Cruel Reflections

[Guest Greg_THX1138]

(I do not know if this is not too grim... and it is one of my cheerier ones. A moderator will decide)

Most people don't see,
How many places reflect,
They don't see things like me.

The ugly truth shows,
Every place I turn,
Reflections abound.

In the home and away,
Reflective surfaces show,
A gender just not my own.

Mirrors get covered,
Curtains get drawn,
But still I see.

Inside the home,
Glass and metal both show,
A body that I hate.

So I learn to live,
Life day to day,
Without looking in any of them.

Dressing, showering, combing my hair,
With no mirror is normal to me,
But never fails to surprise others.

Out in the world,
It's even worse,
I don't know where to look.

Cars, windows, and more,
Everywhere I turn,
Makes me wish I was blind.

Part of my life,
Revolves around,
Finding places to look.

Looking down is cruel reality,
Looking out shows more,
Of what people see as truth.

But the worst place I see,
Reflections I hate,
Are in other people's faces.

[Charlize]

Oh Greg while i think it is a great poem i am so sorry you feel that at this point. I know the feeling but for me it has lessened. I actually see the woman i am now in the mirror even though the body isn't perfect. The mirror isn't my friend but doesn't hate me now. Hopefully time will give you that gift. Finding happiness outside of our gender issues can help us to accept the imperfections we will always face. I've learned to enjoy my work, life and relationships but it took time.

Wishing you a poem of acceptance.

Hugs,

Charlie

[Guest Greg_THX1138]

Thank you for your kindness in both this and my other poem. Please see my introductory post ( http://www.lauras-playground.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=58844 ). I can't transition and can't pass.

My writing is my outlet.

I really don't know which of my poetry is acceptable and which is not. While only 1 has absolutely dissallowed material, all of them are grim. Would it be possible to PM them (on their dA pages) to you or another moderator before posting to be sure I am ok with them until I have a better clue?

[Guest DianeATL]

Greg,

I am sorry that you feel this way but you are not alone. I never realized how little time I spent looking in a mirror, I would often leave my home with my hair a mess or shirt buttoned wrong only to catch a reflection in the elevator and try to fix it. I just avoided looking at my face or body and have virtually no pictures of him.

So like you there is a deep dislike or revulsion for the uniform I was issued. I just didn't realize how big it was until I started enjoying the mirror and pictures that reflected the real me.

Please continue to write if it is a good outlet, but be careful because sometimes when we write about such things, we aren't letting them out as much as we are digging ourselves deeper into the hole. So if you find a release and feel better after getting this off of your chest then go for it, even if it is just in a private diary and not posted. But if after writing you feel more depressed, then you probably need to force yourself to write some positive pieces. Think of it as a literary challenge to write about something positive in your life.

Hugs,

Diane

[Guest LilyRose]

Greg,

Writing is my outlet too; it's my absolutely favorite thing to do. I also feel your pain about dealing with reflections. I spent numerous years refusing to look into my mirror because I was horrified with the person I saw. I tried to hide from myself as often as I could. Refusing to shower, changing clothes only when I had to, not brushing my teeth, and much more. Anything I could do to avoid seeing myself in the mirror, I would do. And I spent most of my time in bed when I wasn't out in public. You are NOT alone!

I agree with Diana that writing should become a positive thing also. It's good to be able to release all of your negative energy, but if that's what you are surrounding yourself with, you will only feel more negative. I often write about something that does make me happy when I get done going through something negative. For example, I wrote a poem about bacon strips the other day when I was absolutely furious with something. Not only did I feel better about myself for writing about bacon, it made me hungry too!

Hang in there! *hugs aplenty*
Lily

[Guest miss kindheart]

It is ok to be down at times Greg

it gives meaning to up

Your a very good poet

Many artists best work is done in times of sorrow

Be good

vanna

[Guest Greg_THX1138]

Charlie

Uhm, this website's software and myh computer do not seem to like each other.

I posted a relatively in depth reply to this post at the same time as I posted a reply in my other poem. I also can't access the PMs to ask you about this. There is a database error again.

Sooo... could I ask you to please look for my reply to this (the one that was not posted) and PM me about its fate? I really do not want to spent time on another just to have it go missing again.

[Guest Jennifer T]

Wow Greg. Just wow! That last stanza was like an arrow - totally on the mark.

[Guest Brenda Hailey]

Greg, I suffered from Reflection Syndrome my self for many years, I would go weeks at a time literally without looking at myself in the mirror completely indifferent to who was there because it wasnt me.

The only times I wanted to look in the mirror is when I allowed myself to dress up, it made me feel better but also came with a certain amount of shame afterwards.

The best thing I ever did was look in that mirror one day dressed up how I wanted to be and then ACCEPT myself for being her...sure I still have the body that isnt completly me but taking the step to accept who is really behind the face is all ANY of us can do.

It wasnt easy at first but I dress eveyday now and LOVE to look in the mirror,,,,I actually smile at what I see now. Sure sometimes it scarey and sometimes I doubt,,,I dont have the physical features that would ever allow me to "pass" But smiling at myself often with what I do have is better than self loathing and never even looking.

Brenda Hailey

[Guest]

Well written, Greg.

for sharing.

Huggs,

Joann