When you look in the mirror what do you see?
I see a girl 5 foot 3,
Little in size,
Having her heart slowly die,
Wondering when it’ll be her time to be free…
It’s the night before I leave for college and I am once again standing in front of my familiar full-length mirror. Being my enemy for three years now, it comes as no surprise that the girl trapped behind the glass welcomes me once more with her cold, unforgiving glare. Oh, how the two of us have grown to hate each other! For three years I have regularly met with her to spend countless, exhausting minutes looking into her eyes and analyzing every last inch of her body through a disapproving lens. Instead of once seeing her beauty, my eye has become trained to locate every last flaw and insecurity of her body until I make her so uncomfortable and self-conscious she feels the overwhelming need to shy away from her own reflection in disgust. When she eventually returns to me at the mirror, her eyes are bloodshot red, rimmed with puffiness from her just shed tears. Her once perfectly applied mascara has been washed down by her tears and has run its course down her face like swift black rivers that stain her skin as they flow. Seeing my enemy like this never ceases to bewilder and repulse me, despite having seen her break in front of me numerous times. Her body has visibly grown extremely feeble and defeated as a result of our meetings, but it is her eyes, my once stunning dark brown eyes, that truly haunt me.
There has been no revelation as deteriorating as realizing how deadened my eyes have become. Although harder to remember now, there was a time when these eyes sparkled with excitement and joy. They used to twinkle in the sunlight and reflect a happy soul within. But recently, they have taken on a dark, hollow look that resembles that of an endless black pit. There is no longer life behind them. What exists now are only hardened dark brown eyes that watch and observe the world around them without emotion, without recognition, without feeling. My eyes truly reflect the loss of self-worth and self-identity, agonizingly felt by my aching soul.
Slowly lifting my hand to place it on the mirror to reach out and hold the hand of my enemy trapped behind the glass, I can’t help but wonder how I ended up like this. Why did this have to happen to me? I was never one to stand in front of mirrors and feel too sick to acknowledge that it was my reflection staring back at me. I adored myself and my life! I had been blessed with the ability to be brilliant in both academics and athletics. I always had the sweetest disposition and tried to cheer others up. I had the best family a girl could ask for, and I never went out of my way to be mean to anyone. I was the happiest girl you could have ever met, and yet my world had been fragile enough to have been susceptible to three ruthless girls who worked to tear down and rip apart my world in a violent storm.
Before my life collided with these destructive girls, I had heard stories of bullying but never thought for a second I’d be one to experience it first hand. Sadly, that wasn’t in God’s plan for me. At the start of my sophomore year of high school, I was chosen to be the sole victim of these girls’ attacks until graduation. Although never the victim of physical abuse, I was badly beaten. I was the target of mental warfare. These girls understood that there would be nothing more devastating, more debilitating than that, especially for a high school student who doesn’t know who she is yet. With their method in place, they quickly began the rumors and accusations that would spread like wildfire through the school, leaving me reeling in hurt, disbelief, and anger.
Striking at a time when I was just figuring out who I was, I was swiftly shattered into a million pieces by their words and was left with no glue to put myself back together. My new reality had become walking through the halls of school every day, wondering if the people around me believed the girls' rumors or me. Unfortunately, my voice never mattered in the debate, and I was classified just how the girl’s rumors and accusations suggested. The worst part of the whole thing was that once everyone started to believe them and treat me differently, I started to believe the girls’ accusations were right, and began loathing and questioning everything about myself. This self-loathing and self-doubt was what brought me to my enemy for the first time. It was the day when my self-identity and self-worth became nonexistent.
Looking back, I surmise others--as well as myself--believed the girls’ lies because they targeted aspects of myself that I was already most insecure about. I knew I didn’t fit in or dress the same as everyone else. I knew I was awkward and never knew the right thing to say in a conversation with all girls. And I knew I didn’t have a big friend group. What I didn’t know, however, was that those characteristics about myself were enough ammunition for a person to come in and totally manipulate my identity, character, and reputation. These girls never even stopped to get to know me.
Well, the years passed and it finally came time for graduation. I was headed to college. This was the day I had dreamed of for years-- the chance to begin anew. Having fled the state for college to ensure I would never have to see those vile girls again, I was ready to regain my spirit. It took the whole summer, but eventually I recovered from the lies and accusations, having finally rediscovered my identity and self-worth. I was now able to look forward to meeting new people who would be exactly like me at college. I purposely had chosen a college where people loved academics just as much as me and all had unique little quirks about themselves that people there found beautiful and engaging instead of weird and off-putting, as they did with me back in high school. I was excited to be a part of such a wonderful community but still being slightly at odds with myself and wanting to never experience being bullied again, I promised myself one thing before entering college: I promised myself that I was going to reinvent myself there if it was the last thing I did.
They say hindsight is 20/20, and I absolutely believe that. Despite being so determined to reinvent myself over my college years, I ended up finding myself in the end. As a freshman and sophomore, I tried so hard to fit in and avoid being the odd one out, who I learned, is always vulnerable to being bullied. I forced myself to fit into a mold I was never meant to be in, but had to in order to “survive.” To never be seen as strange or weird, I would do everything that a lacrosse player, roommate, student, or friend was supposed to do so that I would keep the eyes and gossip off me. I worked to discover what the norm was for every group I associated myself with, and like a chameleon tried my best to blend into the colors of their world. I knew some of their colors weren’t for me, but being a part of the painting always seemed better than being the viewer. I continued on like that for two years of college, trying to please everyone and putting my happiness and wishes to the side. At that point in my college career, I could say I simply existed for the betterment of others, not myself. But the truth is, trying to make everyone happy while disregarding your happiness is not the answer. Life is too short to never experience the things you want to because you are too busy trying to ensure someone else does. This was why I grew tired. I grew tired of trying to make sure I didn’t upset anyone with my actions, I grew tired of letting people walk all over me because I hated conflict, I grew tired of saying yes when all I wanted to do was say no, and I grew tired of looking in the mirror and seeing someone else. I was never reinventing myself, I was losing myself.
It took me two years to fully admit to myself who I truly was, but I believe that the first step in finding yourself is realizing you lost yourself. The second step is having the courage to go out and find yourself and your happiness by any means necessary. For me, this meant cutting ties with negative energy that no longer brought me happiness. In one year I totally altered my world and that feeling was liberating. I no longer had my days scheduled and predetermined, I no longer had to spend my time in ways that was expected of me, and I no longer had to answer to anyone but myself. I was my own person! This year I have spent my time saying yes to only things that make me genuinely happy. I have had a blast with my friends who adore me for me and all my awkwardness, dorkiness, and craziness. I have found love with someone who makes me adore everything about myself again and shows me that it's okay to be who I am because that's why he chose me in the first place. I have left myself open to exploring new places and have had the privilege of saying I saw both Ottawa and London right before Christmas. Most importantly, however, I have embraced all my old colors that make me who I am, the ones those heartless girls tried to taint back in high school. I have used those colors, and the many more I have acquired over the years, to paint my own masterpiece, which finally sits pretty on display for the whole world to see. I am finally and unapologetically Blayne Baker. I am a happy girl who loves to make others’ day, a girl who always has a smile on her face, a girl who is dorky, a little weird, and awkward all in one--a girl who loves herself regardless. I am a girl who can’t be broken.
