This post is a timepiece from the vaults of my hard drive. Minor edits have been made yet the originality is preserved.
I woke up this morning and took a long, hard look in the mirror. To my astonishment, a stranger looked at me from a safe distance.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“You,” was her reply.
I looked again at the face glaring at me with surprise. What happened to my long hair, to the sparkle in my eyes and to that radiant face?
Time was all I could think of on that cold autumn morning, time and its ravages that have eroded certain aspects of myself. No longer was I a carefree university student in my early twenties, full of excitement and ambition for a future that lay dormant for four years.
Twenty-first birthdays had become a faded memory. Late night parties did not terminate before 2 am. University was an exchange of ideas and intellect. Optimism was at its peak. A guarantee of employment at the end was a fait accompli. Economic recession was not on everybody’s lips. Graduation signified more than a piece of paper that adorned a blank wall. It was the symbol of freedom, of an open-door to a fulfilling future.
Today, we live in a recycled age. Fashion and styles mimic those of past decades. Popular music lacks original appeal. Political correctness is mandatory. Our philosophy has to conform with everyone else’s. We struggle to keep our jobs. We are forced into heavy workloads and long hours. Yet we are easily replaceable. We are readily retrenched. Our entire lives could alter at any moment. And we must learn to accept it and move on.
We do not live. We exist.
I look at my pale cheeks and sad expression. My skin is not as taut as before. My figure is not as slender as it has always been. I am fading away.
I get dressed for work. My wardrobe reflects classic styles. I look deflated and demure. I apply make-up in natural colours. I brush my hair. Are these dark circles under my eyes? Did I always resemble my mother?
I stare into the mirror again. I look so bland…
I pick up my recycled birthday card. I place it on the dressing table. I reach for my signature lipstick. I apply it slo-w-ly. I take another look at myself. I smile.
I am a year older today.
May 12th, 2008 at 12:56 am
To offer another perspective: While I do not doubt what you see when you look into the mirror, I am sure there are plenty of people out there (like me) who see someone who is fresh and new - someone who has an ability to show beauty only by writing down words. I refuse to believe that this particular beauty would not be on display if I looked over your shoulder and into the mirror.
May 12th, 2008 at 6:17 am
It sounds like “Happy Birthday” may be an unrealistic wish. Never mind, there are 364 other days to be happy.
May 12th, 2008 at 8:52 am
Hmmmmm… this post seems vaguely familliar. Indeed, none of our skin is a taught as it once was, and no amount of gym and fabulously healthy diets will EVER get our youthful outline back. It does help though, I find, to see how you’re doing against others your age. All those man-boobs and bald patches can really post one’s ego at times!!!
So… the 12th, eh? Date noted for future reference.
Happy birthday to you!
May 12th, 2008 at 9:39 am
Another 365 days around the sun by a little planet that could. Truthfully, there is nothing I can think of that puts into perspective the past that you have lived through and the present that you live in now. Though there is one thing I can say in times like this.
Happy anniversary of your 21st birthday. May you never grow old but always grow up.
That is definitely something to smile about.
May 12th, 2008 at 12:10 pm
Happy Birthday darling … there is NOTHING bland about you!
May 12th, 2008 at 2:47 pm
Dear Older Cléa
I wrote this timepiece on that birthday as a keepsake, just to remind you that no matter how young you are, you’ll have days when you just don’t feel good. Pfft to the comment on pale cheeks, skin, and slender figure! Take a good look in the mirror. Next time you look, remember to smile, or else, poke your tongue out and I’ll come around.
Happy Birthday to you from the Past.
Younger Cléa
PS Keep that lipstick.
May 12th, 2008 at 9:44 pm
Justin: Beauty is such a subjective view, and the perspective you offer, of someone looking over my shoulder into the mirror is one that has a certain appeal, even metaphorically speaking.
Gorilla B: I’d happily take the 364 days but being the greedy person I am, I’d want it all. So the 365th day was surprisingly good, and full ofunexpected surprises.
Gboy: That is precisely the message of the post to me, and why I chose to share it today. We get older, so why worry about the appearance I described back then, which was really only in my mind. This piece makes me laugh at my younger self, yet she had a point to make. And like you, I compare with people my age, and often end up with a smile. No man boobs on me!
Noted, hey? The Cléa files must be getting rather heavy!
Thank you Gboy, the sands of time were etched beautifully.
Edrei: I like that thought! An anniversary of a certain birthday, that is a lovely and lingering sentiment. Thank you Kami :).
And yes, I am smiling :).
My dearest EM: thank you so much for the vote of confidence. Grazie bella! xx
Dear Younger Cléa
So glad you could pop in and remind me that you had bad days too. And how can I forget sticking my tongue out at the mirror? Pfft indeed! What were we thinking?! Let me thank you for writing this piece in the past, just to remind me that mirrors only reflect a state of mind.
Older Cléa
PS You should see the lipstick I use now. Pure velvet!
May 13th, 2008 at 8:25 am
Our current selves have the wisdom and experience that our younger selves lacked. Before, we participated in foolishness because we didn’t know better. Now, and more satisfyingly, we participate in it because we do.
May 13th, 2008 at 3:22 pm
Mahd: So true, and such wise words. It seems to be more fun when we act foolishly right now, knowing exactly what we’re doing.
May 13th, 2008 at 5:45 pm
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