‘”What is a curse?”
Say I were to ask a child this simple question, my instincts predict that they would describe a curse as some sort of a wicked spell cast out by a witch and put upon a human or fuzzy caterpillar that wouldn’t give the secret key to the Ways of the World.
On any given day, I’d honestly say something similar if I was asked the same question. Today was different, though. I’m nearly two weeks into my 17th year of life, and every single day I still reminisce the very dark days of my past despite the fact that I have felt great for a while now, aside from the almost-daily panic attacks. Within the last year I have taught myself to see the beauty in the little things; what colors compliment my own eyes, learning how to let someone in when I need help, seeing the way sunshine really does make days a little bit better.
Today I was overcome by something…repulsive. I’ve struggled with self-image/self-love issues for several years now. My journey of self-love is very much “3 steps forward and 1 back”. And today, a mild, undisturbed, summer day, I stumbled back. The feet that silently pace the vast floor in my mind with grace where brought to a hault; and something in my heart was uprooted and resurfaced. I suddenly could taste it, see it in my mind’s eye.
I’m young, I’m moderately feminine, and I look at myself too many times to count each day. I gazed into a hand-held mirror today. And…I don’t even remember why I did, I don’t remember what I was even checking for. But I didn’t hesitate to direct my eyes and my attention to that cold, dangerous, little circle and gaze into what I’d like to call, Myself. Upon looking in the mirror, I captured that mental image of my face, and it burned itself in my mind, and I thought about what I saw for a while. As much as I would enjoy saying something uplifting like, maybe I admired what I saw and I’m proud of what I become, unfortunately I cannot. At this point in my life, I saw…I saw the representation of my own curse. That’s why I mentioned earlier what we presume curses to be. Curses can be pretty, and they can be coped with, and they can be blessings. But they are also just as capable to be burdens, and killers, and igniters. And fed flames don’t build, they destroy. I see curses as natural. And in some ways, we as human bestow them upon ourselves based on the choices we make in life, or the paths we trip into and are forced to trek down.
Back to the mirror and what I felt. My Curse, one of many, wiggled, and flared, and escaped from it’s jar that has been buried and forgetfully nurtured within my heart. As I sat pondering that mental image of Myself today, I didn’t see me. I saw the Curse. All I could see was how full my face is. I began having flashbacks to weeks ago, months ago, and my face was thinner then; I know it was. I can feel it. I know that feeling this way is wrong and I know it is not safe. And today a war started; a war between Right and Wrong, Her and I. Who’ll win, I’ll have to find out for Myself.
‘”What is a curse?”