A Look in the Mirror.

Discovering ways to love myself.

Number One: Sometimes I hurt with the loneliness but am no longer willing to be in a relationship just because it's there and distracts me from my problems.

Learning to love what's inside the mess I am now isn't always easy. Some days I feel overcome with ordinariness. I want to be special... like Buffy or a Halliwell or instead of saving the world maybe just having a wonderous gift like being able to sing well enough people want to listen.

I always felt separate from others, on the outside looking in. When I try to socialize I feel like I'm a monstrously disfigured creature oozing a noxious smell.

Growing up I felt diseased and didn't want people to be around me because I was afraid I was a typhoid Mary of sorts. I worried the darkness inside might in some way infect and mar the incredible beauty of others.

My first time in therapy I worked hard to overcome those beliefs.

Now I don't slit my wrists to feel real or try to cut out whatever it is that's wrong with me. I've made progress.

When I look in the mirror I see average height, average hair color, average eyes. Just a disguise? Or is that me?

The mirror doesn't reflect the emotional scars of the battles I fought to get here. It doesn't show the burns from walking through fire. Everyone has pain and scars hiding. It doesn't make me special.

But there must be something beautiful hiding inside I have yet to discover. So I'm working on that. I'm working on finding the beauty of my soul.

I once thought freckles and ordinary was disgusting to look at, but I've learned to feel a little pretty when I look in the mirror. Because of therapy, I spent time appreciating my body, looking for what I liked instead of what I didn't. I made friends with the mirror.

Loneliness is the mirror for my soul. In my twenties, I finally stopped feeling like something the CDC needed to burn and began to feel ordinary.

Today I struggle to find a tiny bit of something extraordinary inside. It's a journey, of voice lessons, random jobs, and self-examination.

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A Parent's Nightmare

It was supposed to be an ordinary day, but a feeling something was going to go horribly wrong kept me awake the night before. I waited six months, because the first time they mentioned the routine procedure and the risks I knew my daughter was going to end up dead, or brain damaged. I thought I'd waited long enough. After six months I believed things would be ok. I told myself to relax and stop being paranoid. I shouldn't have. The anesthesiologist with tears in his eyes told me, "I'm not going to lie, she's not doing good. This is the worst day of my career." He was thinking of his career while my little girl was fighting for her life!? He felt bad so I said simply, "I know you tried your best," wondering if my happy sweet little girl would ever smile at me again. There was no point in making a scene. It wouldn't save her. It might kill her. I had to step back and breathe. I needed to focus on giving her all the love a

A Girl Can Dream, Right?

Preparing for the cruise, a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation courses through my veins. Amidst sapphire waves and ocean skies, I'm eager to meet with my teammates, especially one sexy beast I've been mentoring late at night, a little too often. A single man secure enough in his masculinity to be sponsored by a woman he'd never met, it was more likely I'd win the lottery but it happened! Men that secure, are as rare as a million dollars popping out of thin air! Finding one man who would just listen to my dream let alone believe in it and share it, up until him has been impossible... yeah I'm ready to go past first base and then some! As I finish packing, I can't help but indulge in a few tantalizing semi erotic fantasies. From our first conversation, strategizing his path to success, I was completely intoxicated by him. After months of working together, I'm still feeling an undeniable connection that has nothing to do with business. His confidence

Dreaming of Death

I dreamed I died, my usable organs were donated, and the rest of me was fed to the birds. I requested before I died, those who received my organs would gather once a year to celebrate my daughter's birthday. I dreamed pieces of my flesh were sent out to wildlife sanctuaries around the world. I dreamed each year, I could see my daughter with my eyes and she could feel my love surrounding her. I dreamed I soared with eagles, dove into the sea with the ospreys, and traveled the world in ecstasy. Gradually, I felt myself fading away into the darkness. My daughter's birthday came again. I lived in her smile and warmth. Like a brilliant sun, she brought life back to the surface. My essence swirled around her, through her. She became my home. I lived in her joy, in her peace I rested. Trees grew from the soil marked with remnants of my flesh, I felt the sun on their leaves, and I felt the cool rich soil bathing their roots. I felt myself in rivers flowing free and wild, splashing

Ashley Needles

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