Hello! Welcome to 7 Cups! I have a background in Philosophy and Sociology. Now, I am taking up my masters in Clinical Psychology. I know that life can be very difficult sometimes so I am here to lend my ears to anyone who wishes to speak to someone and be able to freely express themselves. 
Now, let me share with you a story of my life, through one of my favorite art pieces by Picasso.  



When you look at the mirror, what do you see? How would you describe the person looking back at you?

I first encountered Picasso's "Girl Before a Mirror" when I was taking up a course in Philosophy of Art back in college. The moment I saw it online as I look up for a piece to use for an essay, I am drawn to the girl in the mirror. 

Growing up, I don't like looking at mirrors because they are key reminders of what I lack in life. This may be why I am drawn to this painting ever since I saw it. The more I look at it, the more I study it, the more I remove it from the meaning bestowed by Picasso and I began owning it as a reflection of my dissatisfaction and hatred to myself. Like the girl, I could only cry in the mirror. She was the only one between us who can let the tears flow down her cheeks and let the voiceless scream get out of her head. 
On the other side of the mirror, the dimension is freer, gloomier but freer, and she can be sad, which I didn't have the right to be. For I had a leash on my neck that tightens once I wander farther than I was supposed to run; that would choke me once I start to bark. So, I had to be the perfect little obedient girl whose life was not her own, whose life was carefully broken into pieces for her family, school, church, and society to control. I envied her freedom to feel her emotions. I envied her chance to live her natural colors. 
But who made me the person I am? 

To expose myself, I would have to wipe the colorete on my face and remove the hideously neat dress I have to keep for special occasions. I would have to remove the shoes and shows the blisters I get from walking on eggshells every single day. I would have to show my soul that has grown tired for saying "I am okay." and for giving a smile that never reaches her eyes.

In my mind, I know that I do not own myself. No one listens but everyone has a judgment. No one sees but everyone has plans. Isn't that how life runs its natural course? We are nothing but a pawn for someone else's blueprint. My mom calls me an investment for her retirement plan. My father blames me for being that kid who needed her mom more. My teachers complain about me being not the best. My friends would leave for my mind was always in another place. Everyone has a comparison of me against someone better than I am. I am always not enough. I am always not giving enough. In the end, I am but an abandoned ragged doll trying to take a breath of fresh air where life can only provide nothing but a stinky polluted air. A life where you don't fear rats and cockroaches anymore as you see them as nothing but part of the ecosystem you live. 
And now as I look back in the mirror, trying to see the differences between my past and current self, the colors seem more vibrant and the air is more breathable but, the voices are still there. Now, the voices are headless. The voices would come strong one day and soft on another. I am more confused than in the past. I have survived but am I alive? Now, the voices are not from anybody else but deep inside me. 

I have become my mother, father, brother, relatives, teachers, church, and friends. I have now embodied them and the hands holding the leash are no one else's but mine. I choke myself from wanting to be enough for everyone, even when no one is asking for it anymore. When people are now more accepting and tolerant of my shortcoming and weaknesses.

I want to breathe. I must cut the leash, expose my cuts, and allow the wounds to heal. I want to see someone else in the mirror. I want to see a woman who can smile with pure joy in her heart. I want to see a more vibrant and refreshing garden at her back and I can't do that if I continue beating myself up and not seeing the real person inside me. If I cannot love myself back, how can I accept the love of another person? How can I experience life if I won't free myself from the shackles of the past and from accepting my whole: form, limitations, and potentialities? 

The answer is I can't. I have to listen to my heart. I have to see the person in the mirror. I have to embrace and hug the side of me that I kept in the dark for so long. I have to be kinder and allow myself to stumble, fall, and stand up again. A long process and a tedious one but better than the leash and the fake colorete to mask the pain
So if you are like me, I wish you will learn to look at the mirror too and allow yourself to cry, to smile, to be angry, and to mourn. Don't look at your good qualities but try to see the whole you, how good and bad they may be. And at the end of the day, give yourself a much needed and deserved hug.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4V3Mo61fJM