Broken

About one year ago, I sat at the little, plastic table littered with empty coffee cups and notebooks as I described my idea for an artistic photo shoot to my dear friend and photographer, Marsha Lane Foster.  It was a decidedly cheesy image and, as I’ve come to realize hence, quite cliche’.  I envisioned a large box made of glass with cracks throughout the surfaces.  In my mind, I saw myself inside the box, signifying how the world saw me…flawed and imperfect, needing to be fixed.

That is what I THOUGHT this was all about, but it’s not…not at all.

Last week Marsha and I once again sat down at another table with scattered dirty dishes and notebooks to discuss my idea for this artistic venture.  Earlier, Marsha had challenged me to see the image in my mind.  I had spent some time praying about this, asking God to show me what I needed to see.  Over and over I had glimpses of the same scene, but I wasn’t willing to accept the implications of that image, so I chickened out and asked Marsha, as the artist, to do what she thought was appropriate.

A couple of days later, she posted this request on Facebook:

BrokenMirrorFacebookRequest

Upon reading that request, I immediately felt the burning sensation one only experiences when tears begin to overflow their boundaries.  Somehow, Marsha had read my mind.  The exact image I had been fighting had found its way into her consciousness as well: me, sitting in the fetal position, with my baldness exposed, trying to will myself to gaze at my reflection in a broken mirror.

At the conception of this artistic venture, I’d imagined other’s would view me as flawed.  The truth is, what other’s see is of little consequence.

I see myself as broken.

0 thoughts on “Broken

  • Monica, you got guts, baby! That is one of the MANY things I admire you for. And I am very sure that ANYONE who knows you admires you for MANY things. You have lovely hair…I wish we could all see it more often in its full, unbound effect. And a bald spot, well, it’s just a place in space with a little less hair. It doesn’t make the woman. YOU have made the woman –a truly great one. One who will triumph in changing what that spot represents to. To me, it looks more like a badge of honor to represent the growth you have undertaken in this lifetime. When you came to this world you obviously picked the advanced course! Most people could not have even begun to weather the things you have. Battle scars are never something to be ashamed of, especially when you’ve had to fight for your life. People look to heroes like you to guide them. And exposing this process and taking such brave responsibility is one more way you are doing so. You always set such a good example that if losing their hair would make people as wonderful to be around as you are, I would hold each one of them down and pluck out their hair myself! You go, girl, and never look back! Mostly, I hope that through this process you come to see yourself as we do–a unique, beautiful, strong and VALUABLE woman whom anyone would truly be blessed to have as a part of their life!

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