Reflections That Changed Me

Reflections That Changed Me

I used to think I was just tired.
Tired from work, tired from people, tired from pretending I was okay.

But then one day—mentally, emotionally— I hit a wall. It felt like I was in
a house of mirrors. Yes, in fact it was- the house of mirrors metaphor!

Not the funhouse kind. But, instead-
The horror-show kind.

The kind where every reflection is distorted.
Everything you see is wrong.
Every turn leads you back to yourself… but in a way that makes you want to run.

I imagined myself sitting on the floor in that place—sick to my stomach, completely bewildered.
No doors. No way out.
The carnival sounds had stopped.
No creepy music. No footsteps.
Just silence.

And that silence?
It was deafening.

My crying had no sound.
I just sat there, stunned.
Tears rolled down my face—quiet, soundless grief.
The kind that sneaks up when you finally stop moving.

And then, something strange happened.
Not to the mirrors.
To me.

I rubbed my eyes, and the reflection in front of me… had changed.
It wasn’t terrifying.
It looked soft.
Human.

Then another mirror changed.
And another.

And through that strange, still fog… I heard something.
A voice—not booming or dramatic. Just a knowing.

“You no longer have to settle for the life you’ve stumbled into.”
“You are gloriously free.”

And suddenly, that house of horrors?
It was just… a house of mirrors. Reflections that changed me.

Yes, it had shown me some things.
Yes, I had believed those images for too long.
But now I knew: mirrors only show what they’re given.

And I was ready to give them something new.
Even just a little beauty.
Even just a little peace.

Because maybe… that’s where real freedom begins.

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