I'll be your mirror

I’ll be your mirror
Reflect what you are, in case you don’t know
I’ll be the wind, the rain and the sunset
The light on your door to show that you’re home. 

There’s so much wisdom in this Velvet Underground song from 1967. When lead singer Lou Reed wrote the lyrics, I was in elementary school. The first girl in my class to need glasses. The conflicted smart girl tomboy wannabe who cried when she got any answer wrong or finished last in a race. My house was too small for sleepovers. I was allowed only one birthday party—for my Sweet 16. My mother sent the boys home for cursing.

A decade later, I moved to New York to toughen up. Many decades later, I’ve mostly overcome hypersensitivity and the fear of being alone. Of course I still struggle. And I admit that freely, in my blog and in relationship. I’ve never really walked on the wild side—du du du, du du du du du—but other people see in me a girl who is brave and free. 

It’s mighty powerful when people around us take the time to reflect the good qualities they see in us.

After nearly six weeks on the road, I’ll be heading home soon from Southern California. Even here—where the streets and parking lots are crawling with tricked-out vehicles—all I have to do is open the doors to my van and turn on the twinkle lights. The girls come running. They ask to see inside. 

Sure my get up is cute. But that’s not what resonates. My rig screams of self sufficiency. And that’s what lights women up. They see their current or future selves. An open road. A sky of blue.

I tell them, You can do it. Because if I can, so can you.

None of us wants to be afraid. We need others to help us remember.

I find it hard to believe you don’t know
The beauty you are
But if you don’t let me be your eyes
A hand in your darkness, so you won’t be afraid.

Lou Reed was a hot mess. But we didn’t care. We saw his talent. We still play his songs. So here’s the lesson for today.

We all can be mirrors. 

We all can help other people see the good inside them. 

And with enough practice—with enough genuine reinforcement from friends and lovers and even strangers—we will clearly see ourselves.