Who is the Person in the Mirror? - Part of Picking Up the Pieces Mondays

While in the hospital I had caught small glimpses of my reflection on glass windows; but had not registered the toll the injuries had taken on my body, once home access to full length mirrors began to show the reality. A once toned, fit, healthy body had been replaced by one with multiple limitations, a frail frame, T shaped train tracks to nowhere – now decorate my abdomen, while a single track ran down the inside my right arm. My long lush hair ,was now thin short straw like and much had fallen out on the back of my head partially by the time spent in the hospital laying on my back and from the trauma I had sustained to the back of my head. I would later discover that about a thumb length and two thumb widths area would never grow hair again, due to the soft tissue damage in that area.

Aside from the physical changes, the reflection that once showed a healthy glow, full of life person, with dimples that became prominent with every smile or smirk, even teeth, hazel eyes that sparkled and took on a green tone at excitement and extreme happiness was no longer present. In the place of the once ever present reflection was a reflection of sunken cheeks, sallow grayish skin tone, chipped teeth , and expressionless, hunched lifeless image. The tone in my speech had also been affected by the trac– the voice that was once so familiar was also now that of a stranger.

Having been a corporate career driven person, whose appearance had been as important as my abilities to conduct business. Now not only was my ability to process information, speak in a professional manner, tainted – I no longer recognized the reflection in the mirror staring back at me. The realization of the extreme changes in my appearance and ability to express myself sent me crying myself to sleep many nights thereafter.

What I want to share with others;

For those facing a change in their appearance regardless of the cause or degree of change, it can be extremely difficult and self destructing. Especially when their image is/has been so much a part of whom they were/are and how they are received and or viewed by others. Mentally and emotionally it can be as painful and debilitating as physical pain.

Telling someone “You are lucky to be alive, it doesn’t matter what you look like- your looks are only super-facial” or “Now you know how it feels to be out of shape like me” or “If I had the body you had before the accident I would be so happy and try to go out with that guy”– does not help. Trust, me the person knows and is grateful to be alive ~ though well meaning, these statements only reinforce that they are no longer whole. Yes, these were real statements said to me at various times, by different people.

For anyone reading this that is going through a self-image crisis regardless of the reason, if how you present yourself to the world is/has been part of who you were/are, KNOW that you are not being super-facial. The resolution is speaking to a professional(s) and or people who can help you adjust to who you are at the moment and help you build a plan to re-build your self-image – mentally, emotionally and physically.

Traveling – Paris Therapy

When I first started feeling the urgency to visit Paris, I attributed it to my desperate need to connect with the fashion focused and pastry loving person I was pre-falling off my high heeled life. Then Mr. G surprised me with the trip, my first reaction was the term “be careful what you wish for, you might just get it”, now that the trip to Paris was no longer a wish, but a reality – panic started to set in. How was I going to make it through the flight (the flight to Dominican had only been a couple hours and I barely made it)? What if I was seated near loud people, who never stopped talking? Paris, all that walking – what was I thinking?

My dear friend from New York [NYF] (who is originally from Paris), presented me with an amazing day by day plan while in Paris. I know that she is extremely busy; still she made time and effort to help simplify things for me. Even though I was so grateful and appreciative of her kindness, I still considered backing out, at one point. Then the whole volcanic ash thing happened – and I thought for sure this was a sign – that I would be spared having to back out- Mother Nature, would be my ally.

The Universe of course had other plans. Our flight would be the second of two flights AC would be making to Paris and one of two to Europe on our departure date (the other was to Rome). So, with all my little fears packed silently, I put on my happy face and excited self (I really was looking forward to the trip, excited actually – it was when my little fears surfaced that they over took my excitement). Armed with maps and plans, courtesy of my NYF – did I mention that she hand delivered these to me, at my home. I am truly blessed to have helpful, loving, supportive people in my life. Especially during these past 3 ½ years, there are many days that without them, I am sure I would not have survived.

Paris was everything I imagined and so much more! My worries about all the walking were quickly put to rest – as NYF had indicated there are so many cafés, that whenever I started to feel tired, we would stop and enjoy a pastry or beverage, while getting me off my feet. Even at the Louvre and Eiffel tower there were benches and areas for taking a break off ones feet and also the back.

The wonderful thing about traveling is that you do not have to depend on anyone (other than the hotel staff – and they are there to make sure you want for nothing and if you do, it’s available when you want/need it) be it a meal, laundry (towels, sheets – and the sheets are pressed,) or making up the room. You get to experience a bit of independence, no matter how insignificant it may seem to others.

Also, no one knows you – and unless you feel comfortable letting them in on your “detour in life” – they take you as you are. No comparing to your pre-accident self, no telling you to take it easy, no analyzing your every word or move – it’s like the magnifying glass has been lifted – even if for only a moment.

Along with all the history and culture Paris truly is a city of light and inspiration. I’m not quite sure when it hit me or how - Perhaps, it was at the peace I felt in Notre Dame Cathedral or Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, maybe it was even in Mona Lisa’s smile – but something shifted within me. For the first time since falling off my high heeled life – I felt that life truly is a gift (I have said before “life is a gift” and I truly believe it – but I have never really felt it - as in like a touch).

Over the next week my postings will be about my Paris adventure. I will be sharing stories, finds, pictures, and hopefully something will encourage you to get out on your own adventure, and start to discover the gift of life again.

images: Falling off a High Heeled Life