Fractured Reflections
The Face in the Mirror
The mirror showed a reflection that wasn't my own.
Admittedly, I didn’t usually look. A part of being autistic is that I don’t really see eyes. I have to stare deeply & with great intent just to discern their color. To do so isn’t easy & it takes some time, which heightens the risk of me getting caught. That’s frightening, to the point of being almost paralyzing for me. I only rarely look at eyes. Perhaps the bridge of the nose, the space between the eyebrows, the lips or tip of a cheekbone, but almost never the eyes. Not even mine.
As a child, my mother had noticed this aversion & had warned me, “If you don’t look people in the eyes, they’ll think you’re lying.” So, I learned to compensate, to make it appear as though I was looking when I really wasn’t. Believe me, if I actually did look someone in the eye, it was not an act of truth-telling but of defiance. If I got my back up, you might have seen me peering fiercely into yours, but it was with arrows, not hearts, & it meant you didn’t want to cross me because I wasn’t going to back down. I was a beast trapped in a corner of my own making with only one way out—through you—& I was going to claw my way out no matter how right or wrong I was.
It's not a look I wanted staring back at me. I rarely believed I could bear it. When I tried, I found I could stand up to it only briefly. Check the hair, that there was nothing gross hanging around my nostrils, that my face was clean, but don’t even glimpse at the eyes.
So today, when I did, it frightened me. The face staring back couldn’t be mine. It looked normal, perhaps in its own way, even slightly confident & handsome. That face was one to which I could imagine someone might be drawn, like, possibly even love.
That wasn’t me. If that face was mine, I might once again discover I could believe in myself & the possibility of a good tomorrow. But decades worth of hope disappointed had driven that far from me. People were never drawn. And I could never compete for their attention. Conversations were always strained, especially those which were casual. For me, witty repartee was no more than riffing with bad puns while my mind tried to catch up & understand what others were saying. I was awkward, which made them feel awkward, which made the whole thing just awkward.
I learned this early on with my brothers. They moved easily through social circles, weaving in & out of conversations with the grace & majesty of eagles soaring through the sky. I could not climb to their heights, not even when I was just with them. The only attention I could ever remember commanding was from those who were receiving none, for the moment, from my brothers.
And it told me unequivocally, “You’re not worthy.” I might face social situations while maintaining a brave front. I might even survive them. But I did so as counterfeit, made bold only with pretense, as one who didn’t belong. After, & without fail, I beat myself up for how poorly I had performed & how foolish I’d been.
That was what brought me to the bathroom mirror today. Exhausted, ashamed, leaning against the sink, ready to berate myself for the idiot I had been & was & always would be, I looked up.
What I saw in the mirror stopped me. No, that wasn’t me, that was not my reflection. That’s not what others saw when they looked at me. They saw & always will see what I feel inside. They know I’m not good enough, not worth their time or notice. They see me as I see myself, not as that.
I dropped my head, washed my hands, turned & walked out the door.
This is my fractured reflection,
what I feel inside though I know it’s not true,
just as I know that it is.
About the Creator
Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock
Retired Ordained Elder in The United Methodist Church having served for a total of 30 years in Missouri, South Dakota & Kansas.
Born in Watertown, SD on 9/26/1959. Married to Sandra Jellison-Knock on 1/24/1986. One son, Keenan, deceased.
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Comments (16)
I love the approach to this story. The disconnect of how he sees himself vs how others see him is so powerful. Reread this a couple of times. Well done ❤️
That was a REALLY interesting way to approach the problem of the mirror challenge! Very out-of-the-box thinking on your part. It was also a strong showcase on getting inside the nature of a difficult condition to write about. Kudos Randy!
This choked me up with its honesty. I wasn't expecting such a personal, raw, and touching theme to come from this prompt. Beautifully told. Engrossing. Sometimes self vs. self is far more frightening than any outsider or monster. 💜
I felt I was there looking at the mirror. It’s a very relatable story . Well done.
I enjoyed this. I have an autistic son, so I love seeing the representation here. Great work! I hearted and I subscribed to your profile.
keep shining
I was just recently diagnosed with autism and of course since it's a spectrum, not everything is relatable but it somehow is in a small way or another. So I resonated very deeply with your main character. This story was very well done!
Very moving - Anneliese ❤️
I’m not sure how easy access is to the BBC iPlayer outside of the UK but there was a recent documentary called ‘Inside our autistic minds’ that really helped me understand it. Highly recommend it. And we’ll done on an exceptional piece of writing
This is almost heartbreaking. Your main character just could not see himself for the attractive possibly interesting person he could have possibly been - he just did not have that ability. This one really got me thinking. You did a beautiful job writing this. I will read the other one in the next few hours.
Thank you for sharing your poignant piece "Fractured Reflections" with me. Your description of looking into the mirror and seeing a reflection that doesn't feel like your own is very relatable, especially for those who struggle with self-esteem and social interactions. Your vulnerability in sharing your experiences with being autistic and navigating social situations is both powerful and moving. Your words convey a sense of frustration and a longing for acceptance that I believe many readers can identify with. Overall, your writing is well-crafted and engaging, drawing the reader into your world and your perspective. Thank you again for sharing your work with me, and I wish you all the best in your future writing endeavors.
This is very well written and so very true! True in so many ways! It’s so sad when someone does not feel “good enough “ for others! I have learned that I don’t have to be “good enough “ for others, I have to be “good enough “ for me!!
Incredible Storytelling ✨❤️😉💯👍
Our own voices and images of ourselves are harsher than anyone outside our minds. This piece illustrates that perfectly. Well done.
I am so sorry that you feel this way… and I am glad that you wrote this because you are definitely not alone! This was beautifully written and expresses so much and yet probably still so little of what you actually experience. I have studied and watched people enough, and learned over the years how to make the “appropriate” amount of eye contact so now I am quite good at it… but I’m counting seconds all the while until the right amount of eye contact has been achieved, managing conversational turns, making an appropriately reactive thoughtful expression, leaning forward or back, mirroring my conversation partner. Ugh. It should not have to be this difficult! I am fascinated by people who are naturally (or maybe just neurotypically?) able to do these things. It is one reason that I really enjoy interaction through reading and writing though 😊
Those inner voices are so cruel. I hope the protagonist of the story learns to be patient with themselves and love themselves in spite of their difficulties in social situations. <3 This was quite a poignant piece.