I have always preferred the company of the voices in my head, than that of other people. Whether strangers or loved ones, others didn't seem see the world the same way I did. I learned at an early age that my secret reality was best kept just that. A secret. It's not that I feared being labeled "weird" or anything. In fact, anytime my unusual personality was pointed out, I felt a sense of pride. The lack of membership to the club of normal that would have made others feel alienated comforted me somehow, made me feel superior almost. I reveled in it. I had only wished I had a larger more colorful "Freak Flag" to fly so that no one could possibly miss it. Back then, being odd wasn't as celebrated as it is now though.
Being the lone wolf creature I was born to be made for quite a solitary childhood. That, and the fact I lived in the backwoods of southern Mississippi where the population for the entire county barely spilled over eight-thousand. My three bedroom, middle-class, american dream, brick home sat right off of an old highway surrounded on the other three sides by the thick pine tree woods that make up most of the state. Perhaps, if I had lived in the suburbs I would have rode my bike with friends, joined impromptu baseball games on summer evenings and had a different life. Then again, I'd probably still have been weird.
You'd be amazed at how ones imagination will develop out of necessity. We came to rely on it for keeping ourselves busy, out of trouble, or something getting into it. He was my only sibling. Younger by two years, and my total opposite in almost every way, Kevin, was someone whom I'd never have been friends with, had we not been brought forth from the same womb. Being my total opposite though, he was outgoing, charismatic, and never in want of a friend. So even with our close quarters and semi-isolated lives, we spent a lot of time in different worlds.
This brings me to the day I met my "Mirror Friends". Our hallway bathroom was contrasting light blue tile and dark old oak cabinets. All original from when the house was built in the 1950s. Our only addition sometime around the time I was 8, was 12"x12" peachy-pink tinted mirror tiles attached over the old wood paneling all the way to the ceiling starting just above where the powder blue ceramic tile stopped climbing the wall, extending from one corner of the bathroom, wrapping around and continuing onto the adjacent wall behind and beside the toilet. I can't imagine why that color choice but it was the 80s and, well, enough said.
I don't remember the exact moment of our meeting but, at some point, I realized that if I stood in the corner, between the toilet and the wall, where the mirrors met, there were 4 of me. One where I stood, one in the large mirror tile to my left, one in the mirror tile to my right, and one directly in front of me, where two mirror tiles connected. Her face was sometimes out of proportion depending on my proximity to her because of the crack that ran down the center of her face where the two mirror tiles met in the corner, but I only once mentioned it to her and quickly caught on by her reaction that she was self-conscious about it. I wouldn't be the one to give her a complex. I didn't bring it up again. I even tried to keep just the right distance between us so that her proportions were as normal as possible. Just because, I wouldn't say anything, didn't mean the other two wouldn't.
We played almost everyday together. I talked to them about my day, school, friends, boys I thought were cute, girls who teased me, and every other insignificant detail of my life. Together we mastered all of the hand-clapping games kids play, such as "Mary Mack" and "Down Down Baby". Only right mirror tile girl was lacking in rhythm, but one was enough to slow us down. We tried to show patience with her though and didn't tease her too much. Sometimes, we would break off into separate groups though, if one or two of us weren't getting along. When I leaned in to press my cheek against left mirror tile girl and she met my hand with hers to cup our whispers while giving the other two a suspicious glare, they followed suit and did the same. So it would be like that then? Other times, I would take the side of Right Mirror Tile Girl and my previous confidant would, most likely out of social survival instinct, would sense my betrayal and simultaneously find center mirror girl and mimic our secret sharing session. The joke was on them though, as most of the time, Right Mirror Girl and I weren't sharing secrets at all. We would just make whispering sounds. It made us laugh even harder than any silly gossip we could have possibly been concocting about the other two. I believe this brought us closer than left mirror girl and I. She, on the other hand was always quick to whisper slanders about the other two. She'd point out Right Mirror Girls thin, wispy hair, or Center Mirror Girls space between her two front teeth. I had a gnawing suspicion she had plenty of mean things to say about me as well when I wasn't her "secrets partner". I tried not to consider that too long. Thinking people didn't like me always made me uneasy. We never quarreled for long as Center Mirror Girl seemed to be a peace-maker of sorts. Anytime I leaned in to her to share secrets, she quickly threw her arms around the other two to bring them into our huddle. She never let anyone feel left out. I admired that about her and knew I wanted to be like her someday.
These girls taught me some of my most valuable social skills over the years. The qualities in them I admired, I would strive to acheive in myself. The ones I didn't, like Left Mirror Girl's criticizing, gossipy, catty nature, I would steer clear of. Eventually though, As I got to know her truly, beyond the image she put forth, I realized that her snap judgements, her ability to find fault in anyone before seeing their good, and her sometimes hateful nature, were a defense against her own insecurities. As much as I wanted to be her friend, I wasn't brave enough at the time to befriend the bully. I hope wherever she is today, she is happy and loves herself.
