I was speaking with a friend today and he was commenting on how much my oldest son looks like me. It is not the first time I have heard this and I STILL can’t see it. He is 10 now, and I remember when he was just a day old the nurses in the hospital kept talking about how strong the resemblance was.
It got me thinking about why I don’t see the resemblance and then I realized that I don’t see myself how I really am and truly look. I see myself through the eyes of my perspective, my past and my experiences. If I truly look at myself for a long time in the mirror, I don’t recognize that person looking back.
Now, I am an average looking woman in her early 40s. I have some “laugh lines” and way too many grey hairs but overall, I am comfortable with what I look like. But that is not what I see looking back at me. I see the tired mother and the stressed out employee. I see a wife who isn’t always as kind as she could be but one who keeps trying and is grateful that her husband does the same. I see a sister who loves her siblings more than they know. I see a daughter who misses her dad who has passed away and the daughter who tries to make sure her mom is ok. I see the friend who always tries to make sure her friends know how much they mean to her and the friend who misses those that have moved on.
I see the confident woman I can be and the fearful one that I was. I see intelligence and emotion, compassion and drama, and sometimes the child within the woman comes out too. I see struggles and triumphs, pain and pleasure.
I see a mom who love her sons so much that it sometimes hurts and one who grew to love a sport she never thought she would just so she could watch them play it. I see the mom that pushes her kids, sometimes a little too much, so they can succeed in ways she never dreamed of.
I see the many aspects of who I am and who I want to be.
But no, I still don’t see that my son looks just like me.