This whole thing was gorgeous, but in particular I loved "Seeing my reflection as I pass by windows isn’t disorienting anymore. I know who that guy is."
My oldest child recently had top surgery. The difference it’s made to their mental health has been wonderful to see. Gender affirming care really is life saving.
As yoozh, I identify so much with your process, Robin. The further I get into my transition, the easier it is to look in mirrors, window reflections and zoom screens. And yet I still feel the challenge of receiving kindness reflected from places where it was never offered before. May that, too, become easier over time.
Robin, this moved through me like a breath held and finally exhaled. Each “seeing” layered something—courage, recognition, homecoming—and by the end, I felt awe reflected back, too. Your words carry both tenderness and quiet power. “I know who that guy is”—what a beautiful, anchoring truth. Thank you for offering this joy so generously. I’m grateful to share space with you in this unfolding. 💙🪞🧷
I am so glad you like my prompts and participate. Unfortunately does Substack not tell me, when you share my name within an essay, so I missed your writing yesterday. Now I am aware and will check.
Robin, it probably does, yet it's on of Substack flaws, I have heard others complaining about it too. You are noticed when it flares up in Notes, for the essay's I think you get one Email. There are several doing it your way, and that is fine with me. I know it now and look through the my known and shared participants anyway.
Again, I have so little to talk about, and so much time to do just that.
Folks, I am practicing and working on my new side-hustle: comedy and satirical writing. Satirical, is that the word? I will have to navigate to one of those online dictionaries.
Pause.
I smell the aroma of garlic...my neighbour is cooking with garlic. But, it is 11:13 am? Perhaps they are preparing their midday meal. Whoa, are they planning a surprise appearance of Vampires? The garlic spice is strong to some of us polite-button-nose folks. I am experiencing heartburn simply breathing garlic here. They reside two doors down the hall. Phew.
I decided to navigate to this comment space with the plan to create a segue into the subject of mirrors, and I have lost the plot [again].
Ok. Rob, get back on the rails, pronto.
Mirrors: I stand in front of, or pass by, one of those ancient inventions, the mirror, at least once a day.
Most often, when I stand in front of a mirror, I exercise the ritual of combing my "coiffure."
Note: Sometimes, I practice and stretch my vocabulary and determine if spell check is working.
We know, many branches of science study that whole session of gazing into a mirror.
I wonder if I can see a glimpse of the 14-year-old I evolved into on June 7, 1977[?]
Ok, nope, not for a long time.
But, if I could return to the period in one of those Time Machines, and if I could lift my right foot to the level of my 14 year old butt, man would I deliver one of those "wake-up calls."
F.Y.I., the kick a butt ritual - I am a person living with "disability" - mine are Cerebral Palsy, and Chronic Arthritis. CP affects the eye-hand coordination function. Some facts to ponder for educational purposes, not attempting to net empathy or sympathy here.
I was a good teenager most of the time.
Mirrors; a moment to offer ourselves one of those, "...hey? How is it going, anyway?"
When you visit a mirror, remember to offer yourself a kiss. Yep. One of those old sayings, if memory serves, stated, "[sic]...that first kiss in the mirror is free, the rest you will have to work on..."
The above is one more reason to navigate online to one of those dictionaries.
You gotta love language. You guessed correctly: I abuse it regularly.
Mirrors. Most of us are familiar with them. The ritual of engaging with a mirror, to my mind, is like enjoying our vanity project. Nothing wrong with the ritual. We are experiencing much during the moment, which, as we all know, a few branches of the sciences have invested resources studying, analysing, and perpetuating theories.
Thanks again, Robin, and his readership, for reviewing my nonsensical verbiage above.
These "pit stops" on Substack, for me, are chewing-gum-for-my-mind-yakety-yakker breaks for me, while I am sorting, organizing, and working on other projects in my mind.
Thank you, Robin, for the inspiration through your essays.
Sending lots of Love to all the mirror-gazing folks who have navigated to this spot, from London, Ontario, Canada.
Please stay safe, happy, and healthy as much as possible. Sending lots of Love to Robin and Everyone on Substack from London, Ontario, Canada.
This whole thing was gorgeous, but in particular I loved "Seeing my reflection as I pass by windows isn’t disorienting anymore. I know who that guy is."
Thanks, Imogen. It's good to be seen.
My oldest child recently had top surgery. The difference it’s made to their mental health has been wonderful to see. Gender affirming care really is life saving.
Amy, that's fantastic! I'm so happy for them (and for you).
It really is fantastic, thank you Robin!
That is so wonderful to hear, Amy. I wish he'd be able to grow and evolve into a more kind world, as the one we are living in right now.
That is my wish too 🙏
Thank you for sharing this. Your voice continues to be a spark in the darkness. Glad to continue reading your work and point of view on these prompts.
I'm so glad we could connect this way!
As yoozh, I identify so much with your process, Robin. The further I get into my transition, the easier it is to look in mirrors, window reflections and zoom screens. And yet I still feel the challenge of receiving kindness reflected from places where it was never offered before. May that, too, become easier over time.
Robin,
Wonderful to hear that you know that guy. He’s always been there. Waiting for you to let him take center stage.
It’s a pretty incredible feeling, isn’t it?
So happy for you!
Robin, this moved through me like a breath held and finally exhaled. Each “seeing” layered something—courage, recognition, homecoming—and by the end, I felt awe reflected back, too. Your words carry both tenderness and quiet power. “I know who that guy is”—what a beautiful, anchoring truth. Thank you for offering this joy so generously. I’m grateful to share space with you in this unfolding. 💙🪞🧷
Thank you, Jay. Sometimes we just need an open invitation to explore these feelings. Thanks for providing that.
I am so glad you like my prompts and participate. Unfortunately does Substack not tell me, when you share my name within an essay, so I missed your writing yesterday. Now I am aware and will check.
Hmm, I can change how I write each essay up so that it tags you specifically.
Robin, it probably does, yet it's on of Substack flaws, I have heard others complaining about it too. You are noticed when it flares up in Notes, for the essay's I think you get one Email. There are several doing it your way, and that is fine with me. I know it now and look through the my known and shared participants anyway.
Again, I have so little to talk about, and so much time to do just that.
Folks, I am practicing and working on my new side-hustle: comedy and satirical writing. Satirical, is that the word? I will have to navigate to one of those online dictionaries.
Pause.
I smell the aroma of garlic...my neighbour is cooking with garlic. But, it is 11:13 am? Perhaps they are preparing their midday meal. Whoa, are they planning a surprise appearance of Vampires? The garlic spice is strong to some of us polite-button-nose folks. I am experiencing heartburn simply breathing garlic here. They reside two doors down the hall. Phew.
I decided to navigate to this comment space with the plan to create a segue into the subject of mirrors, and I have lost the plot [again].
Ok. Rob, get back on the rails, pronto.
Mirrors: I stand in front of, or pass by, one of those ancient inventions, the mirror, at least once a day.
Most often, when I stand in front of a mirror, I exercise the ritual of combing my "coiffure."
Note: Sometimes, I practice and stretch my vocabulary and determine if spell check is working.
We know, many branches of science study that whole session of gazing into a mirror.
I wonder if I can see a glimpse of the 14-year-old I evolved into on June 7, 1977[?]
Ok, nope, not for a long time.
But, if I could return to the period in one of those Time Machines, and if I could lift my right foot to the level of my 14 year old butt, man would I deliver one of those "wake-up calls."
F.Y.I., the kick a butt ritual - I am a person living with "disability" - mine are Cerebral Palsy, and Chronic Arthritis. CP affects the eye-hand coordination function. Some facts to ponder for educational purposes, not attempting to net empathy or sympathy here.
I was a good teenager most of the time.
Mirrors; a moment to offer ourselves one of those, "...hey? How is it going, anyway?"
When you visit a mirror, remember to offer yourself a kiss. Yep. One of those old sayings, if memory serves, stated, "[sic]...that first kiss in the mirror is free, the rest you will have to work on..."
The above is one more reason to navigate online to one of those dictionaries.
You gotta love language. You guessed correctly: I abuse it regularly.
Mirrors. Most of us are familiar with them. The ritual of engaging with a mirror, to my mind, is like enjoying our vanity project. Nothing wrong with the ritual. We are experiencing much during the moment, which, as we all know, a few branches of the sciences have invested resources studying, analysing, and perpetuating theories.
Thanks again, Robin, and his readership, for reviewing my nonsensical verbiage above.
These "pit stops" on Substack, for me, are chewing-gum-for-my-mind-yakety-yakker breaks for me, while I am sorting, organizing, and working on other projects in my mind.
Thank you, Robin, for the inspiration through your essays.
Sending lots of Love to all the mirror-gazing folks who have navigated to this spot, from London, Ontario, Canada.
Please stay safe, happy, and healthy as much as possible. Sending lots of Love to Robin and Everyone on Substack from London, Ontario, Canada.