*my* mirror reflects what it projects

[adrienmundi]

My sweetie went to a party without me this past weekend (while I was away at an art show and later observing the interchangeability of goths), and because we are still googley about one another, spent some time talking about me to the crowd of new people. One of the first things she told me about it the next day was, "Person x was very envious that I was in a longterm relationship with a girl." This filled me with a sinking feeling of dread, because I'd met person x in passing once some time back. "That's only until she remembers who I am" I said, "Then she'll be all, 'oh, that guy?'"

I am so certain that everyone sees me as a guy, and that once they do, that's all they see, that it colors everything else about me. I'm so certain of this that I can only see in myself what I'm sure others' eyes are seeing, even when they're not present; I have nothing internal with which to resist this.

Comments

[anansi133.livejournal.com]

It's good that you're noticing this. It happens to me, too. (although the fear is about things other than gender)

When I consistently get feedback from people that is the opposite of what I think they're seeing, it wants to teach me to extend the benefit of the doubt.

Sometimes I think that the whole myth of vampires not being seen in mirrors, is really just a metaphor for a lack of self-image. Other people *can* see a vampire's reflection in the mirror, but a vampire has a cognitive blind spot: the face in the mirror that they see reflected, doesn't really remind them of themselves.

When the inner life becomes large enough and invisible enough, it completely overshadows the oter life that's easily seen by others. At this point, you need a whole different scale of survival strategy.

[adrienmundi]

It's something that I've been aware of for a long time, but I think the space between perceptual certainty and factual certainty wasn't as clear. I don't understand, though, how I can have enough of a sense of self to be so sure of what's wrong, and yet not have one clear enough to know what's right. It's maddening.

[anansi133.livejournal.com]

Sometimes I look at animals in "the wild" and I'm impressed by their lack of confusion, their un-selfconsciousness. Sure, they can still starve or be hit by a car, but they're not so distracted by their mental models of these calamities that they always go there.

This suggests something to me: if animals and plants evolved for this place in a natural way, what about humans? Specifically, what about *this* human?

From there, it's almost like a geometric proof. Assume that there is a hypothetical state-space in which I get to simply be, like a lilly in the valley. The difference between that world, and the one I find myself in, is not of my making. But I can give up a lot of guilt and confusion, blame and shame, if I assume the problem has got to have a solution. It may be a theorum that takes longer than my lifetime to spell out, but it *has* to be solvable, otherwise, there was never any point to life in the first place. (That nihlist assumption can't be disproven, but it's not a very interesting one, so assume it's wrong as a first principle.)

Even if I never get to see the final equation, others can still benefit after me, and there's really nothing more important to be doing. This defines the direction of my life, for as long as I can remember.