WHEN IMAGE BECOMES EVERYTHING

 

This morning started with something simple: a visit to the health center. I had to get one of my teeth filled. It wasn’t my first time, but somehow, every visit still makes me a little nervous. Sitting in the waiting room, smelling the sharp scent of medicine in the air, I kept shifting in my seat, hoping my name would be called soon. When the dentist finally asked me to sit in the chair, I closed my eyes for a second, breathing slowly. The sound of the tools was sharp, but the process itself went smoothly. In a short time, it was done. The tooth was filled, and I walked out with a sense of relief — lighter than before, even though my mouth still felt a little numb.

After that, I headed to Taman Ismail Marzuki. Moving from the health center to this place felt like stepping into a different world. The heavy, clinical feeling was replaced with something softer and warmer. TIM has always been known as a space for art and thought, a place where creativity feels alive. As I walked, I noticed the air itself felt different — lighter, almost like it carried ideas with it. I slowed my steps, wanting to take in every corner, every sound, as if the place itself was inviting me to breathe a little easier.

There, I found a book of poetry. I opened it without much expectation, just letting the words find me. One poem stood out and caught my attention:

Some people are so afraid
 to look in the mirror
 that they fool themselves
 by fooling others
 about who they are.

I read those lines again and again. Each time, they felt deeper. The poem was short, but it spoke volumes. It was about fear — fear of facing ourselves honestly. Many people hide behind images, showing the world something that isn’t really true, just so they don’t have to deal with what they see in the mirror. And in the process, they end up fooling not only others, but themselves too.

To me, that’s the beauty of facing yourself honestly. When you dare to look into the mirror, you don’t have to pretend anymore. You don’t have to hide behind masks. You can admit your flaws and still work on becoming better. 

I sat with those thoughts for a while, letting them sink in. The world outside faded, and for that moment, it was just me, the book, and the quiet hum of the arts center around me. 

Eventually, I had to close the book and leave. The day still had more to bring. My next stop was the airport, where I was going to meet someone. The energy there was completely different — no longer calm and thoughtful, but busy and full of movement. Airports always fascinate me because they are places of in-between. People are always arriving or leaving, saying hello or goodbye. Everyone carries their own story, their own reason for being there.

As I stood waiting, I thought again about the poem. How many people here are wearing an image for the world to see? How many are afraid of the mirror, afraid of showing who they really are? And at the same time, how many are quietly working on themselves, trying to turn pain into growth, trying to become stronger in silence?

That is what the mirror is asking of us. To stop hiding, to look clearly, and to face ourselves. Not to create an image for the world, not to run from the truth, but to stand there and decide to grow. Because in the end, the sweetest kind of revenge is not anger, but transformation. It’s proving, most of all to ourselves, that we are capable of becoming something greater and…

see you here for a minute every day!