Man In The Mirror

by Alexis A. Pamiroyan

When I was a teenager, I looked in the mirror with no sense of direction. I wanted to be somebody? Young minded, I didn’t know who I wanted to be? So, I chose to follow and be like the rest.

No father figure, one potential (father figure) but I didn’t give him a chance. A role model? If you asked me what that was, I’d tell you Robert De Niro in the gangster movie, “Goodfellas.”

  Following others who were misguided, I became one of the homies. This took me down a path of criminality that resulted in gang violence within an unhealthy mind set. This is who I wanted to be! 

Running the streets with my so-called homies, putting in work, I became a man with the respect I earned. At least I thought I did. Coming in or going out I would look in the mirror, lip bloody from a fight, .357 in my hand, I thought I was a man.

I liked what I saw, but deep down I had a gut feeling that gave me uncertainty. A question I tried to suppress, “Is this who I really want to be?” The homies they know and respect me, seventeen years old, I’m a man. At least I thought I was. Looking in the mirror that man I saw spoke, he said:

“This is who you’re supposed to be.”

I reply, “I could do better, I’m smarter than this. All I have to do is ask for help.” 

He said, “If you ask for help, you’ll look weak. Mom has been through a lot. She’s happy and married. Do you really want to make her sad again?”

 I reply: “No.”

He said, “Well, now you get it. This is your life now accept it. The only way to become a man is to get respect! Don’t be weak.”

I chose to listen to this so-called man. This self-demon I created, who fed off my low self- esteem, my wanting to belong, the empty space of no positive role model. In the end, he sent me to prison with a life sentence. Where’s the respect in that?! Laying down in my cell one night, that feeling of uncertainty, the feeling I was so good at putting to the side “compartmentalizing,” now I was constantly questioning my life style of being gang member participating in evil, the respect, and the street cred. I earned it! But what did I do to get that respect? I destroyed one’s family and caused pain to many others. One night washing my face, a glance in the mirror, there he was and he said: 

“Now you’re respected. Everyone knows who you are, there’s no turning back now.”

Without hesitation I yell, “Stop!”

I reply,  “No more! that’s it! I’m tired of lying. I’m tired of hurting people and those I love. This isn’t who I want to be.” 

He said, “It’s too late for that you’re going to prison for life. This is your life.”

I reply, “It’s never too late. My change starts now. Do you know what you are? You’re a scared little boy who’s afraid to get help. He wants attention for all the wrong reasons! This respect… I got it! But it’s from those who don’t care. Once again mom is sad to where even she has guilt for the evil I’ve done. I’m done with you! With the right help I know I’ll get healing.”

I fought many times growing up. I had some wins but, in the end, they were all losses because I was gambling with my life to gang violence. This was all easy, but there’s one fight I won’t ever forget to where I was knocked down physically, emotionally and mentally. This fight was being truthful with myself!

I lied to myself for many years, putting certain emotions and feelings to the side, lying to myself believing I found a way to deal with them.

The only respect I got was not respecting myself thinking I could be someone and that someone I became was a nobody, who couldn’t get his mind right!

 In prison, growing up all over again, I learned what a respected man is. He’s someone who takes care of his family, a good son, a good father and a good brother. He can admit when he’s wrong, and he can help those trudge away the path I once walked.