Greetings, dear curious souls.
As we continue to grow and navigate this wonderful space, I may switch up the schedule from time to time, exploring to find that sweet spot that feels just right for all of us. Fear not—there will always be at least one post a week, and as we grow together, there may even be more.
This week, we’re pivoting back to the Reflections series. I recently had a dream about past life experiences, and it inspired me to explore them further in a short story. So, without further ado, I present to you Reflection Part 3: Rising Above the Past. I hope you enjoy.
Reflections began as a warm-up, a way to stretch my long-unused writing muscles. Over time, it evolved into an anthology of personal struggle, unveiling the inner turmoil of coping with self-doubt, echoes of childhood trauma, and low self-esteem. The protagonist remains unnamed intentionally, as they represent anyone and everyone who has faced similar challenges at some point in their lives. The different parts of Reflections can be read in a running narrative or as separate stories, glimpses into the protagonist’s life.
She had only traveled alone once in her entire life. That was to return home. Home from failing. “No,” she shook the thought away. There was no need to dwell on that now. This trip was different. A plane by herself, hailing a taxi to a Manhattan hotel—it felt surreal. It wasn’t just a vacation; she was traveling for work, for an industry event. Her work had actually paid for her to be here.
As the taxi neared the hotel entrance, the city pulsed around her—street vendors shouting, the distant honk of impatient cabs, tourists and professionals weaving through the chaos. She had packed light, just a carry-on, a decision that reflected her newfound practicality. With a quick glance at the crowded hotel entrance, she instructed the driver to drop her off a little further down. She handed him a few bills, murmuring a quiet thanks, and decided to walk the last block.
For the first time in her life, she walked with real confidence. Each step felt purposeful. Her black heels clicked rhythmically against the pavement as she passed the hotel’s gleaming front windows. Movement in the glass caught her attention, and she glanced sideways, noticing the woman looking back at her. She was in her 40s, curvy, with raven waves tumbling behind her. Her black heels, fitted skirt, blouse, and blazer felt like armor, marking how far she’d come.
Her entire life, her body had been her battlefield. She was always too big, too loud, too much—never one of the slim, polished women who seemed to float through life with ease. But now, no one would guess her past. For the last two years, she had reshaped her life, losing weight, gaining confidence. She wasn’t thin, but she was strong, content in her skin. That inner strength had been hard-won.
The familiar clatter of her suitcase wheels over a crack in the sidewalk jolted her back to the present. She glanced at the line of bellhops expertly wrangling luggage from the steady stream of arriving guests. That’s when she saw him.
He towered over the crowd on the other side of the entrance. Broad-shouldered, larger than life, with the same fiery red beard she once knew so well. It was still neatly sculpted, each line meticulously shaped as if carved with purpose. His hair was cropped short and tidy, and he wore a blue dress shirt that clung just slightly to his chest. Effortlessly, he carried his luggage slung over one shoulder as he navigated the crowd, his eyes scanning the scene.
Her heart dropped into her stomach the moment his gaze landed on her.
Instinctively, she turned away, wishing she could disappear into the busy cityscape. But it was too late. He had seen her. Her confident stride faltered as she felt his presence draw nearer, that familiar sense of dread creeping up her spine. There was no avoiding him now.
She forced herself to look up as he approached, a smirk already curling on his lips. He loomed over her, and all the strength she had fought so hard to build seemed to slip away in his shadow.
His eyes widened briefly as they swept over her, surprise flickering across his face before something darker took hold. “You look… great.” His voice dropped, the words hanging in the air as his gaze trailed down her body, slow and deliberate. “When did that happen? You never mentioned…” His thought seemed to fade, but his eyes said more than words could. They continued their slow appraisal, drifting where they shouldn’t, until a smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
She tried to ignore the way his eyes roamed over her, settling too long in places that made her skin crawl. Instead, she forced herself to meet his gaze, though her confidence wavered. “It’s not a big deal,” she said quietly, her voice barely holding steady. “Just been working on being healthier. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.” The words tasted hollow, all the hard work she had poured into herself shrinking in his presence, as if none of it mattered now.
Desperate to shift the focus, she added quickly, “Are you here for the conference too?”
Just then, another man in front of the hotel’s revolving door called out, “Hey, Grant! You ready to check in?”
Grant glanced over, raising a finger to indicate he needed a moment. He turned back to her, a practiced smile slipping into place. “Yeah, I’m a Director at Danforth and Young now. They sent me and the other Director down for it. Just need to check in.” His eyes roamed over her once more, lingering as if he were memorizing her, before he added, “Let’s meet up again after.” The words hung in the air, his tone suggesting an expectation rather than an invitation. Without waiting for her response, he turned away, striding toward the entrance with an air of confidence that seemed to swallow the space between them.
She took a moment to compose herself before stepping toward the hotel entrance, bracing for the next few days with Grant hovering at the conference. The thought made her stomach churn, a reminder of the past she had fought so hard to leave behind.
As she stood there, a new group of people emerged from a coach bus, their matching white t-shirts catching her eye. Curiosity piqued, she moved closer and recognized the logo emblazoned across their chests—it belonged to the Buddhist organization she had once been an active member of back home. Memories flooded her mind: the Sunday liturgies shared with her best friend, laughter mingling with the soothing chants. But when her friend stopped practicing, life took over, and she drifted away from that world.
She recalled the annual event where everyone would bus in for a communal gathering, and a flicker of hope sparked within her. “Maybe it’s here this year?” The thought lingered, a tempting escape from the discomfort of the upcoming week. “I could just go there instead…”
As she stepped through the rotating doors into the hotel lobby, she weighed the possibility against the reality of her current situation. Each step echoed her internal struggle, pulling her between the past and the present, between comfort and confrontation.
By the time she reached the check-in counter, Grant was nowhere to be found. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she waited her turn. The lobby buzzed with the energy of tourists, business professionals, and hotel staff, each voice melding into a vibrant tapestry of sound. To her left, a beautiful courtyard revealed itself, complete with a serene pond and a gentle stream trickling through—it was a place she promised herself to visit later.
Her gaze shifted to the right, landing on a wall adorned with impeccably clean brass panels that gleamed in the overhead light. In one of the panels, she caught a glimpse of herself standing in line among the crowd. Pulling her shoulders back, she took a deep breath, determined to regain her confidence and stand tall.
As the elderly couple in front of her finished their check-in, she stepped up to the counter. “Welcome to the Belmount! Here to check in?” the receptionist greeted her with a warm smile. She returned the smile, offering her name for the reservation.
As the girl typed away and began gathering a welcome packet, an unsettling feeling washed over her. The hair on the back of her neck prickled as she sensed a looming presence behind her. Suddenly, a hand gripped her upper arm, and a body pressed against her backside, forcing her to lean forward into the front desk for support.
A familiar hot breath whispered into her ear, “Miss me?”
She turned to see Grant’s smug smile, instinctively trying to slip away from his grasp. Just then, the receptionist returned, room key and welcome packet in hand. “Okay, Miss… Oh.” Her voice faltered, surprise flickering across her face at the scene unfolding before her.
Noticing the tension, the front desk girl directed her attention to Grant. “Was there something you needed, sir?”
Throughout the exchange, Grant’s gaze remained fixed on her, lingering for a moment after the receptionist's inquiry. Finally, he turned to the girl, a smirk still playing on his lips. “No, no. Just greeting an… old friend.” His eyes slid back to her, filled with a mix of possessiveness and amusement.
The receptionist, unsure how to navigate the situation and clearly intimidated by his presence, cautiously slipped the room key and folder across the counter toward her. “Well, we’re just wrapping up here.” She hesitated, carefully choosing her words. “Your room number is on the inside of the folder, Miss.”
Smartly avoiding any details that might be shared in front of Grant, she added, “There are multiple elevators and stairs for your use.” She gestured toward their locations, attempting to project assurance. “You can phone us at the front desk anytime for assistance.”
Grant moved his hand as if to take her key and accompany her, but she swiftly snatched it from the counter, turning to walk away without a word. He grabbed her hand, forcing her to pivot back toward him. “What? You don’t want to… catch up?” He emphasized "catch up," making it clear his meaning ran deeper.
Her stomach lurched, but in that moment, a wave of confidence surged within her. She inhaled deeply and yanked her hand from his grasp.
A surprised yet amused expression flitted across his face, but it quickly faded as she began to speak. “No, you know what, Grant? I don’t. I have no desire to catch up with you. In fact, don’t bother reaching out to me anymore.”
Behind her, a crowd of Buddhists chatted animatedly as they passed, making their way to one of the elevators. Before he could respond, she turned away, her hair flicking behind her like a banner of defiance as she joined the throng. Glancing back as she entered the elevator, she saw him still standing there, rooted in place, as the doors slid shut between them.
Read More Reflections..
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As I read I felt my stomach sinking, but by the end I was smiling at the strength shown in the face of trauma and fear. Very well written as always, I've really been enjoying the content you put out and it's inspiring me to be more consistent about my posts! It's not about the amount of readers, it's about letting thoughts and creativity flow from our fingertips and I'd do better to remember that!
Grant was very creepy and gross... 😖
I'm glad that the receptionist was wise enough to pick up on it, and that the protagonist walked away from him!