Have you ever had one of those dreams inside a dream? 

I woke up one morning and realized I was a two-faced friend. It hit me straight in the stomach. 

However, shortly after, I opened my eyes again and realized I was never really a two-faced friend at all. I was merely a mirror of one. 

For as long as I could remember, my typical days and nights were filled with it. The lingering two-faced friend mist that I couldn’t quite see through. 

It wasn’t even a dream. It was an all-around nightmare. 

Making plans that weren’t all-inclusive, secrets (that didn’t make friends), multiple group chats, screenshots, double conversations, triple conversations, predicaments over posting or not posting pictures on social media, simple dinner dates or nights out that somehow turned into, “Where was my invite?” comments, and questions, plus everything in between. 

My texts, Messenger, and Snapchat constantly throwing notifications at me. “Look at this, did you see that, and look at what she’s wearing.” I’d started completely feeding into the two-facedness and nosiness for no reason. 

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Asking, wondering, judging, and assuming things about people’s personal business (that was surely none of mine) instead of simply speaking straight to their faces. 

Just because. 

One day a switch flipped. Maybe it was all the times my husband said, “Hey babe, I’m right here, not in the drama and nonsense on your phone.” 

Or maybe it was all of the times I shared conversations with him and he warned me, “If your friends are talking to you that way about your other mutual friends, imagine what’s really being said behind your back.” 

Maybe it was my kids telling me they “hated” when we were around certain friends because they felt ignored while we were busy gossiping. 

Maybe it was that I simply just grew up.

Who knows. 

What I did know was once I grasped what was happening, I would never go back. 

I thought about the straightforward, transparent person I always used to be, and I suddenly knew I needed to rescue her. 

I shattered that two-faced mirror without a second thought, and I absolutely love my reflection again. 

I wear one face all the time, and I will never put another mask like that back on. 

Not for anyone. 

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Stopping was the easiest thing I’ve ever done because I was never actually that person. I was merely influenced by those who were and had been imitating their actions for such a long time. 

Thanks goodness I saved myself before the transformation point of no return. 

I live such a genuine existence now, surrounded by admiration, positivity, and empowerment. Encircled by companions who are also the same person under their make-up.

I’m so many things . . . 

A loving wife. 

An amazing mommy.

A writer. 

A daughter, granddaughter, and sister.  

A photographer. 

A neighbor. 

An aunt. 

A niece. 

A caregiver. 

A sympathetic shoulder. 

A cheerleader. 

A role model. 

An honest friend.

And many more. 

My list is always growing and changing. 

Except for the constants and one other thing that remains certain . . .

I’ve never really been, nor will I ever be, a two-faced friend.

And if I can help it, my daughter won’t be either.