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The Picture – Reflections of Ourselves to Ourselves

Audrey-Hepburn-Breakfast-at-Tiffanys
Amy Reeves Robinson

My first apartment was in downtown Denver. It was maybe 600 square feet in a 1920’s building with a shared thermostat and no dishwasher. It did have beautiful wood floors, intricate molding, a fireplace and a claw-foot tub. Just enough to give me all the ambiance I needed to inspire my new life. As a housewarming gift, my dear Auntie and cousin gave me a framed poster of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The iconic image of her standing in the store window, paper coffee cup and pastry in hand, sunglasses, tiara and hair piled high with the reflection of a glittering chandelier in front and New York street-scape behind. They knew me well… I’d immersed myself in the movie hundreds of times and whenever this scene appeared, I was awash with a sense of contemplative peace.  There was something in me at the time that related so wholly to Holly Golightly’s plight of self re-invention. I was in a big city for the first time, I could be anyone I dreamed of being, I was newly on my own with nothing but my grandfather’s table, a bed and the knowledge that only I knew who I used to be. I could be anyone, do anything. The world was mine!

The world, of course, had its own ideas. Things changed, but the picture was always there. I got married, had a baby and moved to Nashville and then San Antonio. I left my husband in San Antonio, along with everything I owned, including the picture. I took my daughter back to Denver, moved in with the same beloved Aunt that had given me the gift, found a job and a car, and life began again. Many of my belongings eventually made it back to me, but not the picture. It showed up again later in the form of a gift from a man I had dated. In an effort to reignite our relationship, he bought and gave me the picture, knowing how sad I was that it had been left behind. I stared at the uncovered corner of the picture, conscious of how much it had cost and that I couldn’t afford it on my own, knowing how much I wanted it back in my life… but not at the price it was being offered. I refused the picture and the man. And life moved on.

I got married again, to a wonderful man deserving of being a father to my daughter. We moved to San Francisco, had another baby and enjoyed the time in life of one new beginning after another. We decided to move to Fayetteville, Arkansas for my husband to attend the MBA program at the University and be closer to his family. During one of my first birthdays celebrated, and in a particular mentally transitional state of “what am I doing here?”, my mother and sister-in-law gave me a gift. Without having ever heard a word of the history or my deeply seeded love for the picture, they’d chosen to give me the poster of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s standing in the store window, paper coffee cup and pastry in hand, sunglasses, tiara and hair piled high with the reflection of a glittering chandelier in front and New York streetscape behind. “How did you know?” I asked. “We just saw it and thought it looked like you.” they said. The significance was not lost on me. My essence captured in the image of a wayward but strong, searching but steadfast woman with her wide-eyed gaze fixed on a place of glittering beauty and serenity while finding her way through the sometimes harsh and confusing chaos that is life. “Isn’t it wonderful? See what I mean, how nothing bad could happen to you in a place like this?”

The poster has since been framed and has been hanging in our dining room for years alongside other black and white photos of family members. It just seemed to fit in. When people see it, they say “That is very ‘you.’” And it has been. Until now. My daughter is turning 15 years old next week. For her birthday, we are redesigning her room. Her first request was a glittering chandelier. From there, she came up with a Hollywood-like color scheme. Hmmm… well, I’d been meaning to redesign the dining room anyway. I stood in front of the picture and looked at Audrey. She looked back at me. It was time. I was not wayward or searching anymore. I’d found my place of beauty and serenity inside of myself and no longer needed to gaze into jewelry store windows. My daughter’s  journey down Moon River, however, has just begun. I can think of nothing better to accompany her on her way than the picture.

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About the author

Amy Reeves Robinson

Amy Reeves Robinson

Amy is the Found & CEO of Tribe of Women. When I'm not busy working to build cultures of women supporting women... Well, that's pretty much all I do! And I'm here for you. Need a Tribe Talk? I'm your gal. Contact me for a keynote, workshop, panel discussion, or group facilitation at amy@tribeofwomen.com. I can't wait to connect and build THE tribe, together.