A room full of windows

It cannot be through my own eyes that my soul is seen for I cannot see it for myself.
My core is a room of windows through which each new pair of eyes sees a different corner.
In one pane is found a woman; emotional, self-conscious, lonely.
Another, a mother; strong, doting, and devoted.
One, a lover.
One, a friend.
One, a lost individual questioning faith, freedom, and fear.
One, regret and sadness.
One, joy and exhileration; a childlike heart.
Shattered or compartmentalized. The portions never whole.
All of me in bits and pieces viewed by the world.