Mirror Mirror

A small double sided magnifying one from the pound shop to apply my make-up. The one in the bathroom, positioned for some reason next to the sink, not above, to see if I washed off all the make-up. The ones downstairs, to check my full outfit. Sometimes, the reverse camera on my phone, to see if I’ve got something in my teeth. And my webcam… yes, that too, I often stare into, checking for imperfections before logging into skype with friends and family.

I look at my reflection, scrutinising every line, every colour, every shape, and I move the angle, move my hair, move my seat.

Looking at my reflection, looking for perfection, but never finding it.

The mirror reflects back a harsh reality, although I am told at times that what I perceive does not reflect what others see.

Perhaps… perhaps it’s not the mirror that’s unkind. Perhaps it’s all in my mind. Perhaps all it takes is someone to say, you are beautiful, and mean it. And I begin to see the shine in my eyes. I notice my hair has all these shades. My smile can be pretty, just not too much teeth.

It’s hard to un-see decades of scrutiny. But when he looked at me, I saw a version of me in his eyes that I would truly like to be. Perhaps all I have to do is let him do all the seeing.


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