My Mirror
Looking at yourself and seeing yourself can be two very different exercises.
At the start, my mirror showed me hazel
eyes that ought to have been green, and ginger
hair that didn't curl enough. My body
stood too short with too much weight. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Then I fell for someone whose perception
lined up well with mine. He loved me, so he
set to work correcting all my defects.
Every day, he said that I should, should, should.
Years went by. My mirror showed me how I
looked, but I could only see his project.
When I left, it showed me I was nothing.
No reflection. Just a vague blank, blank, blank.
Then, just yesterday, my mirror showed me
a person worthy of compassion: me.
About the Creator
Deanna Cassidy
(she/her) This establishment is open to wanderers, witches, harpies, heroes, merfolk, muses, barbarians, bards, gargoyles, gods, aces, and adventurers. TERFs go home.
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