I give the impression that I’m a really nice person, and truly I am, or I try to be. But when I look in the mirror I know it’s not enough. If it’s easy, I’m a good person. If it’s convenient, I’m a good person. If I’m being watched, I am a good person. But in my heart of hearts, when it comes to only things I know, I am scared. When I look in the mirror I see fear. There are obvious steps that I need to take to take care of myself and the people I love, but I simply cannot do them. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I can’t face it. Most days I won’t even look in the mirror, for fear of what I’ll see. Today I made the mistake of looking up.

I awoke this morning, per usual with my back aching and stiff. I stumbled out of bed, and washed my face, this is standard, and I normally just stare at the sink as I do. For whatever reason this morning I looked up and stared at my reflection. It always startles me when this happens because it’s rarely, I don’t even realize I’ve been avoiding mirrors until I happen to glimpse my reflection. The way I look in my mind is not the way I look in reality. In my mind I’m still younger, slimmer, my skin is smoother, my eyes brighter, I’m not weighed down by anxiety, I don’t have lines etched across my forhead, or grays coming in at my hair line.

It’s not about aging, that’s a gift, I honestly don’t mind that I look older. I mind what has caused my aging, it’s my own self doubt, self neglect. It’s the way I am completely consumed with everyone around me, and all my feelings are a reflection of their feelings. How every little thing that bothers them drives me insane. How every little thing that I think might bother them, that hasn’t even happened, has me on edge. I’m a ball of nerves and the only time I’m forced to acknowledge it is when I look in the mirror.

Not a single soul knows this about me, if ever anyone found out they’d be shocked. It makes me wonder if I’m really that good at hiding, or if nobody is actually looking. Then it makes me wonder if I feel this way and nobody can tell, then maybe my people feel this way and I start to stress about that.

After a moment that lasts way to long I was able to look away, and go back to my morning routine. I’m a teacher, I have kids waiting for me at work and work is the only place in my life where I feel like I know what I’m doing. Teaching is hard work, but I’ve been doing it for my entire adult life, and it’s the only area where I actually feel confident. I rush to work in the mornings and dread coming home in the evenings. If I don’t have to face the sources of my anxiety I can ignore them better.

On my commute to work I listen to the same songs I’ve been listening to since I was in high school, they’re familiar and I don’t need to worry about how new music might make me feel. When I arrive I parked in the same spot at the back of the lot to allow others to have a closer space. I make coffee in the lounge, although I don’t actually like coffee and never drink a drop. I head to my classroom and find my best friend waiting at my door, with a frown on her face. My stomach drops, but I smile and wish her a good morning. “Is it?” She replies and then launches into a play by play of how her son didn’t want to go to school this morning, how he’s not doing well and she doesn’t know what to do. She’s a teacher herself but teaching your child, especially one who doesn’t want to learn from you is stressful. I become consumed with how I could help, but offer nothing but my sympathy. I know how to help, I’ve been teaching for twice as long as her, but I can’t get the words out. The first bell rings and she rushes out, I immediately take some deep breaths to try to put it out of my mind and go to the door to smile as my kids walk in.

The day goes by in a blur and too soon I’m driving home. New Kids on the Block plays on the radio when my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. It’s my dad, I answer with a cheery “hey pop, how’s it going?” Although I know the answer, lonely. My dad lives alone, since my mom died last year and I don’t spend enough time with him. I love my father so very much, but I put it off because he brings my fears and anxiety to the forefront of my mind whenever I see him. He asks about how I’m feeling, if I’m painting anytjing new (I’m not, I want too but that simple joy is to much to bare and I haven’t touched a canvas in months). He’ll ask about my long time partner Celia, if we ever plan to get married (do we?). We probably would if I’d get up the nerve to ask, but I worry I’m just convenient to her and don’t want to face the rejection. It’s easier just to avoid spending time with my dad, but then I just feel guilty for that too. He tells me about how the neighbor for a new puppy and how cute he is, I should come by and see him, and talks about the puppy I had growing up. I listen and comment occasionally but make no commitments to stop by, and when I pull into the driveway I let him know I have to go.

I make it home before Celia and start dinner, chicken tortellini with garlic bread. It’s comfort food, Celia hasn’t text me much today so I worry she’s had a hard day at work. She’s a nurse, it’s busy and hard work, I’m just plating the food as she walks in and sighs as she puts her bag down by the door. I walk right over to embrace her and ask how her day went. “Rough” she says, they lost 3 patients, she barely got a break, she’s starving. I lose my appetite thinking about how I can erase her bad day, maybe a movie, but maybe she’s to tired and that’ll annoy her. I could give her a massage, but maybe she’ll feel smothered. I end up just listening, and forcing some food down. After dinner she heads to the shower saying she just wants to go to bed. I wait in bed book in hand for her to join me. When she does she falls quickly asleep and I keep reading until my eyes grow heavy. I brush my teeth, focused on my worries when I suddenly glance up and see my reflection in the mirror again. My cheeks are flushed, my face looks haggard, I look away quickly, then force myself to look back. I look exhausted, I’m tired of being exhausted, I practice my smile, the one I give everyone else, but never myself. I smile until it hurts and start to cry. Why did I look in the mirror?

There was a princess named Blair she was the most beatiful around but one day a old lady who was very ugly approached her hello young lady look in this mirror ew why is this ugly old grandma here ugh fine the mirror is bad anyway ew what is in this mirror look into it lady she did and it was a beautiful girl more beautiful than her what how is that possible I’m a ugly girl with warts and big nose and balding with pimples because princess this mirror shows your inside Beauty now you will look like your inner beaty the old lady turned beautiful like her reflection and she turned really ugly ahhh guards take this ugly woman away the guards rushed to find an ugly girl they turned to the now pretty young woman right away princess no guards she’s the ugly one stop I command you but the guards put her in the dungeon where all the other ugly people went and the kind old lady became the queen and married the most handsome prince and became the most liked in the world

I see myself. Worn and torn. Humble and humbled. Rotten and forgotten. Weak and freak. Fickle and sickle. Pained and stained. Hung and sung. Ugly and fugly. Beautiful and truthful. Killed and skilled. Tripped and sipped. Ripped and nipped. Raw and thaw. Best and worst. Lost and found. I see myself as the finder of good and the keeper of bad. I see myself as my own worst enemy and best friend. The mirror tells me more and makes me think more. It doesn't let me look at myself and say whoa I am everything I need to be. It tells me I am everything and yet at the same time nothing. That'll be nothing and nobody. For as look as I look in the mirror, I can hope to find no solace there.

Beauty, they say, is in the eye of the beholder. Mabel often hears the same compliments from everyone around her: how beautiful she is, how her skin glows as radiantly as the morning sun, how her well-defined oval face and lush lips make her a vision to behold. Yet every time she looks in the mirror, she fails to see any of it.

What stares back at her is a girl weighed down by the burdens of the world—a girl whose heart has been shattered beyond repair, left in shambles. Her eyes, once vibrant and filled with light, now appear hollow, lifeless, with little hope or reason to live.

The compliments only deepen her despair, cutting sharper than her reflection ever could. The mirror, after all, does not lie to her the way others do—those who offer sweet words laced with ulterior motives, paying her lip service for what they hope to gain.

But they do not know. They do not know that she would give up everything she has if only she could see and feel what they claim to see in her. If only she could be the girl she once was—the one whose eyes sparkled with joy before death extinguished that light. The day her entire family perished in a plane crash was the day her world turned dark, leaving her alone to navigate a world filled with predators disguised as people.

“Oh, death, where is your sting? When will you finish the work you started with my family? When will your unyielding grip take this worthless life of mine?”

These questions, these thoughts, plagued her mind for years. They consumed her, leaving her feeling worthless and unlovable. She never thought she would escape the shadows of grief, let alone find herself here—fully healed from the emotional trauma that once threatened to drown her.

But life has a way of surprising us. Like a wise man once said, ‘There is still hope for a tree; even if it is cut down and its roots linger in the ground, at the scent of water, it will bud again.’ Mabel became that tree. She blossomed back to life, nourished by the water that came in the form of a true friend—someone who loved her deeply, taught her to love herself, and showed her how to shine her light in a world that had once seemed so dark.

Mabel is no longer the girl weighed down by the mirror’s reflection. She is a survivor, a guide, and a beacon of hope for others navigating the same struggles that nearly consumed her.

Wondering into the forbidden forest is one of my favorite hobbies. You never know what you might wander upon. I never leave as the same person. I went right instead of left today. Following the sounds of the chirping birds and the trickling river. It just entered the season of fall so the bushes were still in transition from green to red. Gradually waiting for their inevitable death and rebirth. As I continued to stroll along the side of water, hearing the cruntch under my feet from the beginning leaves. I swear they stuck to the ground as if they were snow. A few meters down the path I realized I was reaching the delta of the river. A dead end. I was about to turn around when I saw something gold and shiny glisten from the corner of the lake. As I carefully jumped from rock to rock, a gold mirror began emerging from the river. Water began trickling down the sides of it until I reached it. And what I saw baffled me. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was the reflection of a massive beast like creature with horns. “The mirror must be playing games with me..some sort of spell cast upon it” I said quietly to myself. But as I raise my right arm, the creature mirrored my exact move. I switched arms and did the same movement. The creature again mirroring the same. I then paused for a moment and threw both of my arms up and jumped, clicking my heels together. And no surprise the beast followed my exact movements. Even copying my perplexed facial expression. “Is this really me?”…..

As I stand here in the cold, dark, empty room, a small golden antique sits on the wall. The mirror is the only object left in the rotted house.

I walk closer until I'm at eye level with it. Gazing into my own green eyes. The same one my mother carried, and her mother carried as I stare into the endless depth of them, the sins of the generations before haunt me. The twisted lies and frauds. The kind of things no one could ever apologize enough for. I wasn't the one that committed them. Yet, I carry the burden all the same.

The same pretty green eyes that now droop from the pain of the world. The dark eye bags below are a testament to my hardships.

I bring my arm up to my stomach where the small bump is starting to show. My child won't carry the weight of their family name. It ends with me.

I have been so many people according to which ever job I have been tasked with completing. A lawyer, a chef, a dancer, a banker, a waiter, a teacher, and I could even just have been tasked with being a random stranger on the street. My power of shape shifting only helped me in this sort of job. But I've always been tasked with being someone else I am not. When I look in the mirror, I no longer see myself. Instead I see a stranger who doesn't even know who their favorite color is. Someone who has so many personalities she can perfect but has not one for herself. She is no one, she can only be someone else. I don't know what I like or dislike. Only if I'm told to like or not like. I have no opinion on any topic that is my own. I don't believe in any religion. I don't even have my own thoughts. So I have nothing to ground me, nothing to really know that I am my own person. My past doesn't even help. Since I've gone what most people have gone through. This makes me question my existence even. Am I even a real person?

Every morning when I wake up I look in the mirror always imagining my face being melted by candles as demons are holding them. I can even feel the burning sensation pulsing through my skin, I accidentally slip out a tiny squeal. I hop back in bed and curl the pillow in my face so I don’t have to look in the mirror every day. I have this bad disorder where I oulll my hair out due to stress I try to distract myself by listening to my clock ticking but nothing is helping so I just deal with the fact that it’s never going to improve. I fall back asleep always anticipating looking back into the mirror.

When I look in the mirror I see me An average girl With dirty blonde hair Blue eyes And some freckles

Some might say she’s beautiful Some might think otherwise

But inside I’m not that girl That girl who looks calm Quiet And peaceful That’s the outside

On the inside I’m happy I’m excited I’m joyous I’m a ray of sunlight I’m a shining diamond I’m funny I’m nice I’m gorgeous I try to be my best

But sometimes my sun never shines And neither does my diamond And sometimes my niceness goes away The happy feelings fade away Just like my motivation

On the inside I’m a wreck I’m mad I’m sick I’m falling I’m tired I’m sleeping I’m crying I’m crazy I’m insane I’m gone

I’m not perfect I never will be Neither will you But never stop trying ❤️

When I look in the mirror All I see is dark

When I look in the mirror All I see are shadows

When I look in the mirror I never see the real me

When I look in the mirror I see a side different of me

The side of me that no one sees The side of me that no one knows

That side of me is… The rizzy side 😏