When I first watched _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_, I had a funny thought—why was the Evil Queen so worried about what a stupid mirror thought? Later, as I grew older, it felt as if the Demon from the movie had traveled into my own mirror. Every time I looked at my reflection, it was as if someone was whispering that I had grown horns, that I looked ugly, or that I had turned into some fat, blobbing creature that could not walk on its own. Some days, I couldn’t even look myself in the eye—I was too afraid of the Demon in my mirror.

I became shy and withdrawn, convinced that I could never be as beautiful as other people. I believed I would always lack something. One day, as I was walking home from school, someone passing by gave me a smile and a nod. I was shocked—people noticed me? I thought they must have been laughing at me. Later that day, a woman walking her dog also smiled at me. It took me an entire day to realize they were parents of my schoolmates who had seen me at the debate club.

Curious, I checked my school’s website and found comments about me:

**“Emily was amazing—for someone so young and pretty, she had great confidence in voicing her opinions.”**

Another wrote:

**“Emily is always kind to others. She helped me with my groceries and shared such great ideas—it makes me proud just to know her.”**

I was overwhelmed. Tears filled my eyes as I read so many kind words about me. I had thought I was invisible, but my actions had left an impact on people. I had chosen to be kind because I was lonely, wanting others to feel good—even when I didn’t feel that way myself.

That evening, I stood up, walked to the mirror, and did something I had never done before—I smiled at my reflection.

I no longer needed a mirror to tell me how I looked or what I could do. My actions defined me. I was beautiful, not because of how I looked, but because of the good I chose to do.

Ever since then, when I look in the mirror, all I see is myself.