Micro Essay: The Woman in the Mirror

One day you stop critiquing the reflection and start recognizing her.

The woman staring back at you isn’t flawless —
she’s fascinating.
She’s lived.
She’s carried loss in her lungs and still breathes beauty.

You see the places love once bruised you,
the scars where loyalty went to die,
the fire you grew in the dark.

You trace your jaw and remember the nights you held yourself together.
You touch your lips and remember the promises you swallowed.
You look into your own eyes and see the truth:

You were never hard to love.
You were just too powerful for anyone afraid of your depth.

The mirror was never your enemy.
It was waiting for you to finally see the woman you became while you weren’t looking.