To My Reflection.

You have been a trigger for both pride and disgust, sometimes unanimously.

I have coated you in thick foundations and colored shadows. I have used scalding heat to straighten what was made to be curly and bottles of chemicals to darken or lighten what was meant to be a sort of medium brown. I have spent large amounts of money on creams and soaps made to make skin seem young forever and without blemish. I use wax to forcefully remove little eyebrow hairs gone astray. I paint your lips in colors brighter and more eye catching than the color of flesh. I puncture you with holes and fill them with silver posted jewelry that makes people ask silly questions like, "Did that hurt?"

I have starved you, stuffed you and purged you. Sometimes all in the same day. I have admired you in fleeting moments and cursed you more times than I can count. I have stood naked in front of mirrors pulling skin one way or another in attempt to smooth out stretch marks and skin that hangs from housing babies. I have lifted my breasts and held them in a position higher than where they hang naturally to create some illusion of what I imagine is "normal" for breasts. I have stared at my thighs and my backside- the bumps and width of both and resigned myself to being forever thick in those areas. I have covered most of what is visible when clothed with bright colors, pictures and words representing times past and present. Some of it I love, some of it I wish I had thought more about before committing. In the worst of times, many moons ago, I have intentionally hurt you. Carved into flesh as some sort of self punishment.

My nails are bitten into the quick. My face is almost always broken out in some sense of the word. I am incapable of accomplishing a weight less than 150lbs. Yet still You say, I am "fearfully and wonderfully made". Slowly...slowly slowly slowly, but surely, I am learning to believe You.