She looks in the mirror for the first time in that day. She has already done lots of things around the house, everyday chores. Her hair is messy in an ugly way. Not magazine way. Her shirt is full of dust that she doesn’t know where it came from. Her acne is showing up again. Her lips are dry. Her eyes are tired. Her eyebags are dark purple. Her self esteem is lower than the day before.
She takes a deep breath and washes her face to take away the remaining sleepiness. After drying it out she takes one more look into her own reflection. She doesn’t like what she sees. She doesn’t really know why she doesn’t like it. Her lips are full, which seems to be what other women want. She blushes naturally, so there is no need to spend money in that particular make up product. Her hair is curly, which also seems to be what other women want nowadays. She has been told that her smile lights up the room, and that her eyes shows all her emotions clearly. But she still doesn’t feel good. Another deep breath. Shoulders get lower, if that is even possible, like a weight too heavy is upon them.
Sometimes she feels like she is acceptable to look at. Sometimes she even thinks her facial expressions make her nice looking. But these moments are just that: moments. Soon enough she is back at her self doubts and lacking of self confidence.
She takes a step back to look better at her body. She wished she hasn’t just done that. Maybe she would feel better in a little while if she had done her scrutiny only at her face. Things just keep adding up on the list: bad posture, fat everywhere, awkward bones…
She closes her eyes so she can’t see herself any longer. She feels tears fighting their way to come down her cheeks and the familiar feeling in her nose when she tries to hold back from crying. If she cries, there will be another month of feeling sorry for herself. She can’t have that right now! Frustration claws under her skin. It is too late. She is already there.
