I look at the mirror,
And stare at the reflection looking back at me.
Sudden thoughts swarm around me
And I try to avoid worries and uncertainty.
You see, my mind works in a way where
It treats me, my body, and my personality
with such cruelty.
As if it makes every bit of flaw in my body a sin,
Or unacceptable, or will not make me fit in.
It’s as if I am a withered flower
drowning in a sea of beautiful ones.
As if I am a sketch who they tried to erase
But couldn’t get the job done. I
As if I am a puzzle piece
Who just can’t seem to fit in with the others.
Saying things like “I’ll never be special enough”,
Or pretty enough,
Or smart enough,
And never good enough.
But I know I am not the twisted lies my mind keeps telling me.
These non-sensical thoughts, these were formed by the society’s standards of perfection
And everybody’s fear of rejection
But one thing I know to be true is that
I don’t need to look cool,
Or have any clue on what’s new,
Or to change myself to fit in for school,
Because if I do, I’d hope that the approval from everybody else
Will be enough to fill the sudden emptiness, the sudden vacancy my soul will feel.
But it won’t.
So I have to believe that I am not the things my mind has told me.
I am not a withered flower, or an unfinished sketch, or a missing puzzle piece
Instead, I am a purple tulip,
Surrounding a field of sunflowers
I am an artwork, fearfully and wonderfully made,
but admired for its flaws and imperfections.
And I am a puzzle piece
Of my own puzzle
and only myself,
without needing others.
I look back at the mirror
And stare at the reflection looking back at me
And finally, I smile and acknowledge the beauty I have in me.