From Afar, Audrey Rauth (top) Mirrors, Allie Verbeke

Mirrors By Allie Verbeke

The first thing she sees when she gets out of bed: her mirror. This is the mirror she’s spent hours of her life poring over, analyzing every part of her physical appearance, determining if she’s enough.

She pulls up her pajama shirt, checking this morning’s stomach, assessing herself and her self-worth for the day. The mirror stands strong; she does not.

She tries on what feels like dozens of different outfits, constantly finding things she hates about a certain pair of jeans, or that top that is just a little too tight for comfort. She loves her clothes- they are her most valuable items- but she loves them from afar, for her body is not good enough for them on most days. She decides on the same pair of loose jeans and oversized band t-shirt that hide her, make her blend in. Her younger self would be so disappointed; she loved to stand out, wearing bright colors and whatever she wanted. She is no longer her younger, confident self; she has grown up a female in a society meant to tear her down, and it has.

She leaves her room, checking her body one last time before heading out. She walks to class, passing buildings and cars with reflective windows. From the outside, she may appear to be looking inside these windows, or even checking herself out, but this is not the case. The mirrors follow her everywhere. She watches herself walk, wondering how others see her; how others see her ass or her stomach or her thighs that she hates so much. She curses her short legs and poor posture and double chin, wishing she were someone elsesomeone who looks tall and thin and trendy in this outfit.

Her day continues. The mirrors follow her. She opens her computer in class, sees her face in the reflection of the screen: criticizes herself. She sends a Snapchat to her best friends: criticizes herself. She goes to the bathroom, sees her reflection in the mirror: criticizes herself. She catches someone looking at her on the bus and assumes they are judging her: criticizes herself.

By the time she gets home, her eyes are exhausted from looking at herself. Her thoughts, her criticisms, they never rest, never stay silent.

Her body is never hers, not really; it belongs to her negative thoughts; it belongs to the rest of society; it belongs to the mirrors.