What was your beginning?
Updated: Sep 10, 2018
I began in my vanity mirror.
It sat on my school desk, surrounded by MAC and Estée Lauder.
I sat in my vanity mirror. It defined me. The mirror fogged as I leaned in to detect every flaw. The fog cleared, and it was still there. Connecting from my gums, to the top of my lip, and finally to the bottom of my nose. The scar. To remind me of the gaping hole from birth. There also, mistakenly placed sat disproportionate nostrils and a crooked nose. I palm my cheeks to turn my head from side to side, I see two different me’s on one face. My eyes are drawn to the best side-the left side. I ignore my right side until my eyes drip with sorrow. “Why can’t I be beautiful?”
I fix my face, and I go.
Again, I sat in my vanity mirror. My surroundings were not a comfort. I will not correct. I stared into the black abyss, searching for every blemish and imperfection. My vanity mirror betrayed me. I pushed it, turning its back to me. I ran.
I sat and examined once more. Sitting and still, my finger as a compass, I engaged. Smooth as a rose petal, long black feathers, honey amber rings. My compass led me to the root of my hate, I stopped.
“This is me!”
The challenge not to pick up a cosmetic grew intense, so I left.
Sitting in my vanity mirror, I began to notice the honey amber rings that surrounded my pupils. They were lovely. “ What else is lovely?” Freckles, strategically placed to compliment the long black feathers that shaded my eyes. “Am I admiring myself?". Leaning back to gain a wider view, I scoped.
“This is me, this is Brittnee.”
Sitting and examining once more, my mouth cracked open. “I will love me, and one day I will have a husband that will also.” I chose to see the beauty of the scar that tormented me. Unashamed and bold in the calm of my room, a declaration was made, “I am beautifully and wonderfully made.”