I Cleaned the Mirror and Didn’t Want to Look in It

Dear Delyara, The glass needed wiping. My face did not need interpreting. Still, the second it was clean, there I was — clearer than before, more visible than I wanted to be in that moment. Tired around the eyes. Mouth flatter than I would choose. The look of someone who has been holding a lot together with ordinary competence for too long. I think mirrors are hardest on days when your inner life already feels unkind. They don’t just reflect the face. They catch the load. I finished cleaning it and walked away quickly. Not because I looked terrible. Because I felt too exposed by my own reflection.