I Looked in the Mirror and Missed Myself

Dear Delyara, I didn’t look terrible. That’s not the point. I looked familiar and absent at the same time, as if the face had continued showing up for life while some deeper part of me had stepped further back than I realised. I stood there brushing my hair and felt this awful wave of longing for a version of myself I can’t fully name. Not younger. Not prettier. Just more present. I miss the feeling of fully inhabiting my own life. That’s what the mirror told me tonight.