I remember looking into the mirror

I remember looking into the mirror

I remember looking into a mirror when I was a girl. There were two brown moles the size of diamonds on the right side of my face. The same birthmarks as my grandmother, Laura. I called hers ” beautymarks.”

I remember looking into the mirror to curl my eyelashes with a metal instrument of torture. Diane said” Put the eyelashes in the blades and squeeze here.” I wanted to look and be just like Diane.

I remember looking into the mirror to examine the cut above my right eyebrow. Except it wasn’t a cut anymore. It was a scar. I don’t know how it got there but it still hurts.

I remember looking into the mirror and touching the deep fissure between my eyebrows that ran from my nose to my forehead. They say it happens to people who think and feel too much.

I remember looking into the mirror and seeing the broken tooth where Galen slapped me in the face.

I remember his Dad handing me the tooth in a Kleenex and saying, ” I found your tooth!” He was happy and thought I should be as well.

I remember looking into the mirror at my black and blue eyes. A family event that I was the pig.

I remember plucking my wooly eyebrows and thinking my mother needs to do this to hers.

I remember smearing lipstick on my parched lips hoping I would be desirable.

I remember looking in the mirror and watching the reflection of me age to my grandmother’s face.

Now when I look in the mirror I’m glad I’m still in there.

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