Mirrors.

“Take a rest.”

“Okay.”

She strode to a chair at the far end of the room and sat down. She looked straight ahead and saw her pudgy reflection staring tauntingly back at her, as if saying look how out of shape you are. She stifled a groan and turned away, looking to her left. There it was, her lumpy side profile, mocking her. Ugh, she thought, looking away yet again, to her right. And of course, it was there, why wouldn’t it be? Her side profile, just as lumpy as when it was seen from her left. She trailed her eyes slowly upwards. Her eyes in the mirror stared back at her, reflecting disgust and hatred. Once again, she tore her eyes from her reflection and looked down at her shoes, just like always, retreating into her safe sanctuary where there was nothing to remind her of the terrible reality that is her body.

She hated herself. She had never been able to bring herself to love her body the way it is. She hated looking at herself in mirrors.

But above all, she hated mirrors.


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