When I look in the mirror I see a pale face with dark circles under her eyes. I see a bald head, too much skin, and traces of peach fuzz hair. I see a woman who doesn’t look like a woman, but doesn’t look like a man either. She looks alien. Alien to me.

One of these days I’ll look in the mirror and see what I picture in my mind: long hair, blushing cheeks, thick brows and lashes, and an expression of contentment, because I’ll have the peace of mind to be easily content. I imagine sweeping the hair out of my eyes, and enjoying the view.

It’s hard to feel pretty sometimes. Not always, though lately. But this will pass, because there have been other times when I’ve felt ugly, and times when I’ve felt beautiful. Besides, when that woman in the mirror smiles – well, there I am. That’s me, no doubt. Thank God for that.

When I smile, I see myself.