Staring into the narrow mirror on top of my desk, I analyze each of my features. First my lips, then my nose, and eyes. How could I possibly look like this? My mirror must be deceiving me. I know I don’t look like this. I didn’t look like this yesterday. My nose bulges out, and my lips shrivel inward. The longer I stare into the mirror, the more each imperfection jumps out. All of the acne scars, blackheads, and pores obscure what’s supposed to be my face. I pick at the unpopped pimples. I just want them to vanish.
Why can’t I have a cute dainty nose or my skin be flawless and airbrushed or like every girl on Instagram or TikTok? Instead, my nose is a mountain and my skin is bumpy. It's not fair, how can people possibly be born like that? I may be bitter but even my best friend doesn't have to deal with this. Why can she never wash her face but have such smooth skin? When I accidentally leave on makeup my skin goes insane and breaks out on every square inch.
Even if my mirror betrays me, I know that the power of makeup will liberate me. I slather my face in foundation and concealer, hiding any imperfections. I caress the apple of my cheeks with blush and dust my eyelids with just enough eyeshadow to make them pop. I know that in this day and age, everyone says that even with flaws you are beautiful. How can they say that when they are so effortlessly beautiful? How can anyone stand to look at me when I can’t even stand myself? But with makeup, I know my true self, not the shapeshifting monster that awaits me in the mirror every morning. With makeup, I am worthy to be seen.