wronged objects

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Wronged Objects.”

” If your furniture, appliances, and other inanimate objects at home had feelings and emotions, to which item would you owe the biggest apology? “

Dear Mirror,

I stand before you and almost immediately feel hatred and disgust. I would always want to run away from you and never look at you again. You don’t do anything wrong–you are just doing your job: to reflect light into my eyes and send images to my brain. That’s all. But the hate, at times, is unbelievable.

I’m sorry.

I apologize for not really seeing what you show, but instead what I see are years of insecurity and unattainable ideals that this world has handed me since I had the (false?) understanding that I do not look like what is considered “beautiful.” I’m sorry for always distorting the images you reflect back to me into something else less appealing. Or what the world would like for me to think as less appealing, less desirable.

I’m sorry for wanting to walk away from you almost every morning, and for avoiding your gaze every night. You stand there, feeling neglected, always wanting to show the truth and beauty in everyone.

I’m sorry I’m not yet ready to see it. Maybe someday, I will be.




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