for the first time—I find my own face interesting. Like I’ve stepped out of the shadows of my own self; like the curtain I used to hide behind has been, finally, pushed back. I’m here. Right here. Look at me, I seem to scream without speaking. Steam fills the room in slow, careful exhalations that cloud my reflection and eventually, I’m forced to look away. But when I do, I’m smiling. Because for the first time in my life, I actually like the way I look.
