The Day I Realised I Wasn’t Alone in the Mirror

Many moons ago, when I was still a young little girl with a head full of hopes and dreams, conversations with the mirror used to be a daily ritual.

Seated before my dressing table, words would flow effortlessly as though I’m engaging in a serious debate with someone unseen; often a family member or a friend conjured by the mind.

Strangely enough, these exchanges always escalated into impassioned disputes, leaving an odd sense of confidence in their wake. Expressions would be studied with the precision of an actress rehearsing for her unseen audience while every word was met with a carefully measured response. An internal script playing out flawlessly before its turn to be spoken aloud.

The dialogue would exist in two realms. One within my mind and the other beyond the lips, each reinforcing the other in perfect synchronicity.

It was one of my favourite things to do. Just me, unfiltered, and expressing myself in my own unique way and without the noise of the external world.