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The Mirror

The Mirror

An Chen



The relationship between sisters is never simple.

She remembers the year she came back from studying abroad and saw her sister again for the first time in a long while. The first thing her sister said was: “You should get your eyebrows done. You look awful.” She smiled and replied, “Eyebrows won’t fix this face.”

She had grown used to these kinds of comments.

Her sister had been mocking her looks for as long as she could remember:

“Your mouth twists weirdly when you speak—it’s gross.” “Your chin’s so awkward.”

“Why would you wear that? Your taste is terrible.”

“That makeup makes you look like you’re trying too hard.”

Eight out of ten comments were criticisms—always circling back to appearance, shopping, or other women:

“That girl? Just a pretty face.”

“She got so fat after marriage.”

“That bag’s only 7,000 now—so cheap.”

No one in the family ever asked what she was working on, or whether she was doing okay living abroad.

She was terrified of becoming like her sister. Or her mother. She tried to suppress it—consciously, constantly. But those things, carved so deep into the bone, always found their way out. When her guard was down, she’d still make offhand comments about appearances or money. And then feel a rush of disgust and guilt.

She hated herself for it.

To this day, she still can’t bring herself to like the way she looks. Whether it was the narrow ideals of girlhood she grew up with, the remarks from boys and men along the way, or the voices of past lovers—

They all stuck.

Even now, when her gentle partner looks at her with soft eyes, even when she’s messy and half-asleep, She can’t quite believe it—not even after everything. Not after all the effort, all the strength she’s built. Not when this feeling still lingers.