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A Conversation With the Woman in My Mirror
poem

A Conversation With the Woman in My Mirror

This morning,

I stood in front of the mirror

long enough to notice

how well I have learned to look fine.

There she was—

the girl who says “I’m okay”

with a mouth full of unsaid things.

I wanted to ask her

when she became so good

at carrying storms

without letting anyone hear the thunder.

She didn’t answer.

She only looked at me

with those tired eyes

that have memorized too many goodbyes.

I thought about the things

I never grieved properly—

the friendships that died quietly,

the versions of myself

I left behind in places

I promised I would never return to,

the dreams I folded away

because disappointment

was beginning to feel familiar.

I have spent so much time

trying to be easy to love

that I forgot

love was never supposed

to require me

to disappear.

So I am learning

to take up space again.

To say no

without writing an apology afterward.

To leave doors closed

when everything inside me

knows I have already outgrown the room.

To stop calling my exhaustion

a lack of gratitude.

To stop mistaking survival

for living.

Some days,

I still meet the old version of me

in the mirror.

She is frightened.

She thinks every ending

means she has failed.

I want to hold her hand

and tell her:

No, sweetheart.

Some things ended

because they were never meant

to follow you here.

And here—

this strange, unfinished place

between who I was

and who I am becoming—

is where I am finally learning

not to hate myself

for being a work in progress.

I don’t have a beautiful ending yet.

I have scars.

Questions.

A few dreams

with their edges still intact.

I have mornings

when getting out of bed

feels like an argument

I don’t want to have.

But I also have this:

I keep choosing tomorrow.

Even when yesterday

leaves its fingerprints

all over me.

Maybe that is what courage looks like.

Not becoming fearless.

Just becoming someone

who refuses to abandon herself

when fear arrives.

So tonight,

when I meet the woman

in the mirror again,

I won’t ask her,

“Are you finally enough?”

I’ll ask,

“Are you finally yours?”

And for the first time,

I think she might smile

before answering.


Yes.

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About the author
@amaberries77
AMA way
@amaberries77
Writer and story teller
IMO Nigeria
Welcome to my world of unforgettable stories! 📖❤️ I write emotional stories filled with love, family secrets, betrayal, heartbreak, unexpected twists, and second chances. My characters may break your heart, surprise you, and sometimes make you believe in love again. 🥹❤️ If you love stories that keep you turning the page and asking, “What happens next?” — you’re in the right place. ✨ Follow me and let’s get lost in a story together. 💕

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