The early morning sun causes the droplets to glisten against the porcelain sink.
My hair hisses as I tie it up, the curled tendrils delicately brushing against my neck.
It cracks as I tighten it. A slight bump forms in the front, giving me a youthful look.
My eyes gaze at the reflection, analyzing every flaw.
Splotchy skin. Faded blotches of freckles. Half-assed eyebrows. Narrow lips. A stubborn chin pimple.
But then I stop.
But then I stop. Take a breath.
But then I stop. Take a breath. Lean forward, hands clenching the counter top.
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes as I watch myself.
The blue in my eye sparkles. My lashes flutter in tune with my heart. My upturned nose scrunches at my staring. The freckles scattered about my thin lips pop with melanin.
I smile, finding something there. An acceptance. A love.
I may not have the conventional beauty,
But what I do have is so much more special.
I release my grip, softly touching the ponytail of red curls.
I have me.