I like myself more.
Looking in the mirror, I’m no longer filled with hatred. Self-Contempt. Rejection.
Some days it comes through. Others, more often contentment. I’m content.
I stand here, looking back at myself. I see hazel colored eyes, the freckles that line my cheeks, hair that falls around my face. This time, I don’t hate what I see. Pick apart at what I’d wish to be different. A brief smile shows light as I walk away.
This unveiling of myself, has brought me home again. To me, without the mask. To me, uncovered.
The pieces I wished to cover this up, anything to be different, lay dusty, put away.
Permission to be seen, amongst friends, colleagues, family. Not hiding myself, my age, not even the red spots on my chin.
This is not what I thought would become of quarantine. A guide, test, experience back home to me.
