Through the Cracks of the Mirror

The Mirror Monster

Theme: Self-esteem & Body Image

Hey there, twisted souls—Pavithra here, back again with another chapter from MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL, the space where raw stories meet real emotions.
Today, I want to talk about a monster. Not the one under your bed, or hiding behind the curtains, but the one that stares right at you every single day… from the mirror.

There was a time when all it took was one pimple to shatter my self-worth. One glance at my reflection and I’d spiral into an ocean of insecurities. My brain would pick apart every inch of me—my skin, my weight, my smile that wasn’t “perfect” enough.
It wasn’t just about how I looked. It was about what I thought I should look like.
I’d compare myself endlessly—to girls on Instagram with sculpted bodies and airbrushed skin, to people who seemed effortlessly beautiful while I stood in front of the mirror wishing to be anyone but myself.
One comment like, “You’ve put on weight,” or “Why don’t you try something different with your face?” could send me down a rabbit hole of self-doubt. And let me tell you—anxiety loves rabbit holes.

Over time, the mirror became less of a tool and more of a trigger. I'd avoid it some days. Other days, I’d stand in front of it too long, obsessed with fixing myself until I didn’t recognize the girl staring back.
It wasn’t vanity—it was a desperate need to be “enough.”
When you start tying your value to the way you look, anxiety becomes a constant whisper in your head, convincing you that you’re too much or not enough—all at once.

But here’s what I learned, slowly and painfully: your body is not the enemy.
It carries you, protects you, and holds your story—even the twisted ones.
Beauty isn’t found in flawlessness; it’s found in the way you hold yourself through the mess.
And peace? Peace is the best kind of pretty.

It took me years to understand that the mirror reflects only what’s on the outside. It doesn’t capture the strength it took to survive, or the courage to grow, or the kindness you give to others.
The mirror monster still creeps up on me sometimes—but now, I meet her with compassion instead of criticism.
Because this face, this body, this imperfect self… she’s been through hell and still shows up.

Have you ever faced your own mirror monster? Tell me about it—drop your thoughts in the comments, share your journey, and subscribe to MY TWISTED LIFE JOURNAL for more unfiltered moments straight from the heart.
Let’s strip off the filters, embrace the real, and remind each other that chaos is a kind of beauty too.
Let’s embrace it together.
With love (and a bit of mascara-smudged wisdom),
Pavithra