Amelia found herself in front of the door again – the door that had always been there, the same door that she had forbidden herself from opening. Those who opened the door and walked in never walked out the same person they were before. She had heard stories. She had been warned. But in that moment, overcome by curiosity, the thrill of adventure, and the desire to conquer fear, Amelia started turning its glass knob.
She hesitated.
The door was not closed anymore, but it wasn’t open either. Not even the slightest glint of light shone through the tiny crack. She couldn’t tell what was on the other side. With either one push or one pull, Amelia could return to her standard life of a teenage girl, or go out on a whim and change all of that.
She pushed.
Suddenly, Amelia found herself in a room. But this was not an ordinary room with four walls, a floor, and furniture – no, not at all. This particular room was covered from floor to ceiling in black and white checkered mirrors, floor included. Each block forced Amelia to look at herself in ways she had never seen before. In some checkers, body parts were misshapen; these same body parts distorted in others. In one checker, Amelia found herself staring at a beautiful woman with a goddess-like figure. This woman’s body definitely didn’t fit Amelia’s awkward and lanky figure. And for that reason, Amelia started to hate herself. Contrary wise, in another checker, the girl Amelia found herself staring at looked like she couldn’t be more than ten. She was so frail and small. The girl seemed as if she was as fragile as the mirror itself. In comparison to Amelia, this girl’s body made Amelia’s body look like it belonged to the goddess of a woman from before. And for that reason, Amelia started to love herself.
No matter what version of herself Amelia had found herself marveling at, whether she was awestruck by the gore or by the beauty, she knew that all of these reflections were in fact, reflections of her. She started to wonder – to question. “If all of these reflections are of me, why does each one make me feel differently?” Looking at each checker – staring at some and just barely glancing at others – Amelia came to realize an awful truth. Her opinion of her own appearance was completely dependent on her opinion of the appearance of others.
Leaving the room with her newly discovered epiphany, Amelia turned the glass knob, and could not help but look at her reflection. She noticed the hairs that were out of place, the freckles that seemed to be put on her face at random, even how her right nostril was slightly bigger than her left one. With her left hand on the doorknob, Amelia found herself hesitating once again, if only for a second. This time, she pulled.
She left with a conflicting desire to be loved for who she is while desperately wanting to be perfect. But how could she, could anybody, be perfect to everybody all of the time? She knew she couldn’t, and with that disappointment, she dragged her feet back the way she came.