A mirror stands in my bedroom greeting me everyday when I wake up. It is the first thing I see before leaving the room and each day it tells me I am not good enough. My hair is too short, my body is too fat, my skin is too dark. It is disgusted seeing me and it wishes that I stop staring into its eyes every single day. It wishes to see more beautiful people than me. It wants to see an actress brushing her long blonde hair. It wants to see a swimsuit model getting dressed for the day. It wants to see a singer smiling into its clear smooth surface. I pity the mirror sometimes. If I could hear its pleas, I would do what it asked and I would give it to someone who deserves to be looked at. Anybody but me. But I know that will never happen. Instead, the mirror is stuck to the floor next to the window in my room crying silent tears every time I awake.