The Woman in the Mirror



I am a bully.

I tell the woman in the mirror,

“You are disgusting.”

When the number on the scale

starts creeping up, I say,

“You are fat. You need to diet.”

When the number goes down again, I say,

“Good…but not enough.

“You are still fat.”

I am cruel to the woman in the mirror.

I notice every blemish.

I tell her she’s getting older,

she looks tired,

she needs some makeup.

“You should try harder.

You should hide your flaws before someone else sees them.

Cover them up.

Starve yourself.

Don’t you want to be beautiful?”

Never in  my life,

have I been as cruel to anyone

as I am to the woman in the mirror.

If it is not okay to say these things to 

a stranger,

a friend,

a sibling,

a child,

a loved one…

why do I think it is okay to say them

to the woman in the mirror?


I didn’t write this poem to receive reassuring comments. My mind understands that I am not “fat” or “disgusting.” But it is sometimes hard to convince my inner-bully. She cannot be reasoned with. The only way to silence her is to drown her out.

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