Dear Three-Sided Dressing Room Mirror,
I couldn't let it go. I know I said I would. But I can't. We need to talk.
OK, you're supposed to be helping me, here. Right? Isn't that what you do? Isn't that your job? Maybe you don't like your job, but in today's economy, you should probably be a little more grateful. And a lot nicer.
I'm not trying to accuse you of outright lying, but I think that you might be bending the truth a little. I have looked at myself plenty of times. I have some mirrors in my apartment. And I don't look like that. Not completely. I'm really not that bad. At least, I'm not all of those bad things at once!
Before I met you, I never thought that I in any way resembled a duck. Now I'm not sure. And that makes me nervous.
Actually, I just get the sense that I don't really know what I look like at all. Maybe you weren't trying to make me feel that way, but that's how it ended up.
You have a lot of authority -- you should be aware of that. You have three sides! Most mirrors only have one. Please don't misuse your power. I know it's probably tempting sometimes. Or maybe you're just bored. But when you tell me something, I'm more likely to believe it than when a regular mirror does. So be gentle!
You weren't gentle the other day. You really hurt my feelings. You might not know this, but I've worked pretty hard to accept the way I look. And being with you for even a few minutes feels like losing months and months of that work. You're like a giant paper shredder, and I'm a writer. I don't like paper shredders. I'm trying to like you. I want to get along. I want to admire the view of my back. So why do you have to make my neck look so stubby? Are my arms really that thick? Don't answer that.
Also, it's only a matter of time before someone tells your boss: You're making me a lot less likely to buy anything. I'm not going there yet. I'm going to you, out of respect. Because I think you and I might be able to work this out.
Can we try to work this out?
I'd really appreciate it.
Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Kate
This post also appears on Eat the Damn Cake, where you can find more stuff from this writer