How to Survive Your Reflection

How to Survive Your Reflection

By [Yasir Zeb]

Step One: Approach with Caution

Stand before the mirror like it's a loaded weapon.

Because it is.

You already know this.

You've been shot by it before.

Not with bullets, no—but with glances that slice, that linger too long on your flaws, that echo the words others left behind like bruises:

Too fat. Too thin. Too plain. Too much.

Look into your reflection and wait for it to flinch.

It won’t.

The mirror is brave in ways you are not.

It does not blink. It does not lie.

But it does magnify.

And that’s where it begins.

Step Two: Name What You See

Point to the shadows under your eyes. Call them "evidence"—proof of survival.

Name the scar on your chin “Ten,” after the number of stitches you got when you fell trying to ride your bike downhill with no hands.

Trace the curve of your belly with the reverence of someone studying a map to buried treasure.

Because maybe it is.

Name the frown lines “Unsaid Things.”

Name the stretch marks “Growing Pains.”

Name the acne “Hormonal Rage,” and the dimple on your cheek “Resilience.”

And when you get to the eyes—pause.

Don’t flinch this time.

Don’t look away.

Because this is the part where you decide whether to see or just look.

Step Three: Make Contact

Say hello to yourself like you’re greeting a stranger you’ve been avoiding at a party.

Awkward. Forced. Maybe a little resentful.

It’s okay.

Your reflection remembers everything you’ve ever said to it. Every time you sighed in disappointment. Every time you whispered Why are you like this?

It remembers the years you used it only to pluck, paint, smooth, and shame.

But it’s still here. Still showing up.

Still waiting for you to say something kind.

Try this:

“I’m sorry for blaming you when it was never your fault.”

“I forgive you for becoming what others told us we had to be.”

Or even:

“I missed you.”

You might cry. You might laugh. Both are acceptable offerings.

Step Four: Look Deeper (But Not Too Long)

Here’s where it gets dangerous.

If you stare too long, the mirror will start to ask questions.

What are you hiding?

Who do you pretend to be when others are watching?

When did you first start believing you weren’t enough?

It doesn’t ask to be cruel. It asks because it wants to know you. All of you.

But take breaks.

Reflection is a form of time travel, and time travel can get disorienting.

Step away when your bones start to tremble with truths you’re not ready to say aloud.

You can always come back. The mirror will wait.

Step Five: Say Something True

Say it aloud.

Even if it’s ugly. Especially if it’s ugly.

"I am jealous of her."

"I wish I were different."

"I don’t know who I am without the pain."

And then… say something else.

"I deserve peace."

"I am more than what they see."

"I am still here."

Because surviving your reflection isn’t about falling in love with what you see.

It’s about recognizing that the image staring back has earned its place.

It’s about honoring the person who made it through the hardest parts of your life—you.

Step Six: Leave the Light On

When you walk away, do it with the lights still on.

Don’t hide the mirror behind a scarf or tilt it away.

Let it stay in plain sight like a monument to your return.

Because you will return.

Tomorrow.

Next week.

On the day you feel beautiful.

And on the day you don’t.

You will come back.

And every time, the mirror will greet you not with judgment, but with quiet resilience.

Because now, it knows you’re trying.

Optional Final Step: Teach Someone Else

Tell someone what it’s like to survive your own reflection.

Tell them how hard it is, how holy, how healing.

Leave a note on the mirror for your younger self.

Leave a lipstick heart for the one who comes next.

Remind them:

You are not your flaws.

You are not just a face.

You are the stories behind the eyes.

The weight behind the posture.

The soul, the scream, the softness.

You are the mirror.

You are the reflection.

And you are the survivor.