“At night I’d stand in front of the mirror, eyes closed, imagining the face of a beloved friend. Upturned nose, wavy hair, dark eyes, wide smile, belly laughing, lifting eyebrows, skipping stones. I’d feel the champagne glow of love and respect radiating from behind my sternum. When my eyes broke open on my own hateful face, I squeezed the embers tight to keep them from fizzling out. I kept forcing myself to imagine feeling self-love.  Then one night when I opened my eyes, I didn’t see a ghoul or a failure or a mask. I saw a tired, imperfect girl who wanted the world to be kind. And the love was already there.”