Mina stood in front of the mirror, the soft hum of the bathroom fan filling the quiet space. Her dark hair framed her face, loose strands falling over her shoulders as she stared at her reflection. The sleeveless brown tee clung to her frame, outlining the curves she’d spent years trying to love. Her shorts sat snug around her thighs, the fabric pressing into her skin just enough to make her hyperaware of their softness, their fullness.

Her eyes trailed over her body, picking apart every inch—her rounded arms, the way her stomach wasn’t flat like the girls she saw online, the curve of her hips that felt too wide. She knew her girlfriend adored her, had traced loving fingers along these very features, whispering how beautiful she was. And yet, the words never quite settled.

She exhaled shakily, pressing her fingertips against the cool porcelain of the sink. Her chest felt tight, her throat thick with emotion as she blinked rapidly, willing away the sting of tears threatening to spill. Why couldn’t she see what her girlfriend saw? Why did her own reflection always feel like a battle?

Her arms folded over her stomach instinctively, as if hiding it would make the doubt disappear. The bathroom light cast soft shadows along her skin, emphasizing everything she wished she could change. She shifted her weight, pressing her thighs together, feeling how they touched—another reminder.

Mina swallowed hard and forced her gaze upward, meeting her own eyes in the mirror. She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t unworthy. She knew that. But knowing and believing were two different things.

She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face before gripping the hem of her shirt, hesitating. The shower was waiting, warm water promising comfort, an escape from the mirror’s harsh truths. Taking a slow breath, she pushed the thoughts aside—at least for now—and reached for the faucet.