WHO AM I

THE MIRROR LIES

Sitting in the old tree near my house, I tapped mindlessly at my phone, waiting for the driver to show up. The early morning sun felt warmer than usual, but nothing could take my mind off the thoughts swirling in my head. My Instagram feed flashed before me—one picture, three likes. Correction—two likes from actual people: my best friend, and some random guy I barely know. The third like? Yep, mine.

That wasn't the worst part. The 306 comments attached to the post burned through my phone screen. Each one harsher than the last.

"Ugly."
"Why would you post this?"
"Try harder next time."

It was like they couldn't stop themselves from tearing me apart. Puzzled, I swiped back and forth between my photo and others, wondering what was so wrong with my post. The more I compared myself to my friends, the worse it felt. Some of their photos were nowhere near as good as mine, and yet there they were—hundreds of likes, heart emojis, fire emojis. Meanwhile, I got nothing but hate.

"Hm, if they didn't like my pictures, why couldn't they just ignore them?" I whispered to myself, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. The familiar sound of tires crunching on gravel snapped me out of my thoughts. My driver had arrived.

With a sigh, I slid down from the tree and climbed into the car. Wiiiiish, woosh—in a flick of an eye, we reached school. As we pulled up to the gates, my heart sank. The place that was supposed to be a second home had become a battleground—one I wasn't ready to face.

No matter how many times I tried to convince myself it didn't matter, the comments followed me like shadows. I hadn't realized it, but somewhere along the way, I had started questioning who I was.

Who am I? The question lingered, echoing in the back of my mind as I stepped out of the car and into the chaos of high school, where everything—likes, comments, and popularity—seemed to define who you were.