The invisible struggles

Distorting Mirrors

Elena was standing in front of the mirror in her university room, her eyes fixed on her reflection, which was intensely staring back at her. She was a young woman of twenty with silky brown hair and bright green eyes, but all she could see were her imperfections. Her mother had always insisted on the importance of being presentable, of conforming to the beauty standards established by society. Every year at the beginning of the new school year, she received a neatly packaged parcel filled with expensive beauty products: face creams, makeup, body lotions. It was as if her mother was trying to tell her that in order to succeed, she had to be beautiful.

Still, no matter how much foundation she applied, how many times she brushed her hair, or adjusted her clothes, Elena couldn't help but feel inadequate. The mirror only showed her flaws, features that she found too large, too angular, too imperfect. Every line on her face seemed to scream her imperfections. She wondered if anyone else saw them as clearly as she did. The pressure mounted even more when she opened her social networks. Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat—all those places where people posted their lives, filtered and retouched. Every selfie, every group photo was an invitation to comparison. Elena scrutinized every detail, every pose, every artificial smile. She knew that these images were often staged, modified to appear perfect. But this did not prevent doubts from creeping into her already fragile mind.

On days when she felt particularly vulnerable, she lost herself in a whirlwind of self-criticism and despair. She felt like she was never up to the task, that she would never match the ideal image that she thought she should represent. She remembered her mother's words, repeated like a mantra: "You must show yourself in your best light, Elena. People judge you first on your appearance."

But with each failed selfie, each unsuccessful attempt to put on makeup like the influencers she followed, Elena felt her confidence crumble a little more. She wondered if her friends, Lucas, Maya, and Alexander, also saw her flaws, if her forced smiles really concealed her inner discomfort. Instagram filters seemed to have become both her blessing and her curse. They could erase her imperfections, soften her contours, but they also left a trace of deception that haunted her. She knew that these images were not real, but they still exerted an insidious pressure on her self-esteem.

Elena sat on the edge of her bed, her gaze fixed on her phone. She fought against the compulsive urge to browse the profiles of her friends and complete strangers once again. She knew that it would only aggravate her anxiety, but it was like a drug that she could not resist, even though she knew that it only fed her doubts and insecurities. Elena's cell phone vibrated on her desk, interrupting the studious silence of her university room. She glanced at the screen and saw her mother's name displayed. A mixture of nervousness and anticipation filled her as she picked up the phone.

"Hello, Mom," she said in a hesitant voice. "Hello, my dear!" her mother replied in a cheerful but urgent tone. "How is your return to the university going? Are you settled in well?" Elena felt a lump forming in her throat. "Yes, Mom, everything is fine. I'm well settled in." "Perfect, perfect," her mother continued restlessly. "I was thinking about you and wondering how you were doing with your appearance. You know, now that you're in college, it's important to look your best. Have you thought about those beauty products I sent you?"

Elena bit her lower lip, remembering the carefully packed boxes of creams and makeup waiting in a corner of her room. "Yes, Mom, I received them. Many thanks." Her mother seemed satisfied. "And have you started using the products? I'm sure they could really make a difference. You could try this new anti-acne cream that I found. It should help with those little imperfections you sometimes mention." Elena felt as if the weight of her own insecurities was suddenly pressing on her shoulders. "Yes, Mom, I'll try."

There was a pause on the other side of the line, then her mother resumed, her tone becoming more serious. "And have you thought about hair removal for your face? I know you have those fine hairs on your cheeks and chin. Electrolysis could really help you feel more confident, my dear."

Her mother's words resonated in Elena's mind as a constant reminder of her perceived imperfections. She looked down at her trembling hands, feeling overwhelmed by a mixture of shame and pent-up anger. She had hoped that the distance of university would offer her a respite from her mother's constant criticism of her appearance. "Maybe I'll think about it," she finally whispered, her voice almost muffled by the emotions that threatened to engulf her.

Her mother seemed not to notice her discomfort. "It's a good idea. You look so pretty, darling, but a little maintenance wouldn't hurt. You have to remember that you represent our family, and it is important to give a good impression to others."

Her mother's words sounded like a cruel echo in Elena's mind. She knew that her mother only wanted her to succeed in a world that often valued appearance above everything. But for Elena, every well-intentioned piece of advice was just another pinch on the gaping wound of her already fragile self-esteem. "Thank you, Mom," she managed to say, struggling to keep her voice steady. "I'll think about it." "You really should, darling," her mother insisted. "I just want you to be happy and confident. That's all that matters to me."

Elena nodded, unable to say more. She knew that her mother would not understand the magnitude of the impact of her words. They had always clashed over this delicate issue of appearance and self-confidence, a silent battle that left Elena feeling torn between the desire to please her mother and the desire to finally find peace with her own reflection. The conversation continued for a few more minutes, then her mother seemed satisfied with Elena's answers and moved on to other topics. Elena finally hung up, dropping her phone on the bed with a sigh of relief mixed with sadness.

She got up slowly and walked to the bathroom, the images from social networks and the silent criticisms of her mother swirling in her head. She looked at herself in the mirror, desperately trying to see something other than the flaws that her mother had pointed out to her. But all she saw was a tired young woman, trying to find her way in a world where the image sometimes mattered more than reality.

She heard a slight beep coming from her laptop. A group message from her friends: Lucas, Maya, and Alexander, planning to meet for lunch in a few hours. A glimmer of hope pierced the haze of her dark thoughts. Maybe spending time with them could distract her from her obsessive concerns. Maybe they didn't see her the way she saw herself. Elena slowly got up, making an effort to turn away from the mirror and her painful reflection. She took a deep breath and headed for the door, leaving behind the unopened beauty products on her desk. She knew there was more to college life than the perfect image she was striving to project. Maybe, just maybe, her friends could help her see that too.