"Anyone can slay a dragon. . .but try waking up every morning and loving the world all over again. That's what takes a real hero." - BRIAN ANDREAS
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![]() There are too many faces in the mirror. The light bounces off my mother's nose, dances in my grandmother's dimple and pauses at the edges of the full lips of an unknown Cherokee Nation ancestress. My eyes change color daily, hourly when there are too many faces in the mirror. Mine are eyes that reflect my bright blue classroom, my soft blue children, the grey of my inner self and the pale green of "You must be Irish." But I'm not a natural redhead - the fire is inside - or even the blonde of my angelic naive youth. I dutifully hide the grey of my womanhood from everyone except the too many faces in the mirror who silently judge anyway. The judgments scar as much as the stitches over my eyebrow from that drunken night, or the chicken pox mark just over my cheekbone. The nose is too big and the cheeks are too fat and the flaws are all only mine even when there are too many faces in the mirror.
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March 2020
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