I Still Check My Stretch Marks in Every Mirror
Every night, I run my fingers over the faded lines on my hips, as if maybe this time they’ll be gone. I’ve tried everything—egg whites, lemon juice, cocoa butter, the expensive creams that promise to erase the past. I used to hide them under high-waisted jeans and baggy shirts, convinced that if anyone saw, they’d know I was broken or careless or just not enough.
Sometimes I catch myself searching for them in harsh bathroom light, picking at the skin, wondering if I could scrub them away. I know they’re supposed to fade, but I can’t help but count them, like tally marks for every time my body changed without my permission. People say they’re normal, but I still flinch when someone’s eyes linger too long. I wish I could stop caring, but most days, I just want to feel untouched.
#SkinStory #MirrorFatigue #BodyRealness #Beauty #Skincare
