I don't really remember it. Self confidence. It's hard to grasp the idea of such a thing. Surely it's an impossibility. A myth. A fake. I turned to the mirror for a second opinion. Even though I'm personifying this reflection, it agreed with me. It highlighted hoe much of a mess I am. Ribs and hip bones begging to hide. Scars from years, months, weeks, and days before stood out on my legs and arms. They represented all the scars I couldn't see, but never stopped noticing. Purple shadows clung to my eyes that stared back, unforgiving. Almost unbelieving that the horror was a person. I closed my eyes but the image remained burned in my brain. How did I end up like this? A burning, boiling hate heated my body and turned my cheeks pink with rage. I'll never be who I want to be, I hate me.