As days of looking into the mirror rolled into years; The twin glaring back at you- was never good enough, a stranger. The mould too strict for you- too fat, too thin, too basic to fit. Sulking for hours on end offer no solace till you realise. It took you this long, darling to see that the mould, in fact is mind's play. For beauty is that which flows from flawed perfection. Love yourself.