Am I good enough?

I looked at my mirror for about the millionth time. I tucked in my hair and then untucked it again. I took out my tube of mascara and started applying it to my eyelashes. I sprayed perfume, took a quick twirl in front of the mirror, and started heading out the door.

Am I pretty enough?

I walked back into my room and stepped in front of my mirror again. My chestnut brown hair was braided perfectly down my back and my light freckles went perfectly with my imperfect face and hazel eyes. I looked into my eyes in the mirror which glistened like my mother's.

I remember the time she once held my hand and the day she died on the hospital bed from ovarian cancer. We held each other tightly while she closed her eyes, trying to get rid of the sight of her impending demise. She wanted to remember something happy, but the only thought in her head was the fact that the cold hand of death was reaching out to her. She needed to feel something deep, but there was only fear. She needed something that meant something, but all she could think of was her death moments away. She wasn't ready to die— she never was. She raised me as a single mother and always tried to keep me happy.

Was I enough?

Our hands were still in a tangle while her death seemed to inch through eternity. She knew that it was the end as a single glimmering tear shimmered out of the corner of her eyes. She knew it was over. She fluttered her eyes as her strength faded and she fought against the unbearable pain. She needed to say something to me as her last words. She parted her chapped lips and couldn't find the right thing to say. Nothing was coming out, and she didn't have any time to figure it out. She held my hands tighter and let go.

Stay true to yourself.

She let the world drain into nothingness.

I took a tissue and wiped away the hot tears brimming down my powdered cheeks. I looked at the mirror and started reapplying my mascara. My mother and all our indelible memories hold something very dear to me. I needed to treasure my life as she taught me to when she was alive. I need to love myself. I glanced at the mirror once again, gave myself a confident smile, and walked out the door for the last time.

You are enough.