truths As a child, the mirror was not my friend. But a reflection of warnings - Girls who linger too long here are empty vessels, they said. Girls who paint their faces, paint over their minds, they said. I learned to turn away. The mirror gathered dust, I wore my bare face like a badge of honour. An armour against a world that measured me, by what it saw.   As a child, the mirror was her shrine. A canvas for the salvation she was promised. Dab the powder, hide your flaws the