“What do you see?” He held her by her shoulders, their eyes met, looking at each other’s reflection. “What do you see Amber?”

Amber fixed her shirt, her messed-up hair, trying her very best to look great.

Henry wrapped arms around her waist so she would stop whatever she was trying to do. She now avoided looking at herself in the mirror, ashamed of what she might see and realize if she tried to answer his question.

“I know you are tired of making yourself look acceptable to others, so they won’t dislike you, or be turned off of how you look, or even how you present yourself.” He lifted her head so she could see her tired self in the mirror.  “It is okay to be tired, you know. Just admit that you are tired of all of these,” his fingers gently ran through her hair.

“But you know I can’t stop this, whatever I am doing. I don’t have time to be tired, to accept the fact this has to stop,” once again, she fixed her hair and her shirt - fixing how she should and must look in front of everyone else.

“How could they accept you, if even you can’t do that?” He stood beside her and held her hand, still looking at her in the mirror, their gazes meeting. “Don’t look at me, look at her.” He pointed at the other Amber – her reflection.

“I hope the Amber that I know, the Amber that I am with now, the one that I am looking at, is the real Amber, you and her,” He once again pointed at the mirror, “are just the same person, not the one who tries too hard to be fully accepted by people, not the one who felt the need to constantly please everyone else except herself. You don’t need to pretend, you know. You don’t need to. So what do you see Amber? Or rather, who do you see now as you look at yourself through this mirror?”