Feelings Aren’t Facts
4 min readAug 2, 2021
As I walked by my bedroom, I noticed my mother doing something that made me stop and stare. With fingers strategically place on her forehead and cheeks, she tugged at the sagging skin as she examined her reflection in the mirror. In my sixteen-year-old mind, I thought, How strange. So, I asked as only a teenager would, “What the hell are you doing?”