Judge Me

I'm standing in my dimly lit hallway.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Overwhelmed with emotions I have yet to figure out. So scared of what people have to say and think of me. A social chameleon, now so translucent.

I reach for the handle. The door swings open. The rugged white IKEA carpet - my stage. My bathroom - the centre of the universe.

I want to cry. Scream. Run away. But I can't.

I place my feet on the carpet with my eyes closed, dreading what is to come. My left arm fumbles on the wall, in search of the light switch. My fingers feel the edges of the white plastic. I feel helpless. I take a step outside myself. View myself from an outside perspective. But my face is blurred.

Another breath. A clench of the jaw. A shake of the shoulders. A shrug. A determination.

I switch the lights on. Darkness.
Then

Blink

Blinkblink

My judge catches me as soon as the light hits my face. Stares me down. Makes me feel small and weak. Mimics me. Makes me confused. Wonders who is standing on the other side, so afraid.

Every second passes unnoticed. Time is irrelevant.

I stare back. Try to put words on the situation.
Respect? Doubt? Disgust?

After a few minutes, I realize; neither.

As I turn off the light, I smile.