Once in a blue moon, I look in the mirror and love what I see.

It's never planned, these rare moments. I'll be brushing my teeth, or just fixing my hair, caught in the rhythm of everyday life, when something ever so slightly shifts. The harsh and critical fog lifts, and my heart softens like butter, just long enough for me to catch a glimpse of myself. No, not myself, someone different, someone... beautiful. 

But, it doesn't last long, one blink, and it's gone. My familiar reflection fades back into view. The way my hair sticks out of place, my acne plagues my face, and my shirt emphasizes the features I struggle so hard to hide. 

It's interesting how quickly the mind turns on itself and how easy it is for your brain to unravel like yarn at a simple thought. One minute I'm riding an all-time high, just to come crashing down, and drown in my insecurities. 

But once in a blue moon, I feel different. It's as though time stops, and behind the storm in my mind, I can see the person that I want to be. Or maybe the person that I've always been, hiding beneath layer after layer of expectations, fear, and comparisons. On these rare occasions, it feels as though the sun shines just for me, highlighting the parts of myself that I often pick apart. 

The last time that it happened, I was getting ready for an interview. My first interview for a full-time position post-graduation, a moment that I had not only been dreading but also anticipating. I pulled on a forest green blazer, and my favorite floral blouse, which accents my brunette hair perfectly. As I walked to the mirror, I didn't see all the usual flaws. I didn't obsess over every single hair being in place or the fact that my shirt had a few wrinkles in it. 

For the first time in a long time, I saw someone capable. 

Maybe it was the way the colors accented each other or the way the sun shone golden beams through the window, but I felt beautiful. Or maybe, just maybe, I was starting to believe that I was enough. That I could just be enough. 

As I prepared for the interview the feelings of dread and excitement welled up inside me like a pool. I ran through potential questions in my head "What are my strengths? What are my weaknesses?" I began to play with my sweaty hands and stressed, "How do I convey my passion without sounding desperate?" I fidgeted with my necklace, smoothed out my hair, and readjusted my blazer for the 4th time since I sat down. I practiced slow breathing and told myself, "You got this." 

Suddenly, my name was called, I jumped as though not expecting it to be called. I got up and walked through the sleek, white office, into the interview room. The woman sat before me and introduced herself, but all I could notice was how her beautiful blonde hair perfectly complimented her face. 

Then came the first question. "Can you tell me about a time that you overcame a challenge?" I smiled and walked her through a recent project I had been working on in my internship, and how the deadline had suddenly been bumped up. It had soon become an all-hands-on-deck scenario, working extra hours just to complete it on time. 

As I finished speaking the familiar pit in my stomach appeared. "Did I sound confident? Was that a good enough example? Can she see my acne scars? How many hairs are out of place?" I scanned her face for an ounce of approval, and then just like magic, I saw a glimmer in her eye. I felt the confidence inside me swell like an orchestra climax. She continued with her string of questions, and I answered swiftly and even managed to crack a few jokes. 

That is until she asked, "What are your weaknesses?" I had prepared for this question, but had I really? My brain racked through my list of flaws, and I found myself stuttering. Then the anxious thoughts flooded like a tsunami "Does she see my potential? What if my answers aren't good enough? Maybe I'm not good enough."

Her next question snaps me out of my train of thought. "So tell me about a project that you are proud of," she asks. I tell her about a recent presentation that I gave about LGBTQIA+ representation in the media to my entire team, and they want to make efforts to be inclusive in the ad space because of it. My voice is steady, clear, and confident. She then smiled at me and told me she was impressed, shook my hand, and then led me to the door. As quickly as it began, it ended.

As I walked home, I felt the rush of adrenaline soaring through my body. This had been my chance to show who I really was, beyond the labels I often placed on myself, and I had done just that. This feeling was rare, just like those moments in the mirror.

Once in a blue moon, everything aligns. At that moment, I realized that I had not just survived the interview, but thrived. I had spoken from the heart and embraced my true self. Maybe those far and few apart moments of self-love were justified. Perhaps they were simply glimmers of the person I could truly be if I just let myself embrace who I am. 

As I sat on the train, the dread came back. The cold dark subway had taken my warmth away, and along with it my hope. "What if I don't get another interview? What if they saw my flaws the way that I see them? What if this is just like the other moments where I'm left staring at my reflections, and my flaws stare back at me?"

Yet there was something different about this time. I was beginning to understand that those moments of self-acceptance were not mere isolated incidents, but little stops on a long journey. They served as reminders that I was capable, worthy, and deserving of every opportunity that came my way. And most of all, I'm beautiful.

I took a long deep breath and listened to the hum of chatter, and the clicking of the train on the tracks. With each passing station, I thought to myself about what awaited me on the other side of this journey. I saw not just who I was, but who I could become. As I opened my eyes, I caught a glimpse of my reflection and smiled because, once in a blue moon, I look in the mirror and love what I see.