The first thing I see in the mirror is the Elephant Man. Acne scars—some light, some dark—dot my face like a constellation, and in my mind, I start to connect them. I chuckle. Now I really see him. The Elephant Man and I feel like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

I roll my shoulders back, then my neck in slow, circular motions with my eyes closed. The bathroom light warms my eyelids. I breathe in deep through my nose, feel my chest rise, and slowly release the air from my body. When I open my eyes, I’m hoping the Elephant Man is gone. That maybe—just maybe—I’ll see someone different.