Soft Revisions (V2)

I started watching myself in quiet places. Noticing how the angles would shift in different light. I wasn’t trying to look like anyone, just less like what I remembered. Some days, I imagined my eyes farther apart. Other days, a different shape to my jaw. I didn’t force it— I just let the thought stay there, hovering. At some point, I noticed people looked at me differently. Not for long — just a pause, a flicker. I couldn’t say what had shifted. Maybe the space around my mouth. Maybe something behind the eyes. I didn’t ask, and no one said anything. That was good. It meant the work was happening quietly. I never thought of it as escaping. It wasn’t about hiding, or pretending. It felt more like maintenance — like brushing teeth, or trimming nails. The idea was simple: If my face could match the version I kept seeing inside, maybe the rest of me would follow. Not better. Not worse. Just aligned.