Mirroring My Reflection

I've never been more comfortable with who I am, than I am right now.
But sometimes I see the reflection in the mirror, and wonder just who is looking back at me.
The hair dyed brown, and the natural brown roots growing, are starting to blend seamlessly.
Im not sure where I start, or where she ends, but just a glance and I can tell we are not one in the same.
Maybe on the good days where my back isn't hunched over with pain, when I'm standing at my tallest.
That's me, I'm sure of it.
Only because my momma always told me I was the most curious and courageous of her children.
I see the courage when I stand tall, so I know that its me in the mirror.
On the bad days, I stand in front of the sink with my head down, avoiding eye contact with her at all costs.
I know that's not me.
My grandma told me we don't stare at strangers, its rude and impolite, and with the way my head stays bent, eyes stuck staring into the white porcelain sink, I know.
I don't look for long before I force my eyes down, I don't know the girl in the mirror, she isn't me.
And,
I've never been more uncomfortable with who I'm not, than I am right now.