Looking into the twisted mirror, I see one person: myself.

There is just one of me piercing the vulnerable reflection with unwavering dedication. Only the one I can see—the one bold enough to present itself on stage to the audience of life—greets my call for arms. Alone, I stand in the mirror.

That me, the one I see, the one you see, the one the world sees, has perfected, planned paths ahead through obscure obstacles and corrupt challenges in life; every option has been calculated. Every opportunity has been sought, sticking to the predetermined and well-worn guide of those before me. Variables have been considered as an equation with all outputs, positive or negative, being graphed on the charts in my head.

This me likes to think and study and analyze. Everything needs a path in this mind. Roles in the world are cut-and-dried to fit my expiring narrative in a world where I wear glasses decorated with negligence to make all of life revert to black and white.

I’m proud of this, or at least this me is. Studying, academics, extracurriculars—anything to be better on paper than in person entices me. AP classes, a 4.0 GPA, and scholarships are the closest checkpoint down this path of mine as I make my way through life, fighting for these goals.

Yet the sun’s commanding call for Herculean light rays moves across the mirror, shifting that blade of blinding shine right into my eye. Instinctually, my fingers huddle to one another, lift to my perfidious eyes, and rub.

My eyes open, my hands fall back to my side, and I stand once again looking into my reflection.

But something is clashing with the image from before; this isn’t the previous me. It is yet another version, another contradictory costume of myself, standing there with fists still brokenly balled.

Jubilant color instantly crowds my vision as those snide glasses have come off in order for my eyes to truly see the world. This me has an innate smile as I glance into the mirror, radiating an olio of profound viridescent rays and feelings of unquenchable curiosity. No plans, no strenuous calculation of the future—just relaxation rivets the frame of this version of myself.

Focusing on passions instead of perfected plans and grades, a glimmer of an unknown yet exciting future conceals itself in my amber eyes. Simple breezes and short poems infatuate the mind of this mine. Languages stack themselves on the tip of my tongue. Visions of landscapes in faraway lands roll across my eyes.

This me, one so very divergent from the first, has a whimsical sense of adventure and a goal to pursue it all.

This me wants a different path, one full of brush and muddy difficulties, but one of her very own. And when the light blinds me once more, I rub my eyes and see yet another me.

This switching of who is reflected—who I truly am—continues in a vicious, taunting cycle, one hidden behind us all; the mirrors expose what I am afraid of the most in life: uncertainty in life and who I will be.

Everything is an unknown to me. I am still just discovering myself, my life, the world, and so much more. I am too young to make concrete decisions—too inexperienced. But yet as I type I’m bombarded with questions of the future, questions I have not yet decided on.

Where will I go to college? I’m just a sophomore. What will I major in? I’ve barely taken anything besides core classes. What career do I want? I haven’t even begun to process that.

And that’s okay.

There are multiple paths for every person. You don’t need all your ducks in a line. You don’t even need a plan for tomorrow.

Breathe. The unknown is perfectly okay. You have time to learn about yourself, to figure it all out. And sometimes, it’s best to not know.