Before you say who you are, tell us what you’ve noticed. Something small. Something slightly improper. Something you wouldn’t say in polite company—but would murmur to a woman you trust. A shift in culture. A truth you’ve outgrown. A contradiction you’ve learned to live with. A thought you’ve been carrying quietly, like a secret folded into a glove. You may speak in a sentence, a fragment, or a borrowed line. You may offer observation without explanation. You may let the mirror distort the truth—slightly. Remember: It’s no use going back to yesterday. You were a different person then. Step through. What do you see now?