I decree, I declare, and I decide—today, I look at the woman in the mirror with mercy instead of criticism. I see her through the eyes of God, not through the lens of shame, regret, or comparison. I forgive her for the mistakes she made when she didn’t know better. I forgive her for staying too long in places that broke her. I forgive her for silencing herself to be accepted, for overextending herself to be loved, and for abandoning her own needs to keep others comfortable.
I release the weight of every “should have,” “could have,” and “why didn’t I.” I understand now that she was doing the best she could with what she knew at the time. And that is enough.
I speak life over her. I honor the battles she fought in secret and the tears she cried in silence. I celebrate her resilience, her faith, her persistence, and her ability to rise again even when she didn’t feel strong enough to stand. I tell her—you are worthy, you are beautiful, you are powerful, and you are loved.
I no longer curse my reflection with harsh words. I will not stand in front of the mirror and rehearse my flaws. I will bless the woman I see, speak kindness to her, and believe in her again. I love her—not for her perfection, but for her progress. I love her for surviving. I love her for trying again. I love her for being brave enough to heal.
From this day forward, the mirror will not reflect my failures—it will reflect my forgiveness. I will meet my own eyes with compassion. I will speak truth to my own soul. And I will love the woman in the mirror the way God loves me—completely, unconditionally, and eternally.