The Beauty in Mirrors


Summary: Looking at your reflection poses a challenge of finding out the difference between beauty and ugliness.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl.


My name is Blair Waldorf and I have an eating disorder.

Things like that don't just roll off the tongue. They stay behind closed doors, where no one can see the truth, where all secrets hide.

I couldn't tell you when it started, because truthfully, I don't remember anymore.

I don't want to remember.


To say that I'm insecure would be a complete understatement. I had a beautiful best friend who I thought was better than me, and somehow I knew that my boyfriend was in love with her.

I wanted to be beautiful. I wanted everyone to like me.

One day, I looked in the mirror, and I saw a hideous person. I wanted to get out my own skin, become a different person, but obviously, I couldn't.

So I did the next best thing and tried to make myself feel better, look better, be better.

But things slowly got worse.


I said nothing was wrong when people asked. I tried to smile more, even though I was unhappier than I'd ever been.

Even though I never intended it to happen, someone found out.

As I was throwing up my Thanksgiving dinner, Chuck Bass walked into the bathroom and his eyes locked with mine.

I didn't know if he wanted to help or hurt, but I needed someone to understand.

And if anything, he tried.


I flushed the toilet, stood up, and pretended like nothing happened.

I breezed by him, hoping that he would act like nothing had happened, but he said something that I really needed to hear.

"You're beautiful, Blair." He told me, almost trying to look into me, trying to see why I was hurting, why I was crying on the inside.

I didn't respond, but I smiled to myself, still walking, wondering why Chuck Bass, of all people, had comforted me in the time when I needed someone the most.

Serena left the city soon after, and I took over the school.

I stopped throwing up. I was happy. I felt beautiful, at least for a little while.


People knew who I was, and that was everything I ever wanted until I got it.

I never complained, but people were breathing down my back, demanding things of me.

Someone was always watching me.

I felt good, I did, but when things got out of hand, I binged. It didn't happen often, but Chuck knew whenever it happened, and although it was so very unlike him, he consoled me.

He always told me how beautiful I was, always said that I was better than what I was doing, and I knew I was, but I just couldn't stop.

Serena came back, and I was insecure again, knowing that Nate was going after her again.

When I learned that they had had sex, things spiraled out of control.

I was as insecure as when it all started, maybe even worse than that.


At some point, I stopped loving being the center of attention, but my pride got in the way, and I wouldn't back down and let anyone take my spot as queen.

I felt important, and really, that was all I ever wanted.

But I realized that what I wanted wasn't anything near the truth.

I wanted to take it all back, let Serena have the fame and the glory, but it was too late.

This was something that I would always carry with me.


I like to think that someday I'll get rid of this nag and be happy again, never to stick my finger down my throat and heave into a toilet again.

But I'll always be a bulimic, even if I ever beat this.

And I want to, I really do, but it just keeps on coming back.

My insecurities, my thoughts about being ugly, they always come back.

I don't know how to get rid of them.


Thanksgiving was always a time when the problems would arise again, either from family drama or something as simple as looking in the mirror.

After starting a relationship with Chuck, I thought that Thanksgiving would be fine that year, that I would be happy and nothing would go haywire.

My father didn't show up and I was convinced that I wasn't wanted, wasn't loved, wasn't good enough.

So I binged. I felt horrible, sickened with myself. I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to feel normal again.

I called Chuck but I simply requested that he not come over.

He told me something new that day.

"You're not going to be able to get over all of this until you learn how to save yourself."

I realized that I had simply relied on people helping me get over my problems and I wasn't helping myself. I was only causing more pain, more agony, and I had no idea to get through it without the comfort of another human being.

I didn't know how to save myself. So I called Serena, hoping that I could hold onto someone one last time.

I would learn how to take care of myself eventually. That was not the day that I'd start.


I was fine for a year. By that time I knew I was beautiful, knew that I no longer had insecurities to project, knew that I was loved and I loved in return.

And even though things between Chuck and I got complicated, he never wavered when I needed help, and vice versa.

As long as I had him, I was fine.

After Bart died, things changed.

I tried to help him, save him, like I always did, but he left.

I'd never felt more alone in my life.


I hadn't looked in the mirror and criticized myself in a while, but I found myself face-to-face with the wall-to-floor mirror in my room.

I saw a girl. Her eyes were empty and her hair was a mess. Her dress was wrinkled and her face was pasty.

She was a fallen angel.


How I ended up in heaving in the toilet once more was a blur, because it had become so natural over the years that it felt like nothing.

I didn't want to be the girl in the mirror. I wanted to be Blair Waldorf, the girl who smiled, the girl who loved more than anything, the girl who was happy and had no issues, no problems.

The truth was, I hadn't been that girl in a long time.

I never did learn how to save myself, so I just fell down until I hit rock bottom.

This was rock bottom, and it was not fun.


A month later I would look into the mirror once more, but instead of feeling empty, I felt lost.

I didn't know when I became so dependent upon the help of other people, especially Chuck, but I didn't know how to go by myself anymore.

So I lay against the wall of my bathroom next to the toilet once more, looking up at the ceiling and hoping for something better.

I didn't see my savior walk in. I didn't see him at all until he wrapped his arms around me, reminiscent of what I once did for him, something that seemed to be so long ago.

I took in his warmth, his comfort, his love. It was something that I had missed and longed for.

I felt beautiful again. I felt like I was home in his arms.

And that's when it slipped out of my mouth, the truth, everything.

"My name is Blair Waldorf and I have an eating disorder."


Author's Note: So here's a little oneshot, with a lot of Blair and a bit of CB.

I don't do happy much anymore, don't I? XD

I love you guys for staying with me! I always write for the readers, no matter how much or how few of them there are!

Reviews, please! I really want to know what you think. Thanks, Cass