The Moth - Looking in the Mirror: The Moth Podcast

Episode Date: September 25, 2026

On this episode, we’ll hear two stories of people going through big changes - as they literally reflect on themselves. This episode was hosted by Larry Rosen.Storytellers:Phineas Knowles has an eventful first shave.Esther Ngumbi vies to get her ears pierced despite her mother's objections.Podcast #1001

Mirror and mirror on the wall. Who is the fairest of them all? Welcome to the Mov. I'm Larry Rosen. You may remember that quote from Snow White. That is actually the way I start every morning. Now, in that scene from Snow White, we are introduced to the magic mirror. The magic mirror has been described as a moral judge, a truth reveal her.

a projection of the evil queen's inner state. And while that mirror is, of course, a work of fiction, mirrors in real life are often seen the same way, revealing not just the person you actually see, but the person who lies underneath. On this episode, we'll hear two stories of people going through big changes as they literally reflect on themselves.

Our first story is from Phineas, who told it at a Burlington story to slam if the theme was growing. Here's Phineas live and love. The day has come for my first shave. I don't really want to maintain a smooth face. I would much rather grow a luscious beard with a curling mustache, like a pirate or dwarf from Lord of the Rings. Yeah.

But it takes time. It takes time to accumulate enough hairs for such a feat, and everyone always tells you that shaving helps stimulate beard growth. So I've been waiting in anticipation to begin this process. And now I have whiskers growing in little patches. The time has come.

I already have the supplies, and I'm suddenly nervous. To be clear, at this point in time, I'm not a teenage. I'm a 29-year-old transgender man going through puberty a second time thanks to hormone therapy and because of this I have never shaved any part of my body before this day. So this is going to be a brand new experience and I realize I am not prepared for this. I want some pointers on how to shave properly but I don't want to refer to the vast knowledge of the internet. Most guys have someone present during their first shave.

A father, uncle, grandpa, kind neighbor, some masculine figure to coach and encourage them during this rite of passage. I want that connection, but I don't have family close by. So I Skype my older brother, who's in Oregon. He's more than happy to do a demo for me. So he sets up his phone in the bathroom. begins a tutorial. OK, so with shaving, you want to be careful about the angle

and pressure of the razor. Otherwise, you're going to cut yourself, y'all. Like I just did. This is why you want a stiptic pencil on hand. Press it to the cut, stops the bleeding pretty quickly. Now, don't worry about making funny faces to get around the mouth, especially right under your nose. Turns out my brother isn't good at talking and shaving

at the same time. He cuts himself several more times. Then ends the instruction with, and that's pretty much all there is to it. He smirks into the camera, blood dribbling down his cheeks and neck. This is not helping my confidence at all. But my brother says, look, you have a Gillette razor, right? That's really good for beginners. Just remember, do it slow, do it gentle.

You'll be fine. End call. So now it's my turn. I stand alone in the bathroom, lather up my face with foam, and pick up the razor with a shaky hand. I feel like Bilbo Baggins unsheathing his sword for the first time. It's a small blade but fully capable of damage, right?

Right? I press the flat head against my cheek and slowly slide it across my skin. Two inches. I rinse off the razor and take another slow stroke. Rinse, slide. Rinse, slide. I become intimately reacquainted with my face.

The jaw line, which I'm told, looks square now. My cheeks, too round and girly for my liking. The lips and sharp curve of the chin that I suspect will remain the same. the same and my neck, possibly thicker, but it's hard to tell. Hormone therapy is changing these features slowly, but not fast enough. I'm tired of seeing this face that lies about who I am, this face that is a source of constant misgendering. I want to look in the mirror and see the grown man that I truly am,

but it's a waiting game, just like the beard. One of the hardest ones I'm ever to endure. After 20 slow methodical minutes, I rinse off my skin. The deed is done, and I'm pleased to see that I managed it without one single cut. Thank you. That was Phineas knows. Phineas is an editor with ZigZag LitMag who has a deep love for impactful stories. His short stories and poetry have been published internationally and have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

Phineas enjoys cycling, playing the harp, pub singing, and meeting anyone's pet. We asked Phineas if you had any reflection since telling the story. He said, quote, I've since graduated from the Gillette razor to using an old school safety razor with a bowl and brush for lathering soap. After telling this story in 2022, my supposed brother in the story came out as my transgender sister. Suddenly, our roles reversed, and I became the brother showing her the ropes. I'm so happy that our close bond enabled us to support each other over the years, especially during milestones in our transitions. I couldn't ask for a better sister, even if her tutorials end with intimidating results.

After the break, a story about body modification. Back in a moment. Things are about to heat up. Southern heat. Crispy. Crunchy. Chicken sandwich? No. Sushi.

Settle up for something spicy. Introducing the Nashville hot chicken sushi roll by Bento. Find it in a grocery store near you. Our next story is a favorite from the archive. Esther Rumi told this story for us in a moth show. case in New York City. Here is Esther live at the mall. My mother was born in Machako's Kenya, a region that valued learning, a culture that emphasized to girls that they needed to put education first before everything else, including beauty. She pursued it her education

to the very end. She ultimately graduated with a diploma and became an elementary school teacher. So, when she raised and gave birth to us her five children, she made sure we understood that schooling would always come fast. But you see, she was raising us in a different region.

She was raising us in the Kenyan coast. And in the Kenyan coast region, people appreciated beauty from the tender edge and they emphasized less on education. In my community, girls were very beautiful, and I mean very beautiful. Their ears were pierced and so were their nose. they put on mascara and they painted their legs and feet with hina and I admired them day after day

and the more I admired them the more I felt the need to blend in I wanted to pierce my ears so badly so from the age of six to the age of ten I kept on questioning my mother I say to her, Mama, can I have my ears pierced? And year after year, her answer would never change.

Education fast. Beauty later, she would say. But you see, teenage years were fast approaching. And the need to look beautiful so as to attract the attention of boys was beginning to grow in me. And all my friends had their ears pierced, and of course they had their boyfriends. I did not have none.

And I blamed it all on my unaccessorized face, thanks to my mother. On the weekends, my friends would come to play, and half of our playtime was filled with stories about their first teenage boyfriends, how they were feeling so appreciated by these first loves, and of course, I had none. Then one Saturday morning, my friend, Warnasha, and other friends came to play with us. She was wearing her brand new earrings. They were round with a gold tone and with many sparkling beads. Oh, she looked beautiful.

and those earrings were just popping against her beautiful light-skinned color. And I remember, Mornasha did not want to play with me as usual. She wanted to tell me something. So she pulled me aside and she started whispering into my ears. Oh, I got my first boyfriend. The kiss. Ah, this boy is making me feel so loved. And on and on, she talked.

And I remember halfway feeling very angry, angry at my mother. Why wasn't my mother allowing me to look like my friends? And I remember saying, enough. Enough. I was going to pierce my ears. But you see, I was growing in a village where there's no Walmart or Claire's to go get my ears pierced. So I had to do it the old school way, which is self-piercing with a needle and a thread.

So I start assembling the tools that I would need to accomplish this dangerous beauty mission. I go to my parents' bedroom where the sewing kit is kept. I grab a middle-sized needle and I grab a thread, a black thread. I also grab a wall mirror that I would put on the wall to make sure that I pierce my ears at the right position. And I decide that the bathroom is the most safest place for me to do, to pierce my ears. So I take my kit and off I go. I lock the door and I take the needle and I put the thread and I put the wall mirror so that I could see what I was doing. I start pushing the needle and I'm feeling pain but my pain is overshadowed by the beautiful Esther I'm imagining I will look like oh my first key is my first boyfriend

after a minute the needle pierces through my earlob I tie the thread and I repeat the process I push I start pushing again and after what seems like eternity my second year is done. I take a big sigh and take a minute to appreciate my beauty for me. I also decide that I need to hide my piercings away from my mother, so I decide I'm going to wear a head wrap. But my small brain does not realize this is actually going to make me stand out in front of my mother. But I do it anyway. It's 6 p.m. and my mother returns. from her church event. I go, run, I grab her bag, I hug her, and I see her,

take a glance at my head, but she says nothing. So I assume we are cool, everything is okay. An hour later, dinner is ready, and I must serve it. I serve it, and I take my seat on the table. We all eat peacefully until the last minute, when I'm just about to put the last bite on my mouth. My mother calls my name. I begin to tremble and I drop the food that I was about to put into my mouth.

Is there any reason why you have an headscarf? And before I can blink, she is right behind me. She pulls the head wrap. And before I can even blink, she slaps me twice. And she proceeds to ask one of my sisters to go get a peasant. pair of scissors. And I'm just explaining myself, Mama, I just wanted to look

beautiful. And before I know it, she slaps me again, and before I can blink, she takes the scissors and cuts the thread and just yanks them out of my ears. Mama, if you really want and love me, why? Why don't you want me to look beautiful?

At this point, she stops punishing me. She wants to talk. She takes a big sigh. She tells me about her girlfriends who had put beauty first and what ended up becoming of them. Today they were mothers with many children and living in object poverty. She did not want me and my sisters to turn out like her girlfriends. She wanted the best for us. She's talking a switch if is flipping. I'm telling my

I must prove to my mother that I'm not like her girlfriends, that I am empowered and committed enough and self-confident enough to pursue my education and not allow beauty to distract me. Today I proceed on, I go to elementary school, I finish it, I finish my high school, and also go to university. Today, I have a PhD in entomology. I also have four sets of ear piercings, and my nose is pierced too. And I share a beautiful relationship with my mother. Thank you. That was Esther Ngumbi. Dr. Ngumbi is an entomologist and academic,

who is currently an assistant professor of entomology at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. That brings us to the end of our episode. Thank you to our storytellers for sharing with us and to you for listening. Maya Antaloo once wrote, The mirror is a silent observer, reflecting the true emotions we often hide from the world. We hope that when you look in your mirror, you see something beautiful.

Larry Rosen is a master instructor at the Moth. After 25 years teaching, directing and practicing theater and comedy performance, Larry discovered the simplicity, power, and beauty of true stories. Shortly thereafter, he found the Moth. As they say, timing is everything. Esther Nungupe's story was directed by Larry Rosen. This episode on The Moth podcast was produced by Sarah Austin Janice, Sarah Jane Johnson, and me, Mark Salinger.

The rest of the Maw's leadership team includes Gina Duncan, Marina Clucce, Jennifer Hickson, Jordanale, Caledonia Cairns, Kate Tellers, Suzanne Rust and Patricia Ureña. The Moth podcast is presented by Odyssey. Special thanks to their executive producer, Leah Reese Dennis. All Moth stories are true as remembered by their storytellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story, and everything else,

go to our website, the moth.org.