By Margueritta Rahal Imagine standing in front of a mirror.Your reflection moves when you move. Smiles when you smile. Looks sad when you look sad. You and the reflection look inseparable, but you know there’s a difference:The reflection reacts, you choose. Most people forget that difference inside their own minds. They look into the mirror of their thoughts and assume the reflection is them, the fear, the overthinking, the judgment, the panic, the endless loops. But that’s the actor in you.And the actor is just a reflection. The real you, the one who sees the reflection, is the observer. Some people avoid the mirror not because they’re afraid of who they are, but because they’re afraid of who they’re pretending to be. They think the actor is a fraud. It isn’t. It’s just a role. A temporary costume. A human phase. And roles can be changed the moment you become aware of them. Now, imagine watching a movie. The actor gets hurt, heartbroken, betrayed, and your body reacts as if it’s happening to you. But you know it’s not real. You’re not inside the story. You’re watching it. Your own life works the exact same way, but you only realize it when the lights are off and your head hits the pillow. That moment before sleep, when the world is quiet, and your thoughts get loud, is the moment the actor and the observer crash into each other.Suddenly, all the questions arise: Why did I react that way?What if I made the wrong decision?Why can’t I stop thinking about that conversation?Why do I feel anxious when nothing is wrong? And your mind starts running, inventing stories, replaying scenes, predicting disasters. What if nothing is actually wrong with you? What if the only thing that’s been hurting you is the story you tell yourself about yourself? Think about it. You’re never really afraid of what other people think of you. You’re afraid of what you think they think. You’re afraid of what you think about you. It’s your own echo that scares you. But the only one who is really watching you,  is you. When you don’t know the observer in you, you mistake the actor for your identity. You judge yourself, doubt yourself, critique yourself from a place that was never meant to lead. You find it hard to love yourself not because you are unlovable, but because you haven’t met yourself yet. You’ve been performing instead of being. The moment you step back into the observer, the one who sees clearly, who knows your intention, who was never broken, you remember that you decide who you are. And the world simply reflects that. The actor on stage thinks everyone is watching them, everything is urgent, everything is personal, everything is real. But underneath that noise, there’s another presence.A quiet, steady one.Your intuition.Your observer. And here’s the truth you’ve always known but never said out loud: You only overthink when you don’t listen to your intuition.When was the last time you overthought something you were certain about?Never. Because certainty comes from the observer, not the actor. Overthinking is the actor.Intuition is the observer. You’ve felt this thousands of times.A decision that didn’t feel right, but you did it anyway, then suffered for it.A relationship you knew was over long before it ended.A “no” in your body that your mind turned into a “maybe.”Your intuition whispers.Your actor argues. Imagine looking into a mirror again.If the reflection is upset, do you assume you are broken?No.You adjust something, your hair, your posture, your expression.The reflection changes because you changed. Thoughts work the same way. Your thoughts are reflections.Your attention is the real you.The moment you shift your attention, the reflection shifts. But most people stand in front of the mental mirror, blaming the reflection for what they feel.“I’m not enough.”“I’m always anxious.”“I can’t trust myself.”“I always mess things up.” You’re not judging life, you’re judging the actor.And the actor is just a role that learned fear.Not the truth of who you are. If you don’t know who you are, you’ll keep trying to find yourself in someone else, through their reactions, their approval, their love, their validation, and you will never find it there. Knowing who you are means being at peace with both roles: the actor who feels, reacts, gets lost, and the observer who sees the truth without fear. When you recognize this, you stop chasing mirrors and start recognizing the one who is actually looking. Coming home means realizing the search was never for the world to see you, it was for you to finally see yourself. You already met the observer in you :When a friend is panicking, you instantly step into clarity.You listen, you breathe, and you gently pull them out of the drama.You redirect them.You remind them they’re exaggerating the story.You show them options they couldn’t see. You never tell your friend, “Yes, let’s go deeper into fear.”You naturally pull them out. Why?Because you’re observing.You’re not inside her story, you see the whole picture. But when it’s your mind spiraling?You forget you have that same power.You become the actor.Every fear feels real.Every thought feels true.Every emotion feels final. You already know exactly how to calm the actor; you do it for others all the time.You just forget to do it for yourself. Every thought can become true from the perspective of the observer.But the actor only sees limitations. The actor says:“I hope things work out.” The observer says:“Things are already aligned. Go.” The actor reacts.The observer directs. The actor sees the problem.The observer sees the solution. The actor sees the noise.The observer sees the whole picture. When you check in with the observer before you act, you don’t just think better, you create better.It’s the moment the intelligence of your subconscious, your intuition,  your energy,  your higher self, begins moving through you. This is the part people call God within, or the universe, or pure awareness, or your higher self,or simply you without fear. The moment