Do we really know ourselves best

Brush my teeth, wash up, make up. All in front of a mirror. For years, this is the routine. I look into the mirror every morning, looking at my hair, brush strokes of blusher, but yet I didn't see myself. I was too absorbed by the routine that it becomes something I do ritually every morning.

This morning as I was falling into a daze in the train, suddenly I saw a woman in the reflection on the glass window opposite me. A woman with long hair, sharp jaw line, full lips, sit with straightened shoulders. There is something edgy about her. She look confident, stoic, calm. For a moment, I feel almost intimidated by her presence. Yet I can't help to notice this soft lovingness beneath her face and body. The kind of bliss you see in a child. It took me a while to realise the reflection is mine. I'm the woman I saw. We always remember faces of people around us; friends, loved ones. Do we remember ourselves? How we look in the mirror, how our features all sum up together to make this being we are. If you were to ask me to paint of portrait of my friends and loved ones, I would probably able to do so with some reminiscing of moments. However, if you were to ask me to paint a portrait of myself, I'm not so sure if I could do it. This is a valuable insight for me. How do I love myself if I can't even recognize myself in my reflection.

We recognize ourselves when we look back at photos taken. But is it really seeing and recognizing ourselves or it is simply a knowing that we are in the picture. Or is it the moment we remember? All these got me really intrigued.

Just because we are in this body we see in the mirror, does that mean we know ourselves most?

Perhaps next time when someone tell you they know themselves best, ask them to sketch a self portrait.

Here's a mirror reflection of me taken by my friend. First look at the photo, I didn't really recognize myself. I just know its me.