Mirror mirror on the wall, I’m the fairest of them all, you hear me?

Let me let you in on a secret. *whispers* I really really love staring at myself in the mirror. No, scratch that. I think all reflective surfaces more like.

When I was young, right about from when I was five or six years old young, my favourite thing to do was talking to my reflection. I was a weird kid (though I’m sure friends will tell you I’m still kooky), and when my elder sister (like most older siblings do) wanted me out of her face, I just had to find another person to talk to. Which in this case, was myself.

Many afternoons and evenings (couldn’t do it in the presence of more normal people, could I?), I would sit myself down in front of my parents full length wardrobe mirror, and have a good old chat with well, myself.

Real me would talk and even ask questions to Reflection me, and Reflection me would reply and “we” would get conversations going. Oh, what glorious times those was. So many hours well-spent. I guess you can say I really knew myself better. Ok corny.

My sister caught me in the act once, gave me a crazed look, and told everyone we knew, that I was a nutter. Even my parents. I vaguely remember them asking me if I was mad. Till this day, old friends still bring it up.

P.s: If they suspected I was not quite sane, they never took me to seek professional help. Must have not minded having a crazy child, my parents.

So, that’s the background story to my love for all things that reflect me right back at me.

Recently, I’ve been staring into mirrors more than usual. Checking for pimples, lines that sneakily crept onto my face overnight like a sniper, wondering why my basic makeup just doesn’t cut it these days, and of course, how great I look. *beams*

I honestly think I look mildly fab. I wouldn’t go as far as to compare myself to the Victoria’s Secrets models, but I ain’t no Quasimodo either. So, why am I so unwanted?!

O.k.a.y, so I’m no angel. I have a quick temper. But I don’t snap at people for no reason. Yes, I swear, I talk and laugh loudly, I don’t take shit (unless I’m into you, then I’ll allow you to throw noodles in my face AND rub the leftovers into my hair), can be bossy sometimes, but I’m also funny (I think), swee….. Wait. How do I speak nicely about myself without coming across as shameless? I can’t? Oh. Ok never mind.

Yes. So. Unless there’s some serious character flaw(s) that I’m unaware of, or if all men are blind, why not me? Or more specifically to X, what the hell are you waiting for?

I’ve been scrutinising some pictures of myself lately, (and you couldn’t find a bigger narcissist two streets down, across and under) and I would so date myself if I wasn’t me. Would you bring me home to get parental approval?

image

So datable, no? Lol.

I love mirrors. And pictures of myself. Perhaps I should just ask myself out more often.

xoxoxoxo.

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