I can see everyone yet I can see me?

Out of all the people I’ve ever known, the one I know the least is me. Not in a romanticised sense. But literally speaking. I don’t know what reaction I make when I am excited, when I am upset or frustrated. I don’t know if my smile is beautiful or ugly. If it is worth to pluck flowers for, I don’t know how deep my dimples go. I have only ever seen me recorded which feels like seeing a stranger. I have never seen myself unconsciously not paying attention, not performing.

When I look in the mirror I know I am looking at myself and in all my consciousness I try to be pretty, smiling big or doing my eyes. I have sometimes looked in the mirror while crying to know what I look like while crying. I have never seen myself asleep, I have never seen myself concentrating. I don’t know myself clearly.

I know my hands, my legs, my body how can I not? I can look at it every second. But I never see my face so I am unfamiliar to it. In many ways. I think it bothers me not knowing me how others see me.

Also a thing about me is that I often find people quite cute not exactly because the face. It’s just sometimes how they act, how they giggle, how they change their voice while sulking is cute. It makes me laugh. Also when they do something innocent or are too clumsy, there are many things I find cute in people I can see but I don’t know how I look when I tell them they’re so cute. What kind of face I make. Is it a bittersweet face that I make that where all my thoughts are written on my face in a messy handwriting. So my yearning to know myself will be read by everyone like an open book I will be distinguished from rest of the world for feeling something they don’t relate to? And found guilty of being overly sensitive or performative.

Sometimes wonder how do people believe they know themselves best because they can’t see themselves, they only know what they like to eat, their hobbies, favourite shows, favourite ice cream flavours, or the wild thoughts that only they can hear. But little do they know those thoughts don’t even truly belong to them. It’s only their desire to know themselves they mistake those thoughts for their own. If they see a movie on a specific genre, or talk to a person with some other thoughts, their thoughts change in an instant and struck in the loop they pass those thoughts to another and abandon the current ones for new ones. They’re also the people who consider their younger selves foolish for having different thoughts than them. Yet they still dare to call those thoughts their own and believe they know themselves best. Yet in reality they never know. Or they never will.