I remember when I was a little girl, I often stood on my toes, trying to find my face in the mirror of the dressing table, which was nearly as high as I was.
    Now I still like to look into the mirror.
    Only now, the dressing table is too low for me.
    As I bend down, I see the face of a young woman, glowing with maturity, confident in her future and fascinated with her own reflection.
     The fact that I like to look into the mirror has to do with my granny with whom I spent most of my childhood.
    I remember clearly that one night I heard her murmuring, Women cant be seen.
    Women cant be seen.
    I was so confused as to look into the mirror the next morning to check if I could indeed see myself.
    Only now as a young woman myself, can I understand that it was not physical visibility that granny had on her mind.
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