The Girl I Was. The Woman I Am.

The mirror, they say, never lies.
But for a long time, when I looked at its reflection,
I felt as if someone had died.

Someone so joyful, so happy, so free.
Who looked at the sky and thought,
man, it’s good to be me.

She never walked when she could skip,
never skipped when she could run.
Never bowed to conventions,
or let others ruin her fun.

She gloried in twirly, swirly skirts, ruffles and lace.
She had her head in the clouds,
and wore her emotions on her face.
She kept her nose in a book,
and her dreams? They were on public display.

But one day, a boy’s cruel laughter found its way in.
In past the joy,
in past the freedom,
all the way in.

He shredded her fantasies,
jeered at her dreams,
and for the first time,
she realized she couldn’t win.

That girl, she came down to earth that day.
She learned the world could hurt her,
Would hurt her,
Would shatter her soul.

She bundled herself up,
locked her dreams up tight.
She curled in on herself,
And never let anyone in without a fight.

But time, they say, heals even the worst wounds.
And that girl became a woman,
a lover, and eventually,
even a mother.

She found her voice,
and unfurled her wings.
She sharpened her talons
And learned how to scream.

She screamed and she screamed,
Freeing her rage, her fear and her pain.
She yelled until she was hoarse,
and let the wind carry it all away.

Then she looked down at her tiny daughter,
at her furrowed brow and grasping hands.
She soaked it all up,
absorbing the love, the wonder, and the joy.

The happiness she found lifted her up and up and up
until she was soaring through the sky,
laughter fizzing in her veins.

She made a promise that day,
a vow to make things right.
To recapture the girl she was,
and teach her daughter how to take flight.

Because the world, it can hurt you,
will hurt you, but that’s not the end.
And joy? It’s everywhere,
sometimes it’s just hiding around the bend.

So now, when I look in that mirror, do you know what I see?
A  woman.
A  lover.
And a damn fine mother.
Man, it’s good to me.

This post was written as part of Mama Kat’s Writing Workshop. The prompt I chose? Write a poem about who you are, or who you are not. But I honestly don’t know where this came from. It surprised even me. I won’t pretend it’s the best poem ever written, but it seems to have bubbled up staight from my soul…so, I guess I’ll go ahead and post it.

Now head on over there and see what everyone else did with this week’s prompts!

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