Monday, November 15, 2010

Lonely Girl

In all the deep-cleaning we were doing last week, I came across my old poetry journal. You know I just had to stop everything I was doing and look through the pages, and in doing so I realized two things.

#1: I wrote some very depressing stuff.

#2: I wasn't very good at it.

Part of me, the part that remembers how purportedly intelligent and "gifted" I was in my younger years, is embarrassed. Almost embarrassed enough to chuck the thing into the woodstove to ensure that no one else ever reads it.  And yet, I know I will do no such thing. Because another part of me, a surprisingly large part, not only remembers that lonely young girl, it realizes an undeniable truth.

I still am that lonely young girl.

Sitting here at the ripe old age of forty-one, I can look beyond the years back to that miserable little teenage girl and see her with perfect clarity. There she goes, scurrying down the hallway like a frightened mouse surrounded by traps, trying to navigate her way through a sea of humanity without making contact with it. Shoulders hunched, books clutched to her chest like a shield, she silently passes through the crowd of light and sound like a silent shadow. Her eyes are kept downcast lest anyone see the desperate pain of sheer longing she fancies would show...if anyone would be bothered to look. Her hair is un-stylish, her clothes unflattering. She has neither the means nor the skill to change either. In a world of Saks Fifth Avenue sweaters and Gucci handbags, she will always be an outsider.

I'm about a million miles away from that world now, but that girl still lives and breathes inside me.

6 comments:

punkinmama said...

Very well written! My heart aches for that little girl... knowing that she is inside of me too!

Petula said...

That's really powerful and very well expressed. I can relate to still seeing that little girl and knowing she thought things would be different now.

Irritable Mother said...

Ah, Wendy.
When I was in fifth grade the boys made some deal that they would say 'yes' to the first girl who asked him to 'go with' her. There was one boy (Steve) who was already 'going with' another girl (Heather), and his part of the deal is that he would break up with Heather if someone asked him to go with her, instead.
Well, the boy I liked had already been taken, and a few girls told me I should ask Steve. So I wrote a note to Heather and asked if she would be mad. She wrote back - and I know I'm remembering this word-for-word:
The only reason you want Steve is because you can't have Greg, and you CAN'T be different.
She was right. I hated being on the outside.

Yes, that girl still lives in me, too. And every day I am trusting Jesus to rescue her.

Katie said...

Yes! This is exactly how I feel and you expressed it so beautifully! Big hugs to those girls inside both of us.

Mrs. Stam said...

This is beautifully written, I still fell like you, like I don't belong. I came to the conclusion that I'm different and different is not bad :-)

I think I can truly say that I'm happy

Have a great evening
Renee

Crazed Nitwit said...

What can I say but I can relate to what you wrote. I can really relate.

Gentle hugs.

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