I started telling stories very early in my life. I only now this because I am in possession of a blue cassette tape with recordings of a story I used to tell. I will never let this tape out of my sight. My Uncle Ronnie, gone from his earthly life for now 35 years, asks me questions and I fill in all the blanks. I love hearing his voice and our conversation. I think I was 4 or 5 at the time and my imagination was running wild. Similar to ow my brain works today. Uncovering this tape while packing up my apartment started a chain of events that I did not realize until today. My creativity was leaving subtle hints telling me to “live your life girl”. She, my creativity has her own alter ego, placed this tape in front of me weeks before moving and then she placed my journals in view of my friend a few weeks later. As my friend helped me pack I read her a few lines of some prose dating back to late 1990’s. She was impressed and I thought to myself maybe I’ll get those dusty books out and convert them to a word document. So today was the day – I wanted to browse through to see if anything was inspiring or even good enough to put out in the universe. Of course I laughed at a few but I also could feel the emotion, the joy of love, and the heartbreak that followed of the day when I wrote some of them. It took me back to who I was. I will save the heartbreaking romantic ones for another time but for today I wanted to share a few lines from when I was searching for who I was then and now (or then and then).
What was it about the taste of life that I just couldn’t get used to? It seemed like I had filled my mouth with it so many times that my tongue couldn’t taste anymore. There was no room in my belly for the emotions I was having. I wanted to live, happy with friends and I wanted to always just be me. Remember that girl with pigtails, rain coat, still standing knee deep in mud with a worm in one pocket and a crayfish on the line. Giggling with her big sister. Where has she gone? Did she grow up? Has she filled her belly with unwanted tastes of life as well? Did she learn to live on pins and needles? Am I still that girl? Remember that girl hiding in the closet. Drumsticks in her back pocket while she meticulously curled her hair. She blushed her cheeks, as she wondered if she could still shoot a 3 pointer without ruining her painted face and nails. Did she grow up? Does she live with an ache in her belly from the loves she let pass by? Does she have love now? Am I still that girl?
Now, I know what you are thinking, of course I shot the 3 pointer with hair and nails did, I’m a powerful girl! When I read what I wrote years ago it is clear that not much has changed. I am still that girl. I still feel full of the life I have lived but want more everyday. I remember dreaming as a teen girl of all the places I wanted to see, I still want to see those places. As a young girl I wanted to learn so many things, I still crave learning new things daily. I remember that girl who fell in love for the first time and the heartbreak, I still fall in love and still feel heartbreak – or do I cause heartbreak, still unsure. I also remember that girl in her 30’s so confused about life and what it should look like, and I am still just as confused today. Take some time today to remember all the different girls you have been, you have evolved each time and think of how powerful that can feel.
I am still that girl.