She’s 15,
I’m 32.
She’s trying to fit in,
I’m standing out.
She’s afraid of failures,
I’m learning from my mistakes.
She’s keeping her feelings bottled up and maintains a secret dairy,
I’m letting it all out and my life is an open book.
She thinks she’s lesser than others,
I believe my only comparison is with her.
She’s a shadow of my past,
I’m a reflection of her experiences.
She’s conscious of her looks and body, constantly thinking, “I don’t have the perfect body.”
I am confident of my body, constantly reminding myself, “The perfect body is a myth and I’m working hard to keep my body fit and healthy.”
She uses her words to bring comfort to her mind,
I use my words to send out a message.
She craves love and attention to validate everything she does,
I love myself enough to know what I wear, think, and do, doesn’t need approval from others.
She hides behind books finding solace in fiction that life fails to provide,
I talk about books, helping myself and others find truth via fiction, making life a little better.
She avoided talking to people, not knowing what and how to talk,
I listen to people, knowing I don’t need to talk and definitely don’t have to avoid people because I can’t talk much.
Have you met this girl or the woman she has become?
***
I came across an old photograph of mine that prompted me to think about how I’m different from the girl who I used to be as a teenager.
Thank you for reading.
***
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What a lovely transformative journey (and poem). Really liked how you ended with girl or the woman she’s become.
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Thank you so much, Suchita. 🙂
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