A few months ago a song called She Used To Be Mine by Sara Bareilles made me stop in my tracks. It’s about life not turning out in the way you wanted and feeling like you’ve lost a part of yourself. I can’t think of a song that has ever hit me like that before and after listening to it I immediately burst into tears.
I thought back to my final year of high school; (16 years ago.. eek!) I was excited about leaving and what the future held, “we can start living and be free to do whatever we want,” I laughed excitedly to my friends. But unfortunately due to my social anxiety disorder and mental health struggles it didn’t really work out like that for me. I went to university and dropped out after 3 months, struggled to hold down a string of basic jobs and ended my long term relationship two years ago after he cheated on me. My relationship was a big part of my life and after it ended I felt lost, as I realised just how much focus I’d put on him rather than myself. (I’ll write a post about why neglecting yourself in a relationship is a bad idea soon).
For the last two years I’ve been slowly rebuilding myself, having therapy and thinking about exactly what I want from my life. I’m not quite there yet but I believe I’m on the right track. Sometimes I feel a bit sad for the naive young girl I was, whose soul was a lot lighter and more optimistic, but the truth is with age comes wisdom. Although I haven’t achieved everything I wanted, I’m still proud of myself for carrying on and growing so much as a person.
The song really inspired me so I decided to write a poem.
Finding Her Feet
The funny girl with the vivid red hair,
Lost herself as the years passed and the people fell.
She reached the end of her path,
And tumbled across the ground grazing her knees,
Watching as the others kept walking.
Her hair is still red but it’s faded now,
And she carries on smiling but without the vivre.
She might have a plan but can’t see the wood for the trees,
But that’s OK because now she’s found her feet.
The red transforms into chestnut brown,
Her outer layers crack and fall into jagged pieces,
She exits the thicket and boldly steps into the breeze,
The woman she is can now simply be.