Quite some time ago I did a post called, "This Girl" that was inspired by another post I had read on another blog. For my LA class, we had to write a personal narrative, my mind immediately thought of that blog post. I decided to give the original post an overhaul and turn it in for my assignment. Here is what I came up with. . .
This girl.
She is as complicated as an algebraic equation, as faceted as a diamond, and as colorful as a rainbow peeking through the clouds after a summer rainstorm.
A Wonderer. A Silent Musician. A Creator of what she considers art. Her eyes see things others do not. Books fuel her. Her husband and children complete her. She is who she is without apologies.
She has hopes, dreams, and ambitions. . .never told to others, because of the fear that if they are spoken, they may never come true.
She learns. She grows. She makes mistakes, and then she tries again. But, oh how she hates making mistakes! Perfection is unattainable; yet, still something she strives for. Perfection frustrates her, complicates her life, and makes her wish that sometimes she could just be free from its bonds. She knows that no one is perfect and is harder on herself than anyone else would ever be. Perfection is her greatest fault, yet one of her driving forces, and one of her greatest assets. Perfection is her double-edged sword.
She is a friend. A confidant. A great listener. People come to her with problems, and she sincerely cares and wants to help. A loyal friend is one she will cherish for a lifetime. A friend she can laugh with, or cry with, will capture her heart forever.
Alone time rejuvenates her, and gives her time to sort out life’s complications; lets her remember who she is and what she believes. Reflections on the past, ambitions for the future, being happy with the here and now; they all make up who she is when she stands in front of the mirror and looks at herself staring back at her.
She loves to photograph, but despises being photographed. She finds comfort behind the camera and apprehension in front of it. She has constant dreams of traveling the world, meeting people from all cultures, learning from them, learning about them, and calling them her friends.
Wrinkles, age spots, and an occasional gray hair, remind her that 40 came far too quickly, and she cannot run or hide from it. She still feels 20 something, no matter what her driver’s license says.
She never wants to feel old. She has seen what time can do. . .forgotten memories lost to Alzheimer’s. The confusion and frustration in the eyes of her grandmother, as her only son became a stranger. Time can be brutal. She knows age can erase a lifetime of celebrations, and leave you wondering who you are.
She smiles often, sometimes even when she doesn’t want to, and sometimes to mask the pain she feels inside. Cherished moments fill her thoughts: the miracle of birth, unconditional love, and hope for the future. Seeing the glass half-full, even when it isn’t always easy.
She is a person who genuinely loves life; laughs as often as possible; tries to find the good when there only seems to be bad. She knows that when life hands you lemons, you make lemonade.
She is layered. Layers that are hidden. Layers that are shared. Some simple, some serene. Some deep, some complex. Some that she understands, some that she wishes she could peel away. Layers she has yet to uncover, even to herself.
This girl? This girl is me: hoping, laughing, dreaming, living. A voyage of self-discovering; an awakening as to who I am, and who I want to be.
