The Girl Within

Sometimes in the mirror,

I gaze at the girl’s eyes,

The girl I have inside, myself.

And in that reflection,

A flood of feelings arises, surprise...

I’m not used to reflecting,

It’s a journey so deep,

Even treacherous at times.

Though life blooms as a mother,

I whisper softly, as she might be asleep:

“You’re sweet. I loved you. I miss you.”

It wasn’t long ago,

Just a dozen years passed by…

Or maybe more so?

In this fleeting time,

The few pounds I gained,

A multitude of emotions lived,

My world expanded and love multiplied.

My heart felt the strain

and the power of the divine.

Long ago, before motherhood times,

After evening concerts,

The next day, early morning,

hoarse and tired, after a quick early shaorma,

After a night out with friends,

dancing and laughing,

It felt good to kick off my shoes,

I was free to sleep, dream, and plan.

In those moments inspired or acquired,

There were times I sinned lightly,

With a glass of red wine, a shot,

Smoking a cigarette, one puff,

Chasing dreams that were mine.

I chased after desires,

Felt sadness creep in, sublime,

But at least I cried rarely

Just once or twice for real,

It was lust, my imagination, or some infatuation.

I stumbled through my choices,

Searching for my one true dream,

But I couldn’t see it clearly

So I kind of just went with all on a whim

Built a new bridge to a world I craved for

And lived to bloom and rediscover “me”.

Motherhood rose through,

I became myself through rebirth.

Through birthing small humans,

Illusion defied me, as I wanted to be all.

A thousand tasks overwhelmed me,

Stealing moments away,

Precious time of expression,

I didn’t sleep much then.

I read all the time, novels, fae fantasy,

Chikflick books, were snacks for my time.

Though I could have slept each day,

Now it seems like a waste,

My precious glow rusted away.

It seemed sometimes the world was ending.

With triggers and warnings from the past,

I was lost, falling deeply into collision

With a self that was one of a ghost.

If only I could share my hope now,

With that little girl inside me,

That summer’s warmth is near,

That healing is bound to happen,

Especially after I chose the correct gear,

To work on myself and to rise.

Though sometimes it’s hidden,

She’s on the right track —

I’ve changed and grown differently,

There’s no more turning back.

Yet I still see her smiling,

Beneath that messy bun —

For though life blooms as a mother,

I whisper to her:

“You’re loved. You’re my one.”

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***I originally published this story on Medium with my pen name Eleanor.***

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