I was once a fair haired, dark eyed creature who ran through the forest giggling, weaving tales; full of creative joys and insights. Enchantment and magic ran with me. Red rubber boots and a dress pulled over jeans because that’s the uniform for all good adventures. I was fully me. I loved people with my sweet innocence. No one saw me, but I didn’t care, I ran with nymphs in fairytales
…until I did, until I cared, until I wondered why no one “saw me” and then I stopped being me. I became something I thought worth seeing. “See me” I would shout. “See me” I would cry. I began the work that would get me seen. And yet, I was always shouting, “See me”. “See me” I am doing the right things. “See me” I am standing on the soap box. “See me” I have morphed enough to seem like you. Can you see me now? And the magic slipped away with the fair haired, dark eyed creature.
And then I saw me.
It took so long. Waiting to be seen. And then I saw me. Only a glimpse. Far off, running through the trees, disappearing in shadows. Giggling. Weaving tales. Like a whisper.
Now a tall, strong, dark eyed creature with just a wisp of fair hair to remind me how to run. Creases are now maps of paths walked and rewalked. I make trails through the forest and conjure stories inspired by old lore. My feet move more sure with each step, retracing and making new.
And now I see you. What story do you need to tell?