There Is a Girl Inside

One of my students recently wrote an essay about the 'undiscovery' of herself.  She wrote about a morning when, looking in the mirror at a face she'd seen hundreds of thousands of times before, she felt as though a stranger was staring back at her.  She worried about this at first but then took it to mean she was 'undiscovering' what she believed she had known in order to make room for what she was--hopefully--going to learn in the future, not only about herself, but about the world and how she views it.


Smart cookie, her.


I know that feeling really well, the long stare into my own eyes that leaves me questioning who's really in here.  When I was younger, the answer was easy: singer, actress.  All through high school, this is who I was.  Singer, actress.  I was the choir/theatre/forensics kid who liked to read and write but never more than I liked performing.  On stage, I didn't have to deal with myself.  On stage, I got to be somebody--anybody--else.  That's not to say that I had serious self-esteem issues or that I hated the 'real' me, I just never let myself slow down enough to know her.  For about four years straight, I was in a production of some kind nonstop, usually with three week windows in between that allowed only for sleeping, recharging, and gearing up for the next role.  


I was not and am not a great actress, but I loved it, and passionate commitment goes a long way on stage.  I was lucky that people thought I was good enough to keep casting me, never in anything really important, just school and college shows, but they were enough to keep my ever having to learn who I really am at bay.  I had ideas, flashes of self, but they were always like the Northern Lights: bright, almost scary in other foreignness, and fleeting.


I got so used to playing parts, that I developed a public self that really doesn't gel with who I've always hoped to be.  This public self is opinionated, brassy, and for years was the loudest and last one standing at most parties.  I got to where I believed the only way someone could be interested in what I had to say was if I said it in an acid tone, or if I held court from my deluded and half-drunken perch in some dark room.  


When you're wrapped in a steel overcoat, not much hurt gets through, but of course, neither does much light.


So, in my efforts to stop deflecting, to stop worrying about being hurt, to know the girl inside and to introduce her to everyone else, I'm writing this little self-indulgent post.  If you've managed to hang in this long, thanks--I'm almost done.  I just want you to know these few things about who I really am, so the next time we speak, you're clear about who you're talking to.


* I believe every person has something to offer the world, that no one is a waste, and that we all deserve to be happy.


* I'd rather be hurt than hurt someone else.  In every instance.


* Choosing to be alone so that someone I love could be happy is the hardest thing I've ever done.


* I really want you to know how beautiful I think you are, no matter who you are.  


* No matter what story you're telling, if it matters to you, it matters to me.


* I am trying every day to deserve the incredible gifts I have been given.


* There is nothing more important than honesty, love, and passion.




There Is a Girl Inside, Lucille Clifton


there is a girl inside
she is randy as a wolf
she will not walk away
and leave these bones
to an old woman.


she is a green tree
in a forest of kindling.
she is a green girl
in a used poet.


she has waited
patient as a nun
for the second coming,
when she can break through gray hairs
into blossom


and her lovers will harvest
honey and thyme
and the woods will be wild
with the damn wonder of it.