Not the first chosen
OR the last either
Somewhere in between.
Not a Pollyanna
(and certainly not a purebred)
I am a poopoo platter of what I’ve seen -
and where I have been.
Taken out what did not work-once or twice with this-
A late bloomer, they ( still) say-she’s either hit or miss-but
I am evolving all the same. Thank-you very much.
Wanted to be a blond-
but then again I was six.
Now, I’ve forgotten my true hair color
somewhere between deep brown and hidden vixen-at least that is what it says on the box.
Home movies showed a happy kid-rambunctious,full of joy-the only girl
followed by boy
I never took the easy path-or it never found me. Not once.
But each and every by-way, highway and sidestep I took
provided lessons-they (still) say-not from a book. It has always been this way.
Chasing the whatif’s and why not’s has given way to my here and now-
full of sacrifices and the challenges- the winter of my discontent-on some days-
when the weight of the world sits right there-right there in the slab of my back-always a sore spot.
I’m not that girl that always got what I wanted-but I got what I needed and got what I never thought I wanted-right when I wasn’t looking so I could not shoo it away-far away. Just let me be.
I’ve been the girl who for a long time-looked way over there for something else-for fear of looking anywhere else that would require peeling back the onion layers.
Never self medicated-but met many who did. who do. still.
I’m not that girl-perfectly aligned and bound for the best of the best to complete the picture. I struggle. I wonder about being a mom-a good mom-wonder if I left too soon-stayed too late. One too many creases and cracks where smooth should prevail. But then no.
I am that girl. That girl that- come one obstacle or other-one wrong path or the other-one something or another-made it to this point of knowing. And still not know it all.
The sum total of all my girl parts that got me here-
I can say content. Content.