The Girl I Remember

You are not the Girl I remember

The Girl with a pale face and careless smile

That Girl loved Fall Out Boy and cinnamon sugar waffles

That Girl could never paint her stubby nails,

and wrote out her messy poems IN ALL CAPS

I used to yearn for that Girl's return

decimating fields of dandelions and killing time between 11:11's,

filling endless wishing wells with spare change,

I'd have given anything to have that Girl back.

But that Girl was small.

All that time I didn't see, because I too was small

Yet as I grew, as did the space between us,

I began to understand. How tight the old me felt,

like a favorite t-shirt I'd outgrown but could not part with

I'll store it in my box of keepsakes, cherish it forever,

but it no longer has a place hanging in my closet

This new Woman is not small- she is growing

This Woman has an orange pixie cut, tattoos, and piercings,

and a confidence that defies everything.

This Woman listens to rap, eats vegetarian,

and publishes her writing for the world to see

I used to believe that losing that small Girl was losing a part of myself

But the caterpillar must leave for the butterfly to emerge,

and there must first be ashes for the phoenix to rise from.

Neither of us are the small Girls we once were.

We are Women. We are Growing. We are Becoming.

Old Friend,

I am glad you're not the Girl I remember