I See You

My heart is wide open, aching just a bit for the woman climbing into a minivan across the parking lot from where I left my car. I didn’t meet her while we were inside, but as I turned the key in my ignition her invisibility catches my eye.

I wonder what happened to her all those years ago? Packing up the best of herself – creavity, passion, and spirit… her most magical parts, she disappeared into the night. Her rounded shoulders pull forward to protect the emptiness in her soul. She longs to feel complete again.

Her feminine simplicity is missing. No liveliness, no certainty, no confidence bubbles from the well I know exists in every one of us. I can only see the weight of the world pulling her eyes to the ground, save a single, lonely scan of the area before closing herself inside.

I see you. I see you and your broken little girl heart trapped in that grown up body. I know that you are trying so hard that it hurts, a lot. I know how you love children, yours and any others who need you to. I know how good you are at your work, how you give it your all. I know how you keep the peace everywhere you go. I know about how you say yes because when you’re helping, it feels like you exist.

I see you.

A long time ago, you packed up all of the beautiful, vulnerable parts of yourself. It was too painful to live in that world as a whole girl, one who thinks and feels. I understand. It was a good idea. It was a brilliant and powerful choice you made, necessary to keep yourself safe.

Now it’s time to do something different… It’s time to be whole again. You can stop trying to fill that emptiness with food or whatever else you use. You can go back for those lost pieces, your magic is still within you. It’s time to reconnect. In this place and this time, it is finally safe for you to be you.

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are solely those of the author and may not reflect those of
Care2, Inc., its employees or advertisers.

Siti R.

3:26AM PDT on Aug 6, 2011

could very well the a case of projection. what the writer feels is probably whom she was or try to o transform out of. the real people who knows yr story are those who help you write it.

send a green star

Jaydee F.

9:59PM PDT on Jun 14, 2011

Thank you....what a lovely, inspiring article.

Lora H.

5:21PM PDT on Jun 14, 2011

Just lovely.

Judith C.

3:56PM PDT on Jun 14, 2011

Wow,Thank you

Faith P.

1:42PM PDT on Jun 14, 2011

beautiful article, thank you

Jade H.

8:43PM PDT on Jun 13, 2011

Monica R - your angry answer to this article is telling. Hope you have a friend to talk this out with. Blessed Be!

Lynn C.

7:09PM PDT on Jun 13, 2011

What a tender, beautifully written article.

Carol H.

7:58AM PDT on Jun 13, 2011

Well, that was just painful.

KS G.

5:09AM PDT on Jun 13, 2011

Thanks for the article.

monica r.

10:43PM PDT on Jun 12, 2011

I could be the person she describes. I walk to my vehicle that way.

I also:
-Have a fulfilling life
-Help others because it's who I am, not to "feel like I exist"
-do love kids
-am good at my job, which is working with kids and I love them too and they do need it
-am pulled down by the weight of the world at times yet have NOT "packed up" my optimism or my faith
-hate conflict
-DO have a broken "little girl heart" in my past but so do you or why did you bring it up? Didn't you ever heal from your childhood heartbreak? Sad for you but don't assume I'm stuck there too.

Thank you for writing a piece that I can identify with that makes it sound like this life of mine, such as it is, is pathetic and somehow lacking. Thank you for implying that because I'm not whatever you think I should be, and may feel lonely on occasion, I suck or am doing it wrong, or actually AM alone (I'm not). Just cause I'm not acting perky or bubbly enough for you as I walk across the parking lot.....doesn't mean I'm not being fully and genuinely ME. If I take a break from writing or illustrating to get groceries or do laundry, that is not "burying my creativity and passion", but it also IS doing necessary chore-type tasks I don't especially enjoy, which may be why I look down-trodden to you. It doesn't mean I feel invisible.

Does thinking snobbish thoughts about a total stranger make YOU feel visible? Valid?

And anyway, it's my MOM's minivan. My car was in the shop that day.