See the girl in the photo? That's me. I was four, impersonating my mother.
Now, at 30, although generally content, sometimes I still feel like I'm impersonating.
Impersonating the person I want to be.
I must appear to be a woman who’s really got it together.
At least to people who don’t know me very well.
But, now that I think about it, does anyone really know me inside and out? Sometimes I wonder even if I know myself.
But I never let my vulnerability see the light of day.
I brood when I cook, clean, wash, write, play.
At night I cry.
In the morning I awake as though life is perfect.
In the presence of others I am envied. But I envy others.
I wish I could see myself through the eyes of a stranger, or an aquaintence I merely share a glass of wine with at a bar occasionally perhaps? What do they see in me that makes them want to talk to me?
Is it just me who thinks and feels like this?
Or do other people assume a front exuding with confidence as well?
If it is just me, then when, and how does the confident metamorphosis occur within?