Updated: Oct 22, 2019
As a little girl I'd wander through my backyard as though I were an explorer, peeking under fallen leaves for evidence of miniature life. I'd put on my raincoat and boots on a drizzly, spring afternoon and set out to discover families of snails, contently trailing along in their daily quests. The few trees in my yard were a forest to me then, and no matter how many times I'd venture out for new revelations, I'd always come across magic in my pursuit of other worlds.
Summer arrived and I was thirteen, looking in the mirror and counting all the ways I didn't measure up to the girls around me. My journeying through soil and roots was now bypassed with a desire to be seen by others. I no longer looked to the ground and up to growing branches to unravel mysteries, but forgot them all together to seek approval from those who were not like me.
When fall had settled, I felt your hands glide up and down my legs, your warm breath in my ear and your lips everywhere. You tell me you love me with eyes closed and palms sweaty as intensity overrides you. After, I lay my head on your chest and wonder if you meant it.
I come to meet myself in December with the first snowfall of winter. I'm cozied up in our home watching as the grass becomes a white blanket to lay back into. You're sitting in the chair in the corner of the living room and I wait for you to look over at me. You do, but you don't see me. I tell myself that by this time next year, I won't be living here.
It's now somewhere in between seasons and I'm finding my way back to the girl who was mystified by nature, in tune with her surroundings and enamored with her world. She understands her own cycles; she knows when it's time to venture outdoors and the moments when she must retreat within. She knows herself from previous seasons of not knowing herself and doing whatever she could to recapture the woman inside.
I wonder what this next season will bring, the people I'll meet, the cities I'll visit, the different women I'll become. And I hope that I continue in this same way, with welcoming the unknown, seeking alchemy in what's around me, letting others inch closer toward me, and reinventing the person I'm always becoming.
Rhythms and revolutions are the nature of my being. I stand grounded in my ever evolving unfolding.