Blue-grey eyes, jeans that probably did not fit quite right, and a black hooded sweatshirt
Her skin was laced with cucumber, feet that could never stay clean
Her long red hair was unruly and frizzy
But she wore flowers in her hair
It was the summer of 2014, and I was slowly becoming thoroughly enchanted with the state of Washington. At night time, I danced under the stars to Coldplay. During the daytime, I stood in the water, tide rolling back in, and everything was still. Everything poetic was felt, and the world was exciting and quietly beautiful. We laughed, darting around like minnows.There was the bird, the dojo, the perch, and the teddy bear, and gross gooey ducks.
No doubt about it, the individuals that I was surrounded with were and still are some of the best humans that I know, but this part of the story is about the girl in 2014.
This girl was sometimes unapologetic and quite often quirky.
She allowed her voice to be heard and was learning how to stretch her wings.
Above all, she was fearless.
Since then, times have changed. This girl now has short hair, and life has changed her. She is relearning how to be spontaneous, how to be unafraid, and how to speak up and stand up.
There is a piece of her that is now softer. She knows how to quietly listen and absorb, imperfectly, but by far, better than she ever had before. This girl wears socks more, but has learned how to laugh harder and louder. She is not afraid to stare at the grey, but she is more afraid to stand up to the black and white. This girl knows how to apologize, yet sometimes her voice still shakes.
Though so many of these changes are good and beautiful things, sometimes I miss the 2014 girl, but I am learning to find her in the 2016 girl.
The 2016 girl promised herself that she was going to be more brave, hence she found herself on adventures to see old friends, standing up and beside her LGTBQ family, kissing dark haired boys on the cheek, and dancing to Coldplay with young parents. She learned how to be alone and realized she still loved people out loud.
The 2014 girl is melting into the 2016 girl, and it is a good thing. I see her when she is sipping a cup of apple tea, listening to an odd song or becoming heartbroken at the sight of misogyonistic behaviors. Yet, the 2016 girl is more ready to listen and less likely to sacrifice love for the opportunity to be right.
This year, she has short hair and a distain for dresses, but perhaps next year, she will have a little bit more fire in her eyes. I hope that she continues to learn how to be both soft and loud. And, yes, I hope she finds lots of wildflowers for her hair.
