Someone was talking about another person noticing that she had been an exuberant talkative lovely person and for whatever reason has been apologizing all the time and been dampened down.
It struck me to the point that now alone thinking about it, I feel like crying. Sometimes I see a photo of myself very young, like 7 or so and wonder what happened to that creature. Or look back at how I was in college. I was “crazy” and sometimes very depressed but also free and being whoever I was some of the time, someone who had weird ideas about things and said extreme stuff that did or didn’t make sense and dressed uniquely and loved making outfits and hanging out with really fascinating great people, sometimes intimidated and thinking I don’t belong, I’m not smart enough or whatever. Was I maybe a more true version of myself? I was a fun weirdo, up for weird adventures, into strange things, excited about weird stuff. I was an excited person, while being an introvert. I was like a kid bouncing up and down with pure energy and wanting to jump off cliff
Swimming in the lake a few weeks ago, I was saying how happy I was and my kid said something about me most of the time not being happy or something like that. I remember because I was full of joy and what she said broke my heart. How have I become this person who mostly seems to have no joy to express? How have I let myself become someone my child sees as not happy?
I’m thinking of the Smiths’ lyric: There is a light and it never goes out. There is a light and it never goes out. Thereis a light and it never goes out.