Her pace

They never see her
even when she tries hard to be
like them, making the same mistakes,
losing herself in a total lack of originality
and mediocrity.
They are the significant others,
the broken mirror where she constructs
the view of her squeezed self.

Sometimes she laughs with them,
drinking what she doesn't like,
wearing what she hates just
to feel less inhumane and anxious.
It is an unconscious trajectory,
a strange path dangling between
shyness and self-esteem.

She needs time to comprehend
her own magnificence.

How difficult it to find ourselves
in ourselves! I was like her too
and you were like her years ago.
Everybody plays " They like me,
They like me not".

Life, whether you believe or not
is always a matter of becoming.

Karla Bardanza