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RE: Art Explained by a Writer: Inside a Cottage (1890)
We spend our lives chasing a 'better version' of ourselves but I wonder how many fragments of other people we subconsciously steal to build that image.
Now, after my life has changed so much, my definition of a 'better version' has narrowed down to simply being able to function again. I miss the version of me that wasn't paralyzed by low self-esteem or triggers.
I have more self-awareness now than I ever did then, but I'm still grieving the person I used to be.
I never felt as if I was chasing a better version of myself. I doubt I knew who I was except not the person they told me I was. I still see a stranger in the mirror.
I know as a young child I already had a strong feeling for justice and strong will (character) but that doesn't mean I had a clear picture of myself, the person I was or wanted to be.
Today I can only say that I never blamed myself for what happened, what I've been excused of. It simply doesn't make sense, the words, the accusations.
So what I grieve about most is not missing the me, the person I was, but the fact I never had a childhood, never been young, reckless, able to enjoy life. That I sacrificed my life instead of fighting back and turning the other cheek (another disgusting tip from the bible, never do that).
It sounds to me that you know who you were, if you stop the grieving you find yourself back, hopefully the you that fights and beats back.
Like the Dutch saying says: Wie niet horen wil moet maar voelen.
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