Just A Girl

For so long, all I have wanted to be is just a girl.

A girl, without pressure, without pretence, without purpose.

I have wanted to be a blank canvas,

a lump of clay.

Plain, malleable, whole.

Instead I have been Michelangelo’s unfinished work

brilliant, bright, beautiful

but incomplete

and drowning in imperfection in my strife for perfection.

I am not whole

I am not complete

I am bruised and broken by expectation and pressure

by those put on me

and those I put on myself.

At last I see a chance for me

to just be me.

Just a girl.

Plain, malleable, whole.

This is a time of purposelessness and no pretence

and yet I feel

my purpose and the pressure more than ever.

Now I understand

to be just a girl

is to be brilliant, bright, beautiful.

To be just a girl

is to be bruised and broken

and no one person is ever truly complete.

There is always some tomorrow

some unreachable finish line

and something more to achieve.

For now, I must remember

that I am just a girl

and just a girl

is enough.

Photo by Georgia Hunt

Categories: Poetry

KES

Philosophy grad
Trainee teacher
Very occasional writer

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