Saturday, 24 September 2011

Remembering Me

I’ve forgotten who I am.
Has this happened to you? You won’t know you’ve forgotten until you remember. It’s a strange feeling, a bit like deja vu, a moment of weirdness but also huge joy. It brought a smile to my face.
I was sitting alone on the top of a hill looking across to the River Severn after a brief, but brisk, hike when it all came back to me. I could picture the twenty-something woman, walking for miles to get away from the city smoke and clear the hangover. With a good-looking man in tow and a bottle of wine warming in the ruck sack.
For a few minutes I sat there and felt happy as I remembered the forgotten me. A different kind of happy to how I feel most of the time, but happy all the same. So I texted my husband with a picture of view and the words ‘I love you’ – something I never text. He texted the same thing back (which was more of a shock), I think he understood the moment.
Like many women (maybe even some men) I’ve given myself away. To my husband, my work, my friends even, but mostly to my kids. So much so that I don’t even remember what I like. I’m a stranger to myself and I can only remember the me who exists to exist for others.
But I found it on that hill for a very brief moment and it felt really good. I'm going looking for me again soon.
As I write this, a group of my oldest friends are out reliving their Hacienda youth in a nightclub somewhere. I hope they get this feeling tonight and I think they will. I wish I could be there.
What i'm trying to say is, if you think you’ve lost you, don’t worry because you're still there somewhere. You may be cowering timidly at the back of the room, too afraid to come out, but you will. And when it happens it'll feel really good :)