A Stranger?

Art, Fashion, Literature

I wondered what it would be like

to meet my younger self.

Would we sit and talk of futures,

share secrets of what’s to come,

trade advice on the things I long to change,

while she, wide-eyed,

asks me about the dreams

we once stitched together in silence?

But then—

a thought struck sharp:

we might not even know each other.

For I had bent myself to fit in,

chiseled away her edges,

until she was a stranger to me—

and I to her.

She, radiant in her certainty,

so in love with her own reflection,

could never imagine becoming

this version of me.