Losing Your Younger Self
A self-written poem and a dissection of it, grieving the reality of facing your inner child versus you now.
Graphic by CJ Martires
Unfazed Sunrises
I’d like to get to know you
But I’m so intimidated
Your gaze daunts me
I could never be you
Growing older doesn’t faze me anymore
Just that part where I start forgetting everything
-cjm
This piece is actually from mid-2021. Four years ago, and it still hurts my soul.
Sometimes I read through past writings of mine — whether that be journal entries, poems, or word vomits — it always ends up being such a painful yet awakening experience.
Like shit. I wrote that? I can still feel those feelings as if I were writing it at that exact moment. Anyways.
Feeling my younger self hurt so badly makes me want to hold her hand tight, look straight into her eyes, and say, “Some days may get better, but many days may not. Don’t worry too hard, you’ll turn out more than okay.”
But another part of me feels so disconnected and upset with myself. How dare I even hurt younger me like that? You would never put a child through what you went through now, so why do it to yourself?
Feeling disconnected from your younger self, as if they’re an entirely different person, separate from you, is an unwavering experience. I feel as if I’m two distinct entities.
I’d like to get to know you
But I’m so intimidated
Your gaze daunts me
These opening lines are essentially my younger self talking to my older self right now. Younger me would probably (definitely) be highly terrified, yet in awe of older me.
I remember as a child seeing adults of different ages in public and thinking to myself, “Wow, they seem so cool. I hope to be some version or carry various characteristics like them when I grow up.” I’m imagining baby me seeing older me as an entirely separate person. She seems so smart, so fashionable, and so interesting. Yet, I can’t even look her in the eye. She seems unattainable. Unfathomable. She seems like she wouldn’t bother to get to know me.
Does this prove to younger me that I became everything I wanted to be as a 25-year-old in life? Or does this prove to her she remains the same? Nothing seems right about it.
I could never be you…
Younger me could never imagine being older me- yet even making it that far in life, living and breathing. I could never be her. But I’m stuck as her. It feels like defeat.
Growing older doesn’t faze me anymore
Just that part where I start forgetting everything
As younger me starts to realize the reality of growing up, she feels it’s mundane now. It no longer fazes her. Living in disconnection with her past selves is the reality of her life. Disconnection of her memories, disconnection of thoughts, and disconnection of her mind and body.
Younger me isn’t awestruck by older me anymore. The only thing that scares her now is losing hindsight of it all. Losing the warm feeling she used to know so well, of jumping into her dad’s arms as he came home from a long day of work. Losing the feeling of excitement and fondness of sleepovers at her elementary school best friend’s backyard trampoline. Losing the feeling of imagination as she wants to be an illustrator when she grows up. Losing herself to her own self.