Thursday, 6 March 2014

A hug to my younger self

The other day I have been looking through my old diaries from the early 1990s, which my Mum rescued and brought to me. I was looking for the entries related to meeting my husband-to-be. What I found, somehow has shaken and startled me, as I came across some earlier writings, which brought back some painful memories.
This was before I met my future husband and related to someone my heart was aching for.
In these twenty-odd years a lot has happened: my romance, marriage, move to the States and back, birth of my sons, death of my Dad, depression, joys and tragedies... in one word, life happened.
Reading my old dairy almost dismayed me, I forgot how passionate I used to be.

"My love to you is the focus of all my life, you're the flame which burns from inside, which melts the lead, and at the same time (it) is the divine light which gives life. You are two elements: life and death, heavenly purity and the abyss. I either fly high into the air, soaring above the human accumulation of the everyday banality, or fall into the abyss, dropping all the way down, and there is nothing to hold onto, and this fall is eternal. And  as cruel as your silence.
But I accept it as a fact. Even earlier you disappeared for long periods of time, but before I took it easier, while now I worship you and accept your cruelty as the manifestation of the superior will. Through humiliation and broken pride, everyday slaps of the empty post box, to the grander purity of feelings and inner burning. Or is it not so?"

Reading that, I feel like screaming: no, it isn't, what are you talking about, girl?! No man is worth worshiping. The reference to the "superior will" makes my hackles rise in indignation.

Little did I know then that a boy I was so much pining about, wasn't the one for me. He was a drifter then, he needed a strong steady mature woman with her feet firmly on the ground to keep him and turn him into a family man. I wasn't that woman. I was a jittery creature, highly strung, too sensitive and naive. As a friend of my parents used to call me, "a girl (made) of porcelain" because he could sense my vulnerability. I am now almost as old as my Mum at that time. Hopefully wiser and more sensible with age.
Reading those lines makes my heart go to her, that tormented girl. I wish I could give her a hug and tell her: You just wait! Very soon you will meet your husband-to-be. Your world will change. You will never forget your old flame, but your feelings will first lose their edge, then change into an understanding, later become a distant memory, something you will cherish but will be able to smile about.

 When you look back, do you wish you could give a hug to your younger self?

I am still not sure whether I should have written this very personal post, but for the time being it is here.
Being very nosey curious, I would love to know if sometimes you'd like to give a hug to your younger self? Tagging my friends Cheryl, Leta, Jo, Sarah, AlisonJaime and Sonya.


  1. Aww this is so poignant, full of teenage despair and then the move towards happiness. I read old poetry of mine and see the angst about the one true love and now I am with that person, how foolish I was to have put that much energy into longing for somebody who clearly was not 'the one'. If we could see into the future only the good things, though, I still thing that angst we felt then would burden us. I think its part of growing up. I am glad you wrote this post, I am not ready to do that at the moment, but glad you tagged me. My teen years were fraught with Mum issues and as she just died I am struggling with them, in some ways maybe I need a hug now from my older self.

    1. Aww Jo, thank you for your lovely comment! I appreciate that you're not ready to write anything of this kind right now. If I could stretch my arms all the way to you now, I would give you a big hug, pass the tissues and offer lots of tea and cake.

  2. I too have some teenage diaries knocking about somewhere, full of similar declarations of love for unsuitable boys! In terms of giving a hug to my younger self, I actually can in many ways- my daughter is seventeen, and loves boys in bands in much the same way I did- so I can try and pass on advice- not that she will be listening! Some lessons you have to learn yourself perhaps! This is a lovely post, thank you for tagging me- I shall give it some thought and attempt to have something in response next week xx

    1. Thank you Sonya! Would love to read your post, if you have a chance to do it.