At some point over the last couple of weeks I started to think about pieces of my personality that seem to have been lost over the years. Bits and pieces which I thought had died off over time, seem to be returning. Slowly poking their heads out from the little padded cells I stowed them in (ya know, for safe keeping), their little voices reminding me that they are still alive, and have been waiting for the chance to safely exist again.
There is one facet I'm concerned about more than any: "The Girl." Though young, she isn't necessarily a child. Though relatively new, she isn't necessarily foolish. But, she is that part of me which likes love, romance, general schmoopyness. The part of me which allows me to reach out and touch someone, the part which allows my heart to flutter over those intimate moments, displays of affection, random sweet acts. The Girly part. Over the weekend, I started to see her try to surface a couple of times. I could hear her sweet voice chiming, "Do you think it's safe yet? Can I come out and enjoy life for a minute? Please?"
The logical, realistic, analytical part of me would tell her, "No, no, no, you have emotions, and you have expectations of love, and I don't know if you ground yourself in reality. Besides, I'm not sure I can remember how to protect you... just stay in your room. Its easier that way."
And she, being somewhat sane and mature (as much as The Girly part of any of us can be), looks with awe and respect at The Realist and says "ok, but I'm going to check again in a few minutes." Of course, The Realist ignores that little comment, and goes on dealing with life in a straightforward way.
So, I consider her, I remember her as one would a long lost friend. I know The Girl is a good part of me, a romantic, lovely, complex part... a part that is healthy and gives The Realist, The Tomboy, The Social Butterfly, and The Spontaneous sides (among others) balance. But, I also remember her as the most sensitive, easily hurt, easily confused part. I put her in her little sound proof padded cell so long ago, I'm afraid she never quite formed callouses over her battle wounds (which were few, and healed quickly). She's soft, and I'm afraid she wouldn't do well in the Real World.
Unfortunately, since I unwittingly unlocked her door a few weeks ago, she's become more and more daring. At first just opening the door, peeking her head out, looking around, and then going back in (door closed). Then later, doing whatever girly stuff she does in there, but leaving the door open, and allowing the sights and sounds of the world to exist in her space without too much of her intrusion on that world.
Now, she's beginning to venture out on occasion, she's becoming a bit more vocal about having some freedom, and some experiences. Even though I've warned her to stay back so she doesn't get any mud spattered on her pretty shoes, she just teases me by taking off the shoes and running around barefoot.
Where did I put that darn key?