Mirrors and Smoke-Screens
The perfectionist.
The controller.
The self-sabotager shadow sister.
What is she afraid of?
She’s afraid of being seen as less-than,
being judged by the eyes of others as not enough, so she gets there first.
She’s in before the jury,
corporal punishment–
for the fear of imperfection,
self-criticism,
infection
flaring up her nervous system.
“You can’t hurt me,
because I’ll get there first.”
Standards sky high,
so that no one can poke holes in my faulty Self,
…except me,
As I poke at my fat thighs
and rolls, and swear I won’t eat.
Just as I swear,
I will meet
all these deadlines…
feel my muscles tense
as I smile and nod,
internal screams,
nightmares and bad dreams,
subconscious fears seeping,
into my reality.
But I hold her, this shadow sister inside of me,
I leave my heart and soul to her,
she takes over me.
She seeks control of everything.
can’t relax,
can’t let go,
Always,
busy busy busy,
needing to achieve,
because she can’t receive
love from herself.
She can’t see
that she’s destroying her own peace,
trying to create a dream,
where she is finally seen,
acceptance over her own needs.
She lives inside everyone,
the dark forgotten Queen,
Comparing you to magazines
and movie screens.
Always measuring,
you come out defeated.
Where did she come from?
Was she created by society?
All I know
is she is an intimate part of me.
She fears her own
feelings of inadequacy
masochistic struggles
to be
anyone else,
anywhere else
except me.
In the words of Missy Higgins–
“A triangle tried to squeeze through a circle,
she tried to cut me so I’d fit.”
She hates my human failings,
blotches,
bruises,
and cracks at my seems,
so she weighs me down
with self-sabotage,
blocks me up with
confusions and delusions,
impulsions,
distracting and destructing
me to keep me running
from the truth of her actions.
Lost behind mirrors and smoke-screens.
So scared of failing,
she knows she’ll never be good enough
so she’ll let you self-destruct
before she’ll allow you to start.
Avoidance and procrastination
to prove to herself
the truth of your imperfections,
your failings.
A cyclical prophecy of
Failing to be Free.
But I shrug off her chains,
I see the insanity
so clearly now,
for she is within me,
And the only way
to overcome her foul play,
is to integrate her deeply.
For she is truly scared and crying to be seen.
The wound is the place where the light enters,
and I have ended this warring now,
with radical self-acceptance.
Love is all there is.
For more self-study, The Urban Howl recommends Tears to Triumph: The Spiritual Journey from Suffering to Enlightenment
Sip a little more:
Longing For Connection But Stuck In My Mind & Standing In Word Vomit
. . .
This is amazing. Fits perfect. Thank you
Thank you, Hanna, for putting into poetry the cause – and the cure – for my lifetime of suffering with a less-than mindset. You are a voice for ALL people who just want to be their best selves. Bless you.