Back in time
I was listening to the radio this afternoon and Time, by Pink Floyd started to flood the airways. As this happened my mind was transported back, to when I was at University, lying on a small bed, in a large room, in Leeds.
Who was that girl back then? Not one who was ready for babies, one who wanted a career, not one who necessarily wanted to settle down, but ended up getting married at twenty-two. A girl who would turn her hand to anything that she was challenged to do; that fought real fires; trained fifteen hours a week (at least); partied till all hours; climbed buildings to get to roofs; sat in darkened rooms, with only candle light; refereed five a side football matches; worked until five o’clock in the morning; went to the cinema lots; cooked whatever her friends brought her; and in her own way tried to live life as hard as she could. Though not always universally liked (who is), trying to learn how to say no (which I’m only just getting better at now) and yet, fumbling through life, trying to understand what it all means (still have no answers).
Wow I haven’t thought of that time in my life for a while, I wonder what my then me would say to my now me? Haven’t you got fat, probably. And what would I tell the then me? That’s easy, I would tell her to open her heart; share what was going on in her head, don’t keep it all in; that asking for help is not a sign of weakness; that you will be loved, for who you are; that there is more than one road you can follow; that you make yourself happy no one else; that you don’t need anyone else, but it’s nicer to be part of a team. I could go on and on and on, but she needed to find out for herself.
Big love to that past me, she was fragile yet thought she was strong.