Where is the little girl who would wear hot pink and sequin-covered shoes to school each day? The sparkly little girl who would run around laughing and screaming with her friends.
She’s gone now, and what’s left is an empty vessel.
A vessel that was thrown on the ground and sealed back together with whatever she could find. It’s covered in missing pieces, gaps, scratches, and chips, yet everyone tells her how beautiful and how strong she is.
The empty vessel that’s left is nothing more than a lopsided, ugly mess of pieces. Everyone around her seems to be poking the fragile parts of the vessel; unintentionally or intentionally, it doesn’t matter to her—the vessel will still break either way.
She holds her breath around everything and everyone to make sure the fragile vessel that’s left behind and barely holding up doesn’t crumble—often avoiding the dangerous tasks that could cause an empty vessel like this to shatter again.
An empty vessel such as this one isn’t alone, and she knows that. But why should that make her feel any better? Other girls who were just like her were crumbling too.
Where is that sparkly little girl? The one who didn’t care for others’ opinions and did what she wanted to. What happened to make that bright little girl disappear?
Where was that sparkly little girl?
The unnecessary weight she decided to take on is only causing the cracks to form again. The cracks she tried so hard to hide and pretend weren’t there—the gaps that are letting the liquid spill out once again. She can’t do anything about them; she’s helpless.
The expectations to be a perfectly working vessel are unbearable, and she is scrambling to pick up the falling pieces before it’s too late. Before her empty vessel is just shattered pieces and dust on the floor; she’s trying her best to stay afloat.
All she can see around her are these beautiful vessels of women—they are successful and most certainly not crumbling like hers. Compared to the other vessels, she’s nothing more than a failure and a jumbled mess.
She wants nothing more than to be that sparkly little girl with her sequin shoes and brightly colored clothes.
Sometimes, she feels as though she can never go back to her sparkly, bright self again and will forever be this jumbled mess of pieces. She is crumbling again, but somehow, she finds a way to stick herself back together before her empty vessel is nothing more than a dust pile on the ground.
Will that sparkly girl ever come back and fill the empty vessel? Where did she go? What happened to her? What caused that spunky girl to become a broken empty mess?
I want nothing more than to be that little girl again.
