Becoming Me
When I was married, I ceased to be.
A mother , a wife, a lover I became.
I lived a life where I no longer knew my name.
It wasn't too long before I forgot me.
My existence revolved around his life.
I forgot what I used to like, used to be,
But I loved him and thought I was happy, you see,
And I was no longer me. I was only his wife.
When he decided that we'd grown apart,
I was wounded, was hurt, scared and afraid.
It was now gone, this life that we'd made.
And though I didn't want to, I made a fresh start.
I could now walk barefoot and read in bed at night.
I worked on my crafts on the kitchen table.
With nobody to annoy, now I was able.
And then...oh then..I remembered I could write.
The next thing I did was to change my name.
I wasn't his wife now, nor even his friend.
That temporary identity had come to an end.
Now I was free, into my own I came.
Once I realized that I was just me
And didn't need someone else to make me whole, then,
At the age of thirty-nine is finally when
I realized how happy I was being me.
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