The Shadow That Follows Me Still

When I was a girl with ribboned dreams, I saw myself on TV screens. A mic in hand, a voice so clear, Telling stories the world would hear. I loved the sound of words I spoke— Not for praise, or selfish hope, But because each word I dared to say Meant I was real, in some small way. But life, it shifts like winds at sea, And dreams drift far from what they seem. I didn’t stand where anchors shine; Another road became mine. In campus halls where young hearts burn, A civic space—a chance to learn. Voices flying, full of fire, Debates like storms, opinions higher. I raised my hand with steady grace, Then panic came to take its place. My voice shook, my breath grew thin, I battled fear that screamed within. And though I spoke, the shame ran deep— It followed me into my sleep. I wondered why the fear felt loud— Why being heard now felt like doubt. Then back I went, through memory’s door, To school days I had felt before: I loved to speak, to dream, to lead— But every answer came with need. They mocked me when I knew too much, Called me names for rising up. "Pick me girl," they'd hiss and jeer, Till I learned silence hides the fear. So I grew quiet, watched the wall, Avoided crowds, avoided calls. Tiptoed halls with cautious care, Hid the spark I used to wear. By A-levels, I’d disappeared— A ghost that walked, a girl unclear. And even then, I heard them say, “She thinks she’s better, anyway.” All I wanted was to shine, To make my mother proud in time. But photos fade from those long years, And memories blur with silent tears. When uni came, I made my choice— No cameras now, no lifted voice. Mass Comm, I feared, would pull me in, So I stayed safe, I stayed within. But that forum sparked a quiet light, And so I signed up overnight— A small training, just a test, To see if maybe I could still be my best. They said I had a gift to give, A voice that made the stories live. For a while, I held that dream again, Until fear called me back, like a friend. I moved behind the scenes once more, Telling tales I didn’t store. Framing others, hiding mine— It felt easier, felt just fine. Now I work where young hearts rise, Where girls still reach for bigger skies. And when they speak with heads held high, I see the me I left behind. They’re bold, unshaken, full of flame, And sometimes, they call out my name— “I want to be like you one day.” I smile, but don't know what to say. For they remind me of my truth, The dream I lost inside my youth. Each time they speak, I heal a part Of what I buried in my heart. Though shadows still may pull me back, I walk ahead, stay on the track. For that young girl who dreamed so wide, For every tear she had to hide. And yes— I still want to be heard. Even now. Even when it hurts.