The Stranger In Me

2025-01-04

I sometimes look at myself and wonder who I am. I surprise myself often with the way I react into situations or the way I say things, and I look back and wonder if it was me there. Sometimes it is something outright unpleasant, and I'm completely ashamed of myself. But I also love the times I surprise myself with my own generosity or wisdom, of what I am capable of saying or doing. And then I sit back and wonder about how, after so many decades of knowing myself, of living in my own skin, of having gone through millions of situations, expected and unexpected, I can s...

I sometimes look at myself and wonder who I am.

I surprise myself often with the way I react into situations or the way I say things, and I look back and wonder if it was me there. Sometimes it is something outright unpleasant, and I'm completely ashamed of myself. But I also love the times I surprise myself with my own generosity or wisdom, of what I am capable of saying or doing.

And then I sit back and wonder about how, after so many decades of knowing myself, of living in my own skin, of having gone through millions of situations, expected and unexpected, I can still surprise myself.

And then the vital realization comes - if I am a stranger to myself, then how can I ever expect anybody to understand me?

And that really is a sobering thought, because one of the things which we always struggle with is the question of not being understood by the other.

It is a tragedy of a kind that we are strangers to ourselves, but want complete familiarity from the one we love the most.

If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on the pain of loneliness -