somebody else
the fear of being replaced
this unknown shape of you
that’s somehow always better,
smarter,
hotter,
coming to take your place,
your job,
your partner
I’ve been so afraid of encountering her
but it’s been years and I’m still here
and somebody else
has never come.
elleguyence 
I’m torn between two very contrasting interpretations of this poem rooted in the same fundamental conflict.
On the one hand, I hear a woman in crippling fear of being overshadowed by her own lack of confidence, of being overshadowed by someone superior, who threatens at any moment to usurp her lot in life…
And on the other hand, I hear a woman in crippling fear of being trapped by her own lack of confidence, as if the very thought of bettering herself, of growing and becoming someone new, someone greater, is enough to root her in place for years of her life, stagnating, going nowhere, becoming no one new, no one special.
My heart goes out to this woman who wallows in the exile of self-deprecation. I know this woman well, for we are one and the same. May we be kind to ourselves in our moments of suffering.
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Thank you for such a thoughtful comment. Certainly to address imposter syndrome, I love your interpretations. Thank you!
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Reblogged this on davidbruceblog #2.
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Awesome post, My Dear!!! So beautifully penned! Anxiety seems to be something we all face but some have learned to conquer it better than others! I think anxiety is the reason for the old quote – “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it”! Wait for that “something” to happen and then deal with it. That washes away most of life’s anxieties. Bellissimo!!
xoxoxo
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Thank you!! Always love hearing your thoughts. 🙂
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😀👍
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I was just talking to someone about symbolism in “Us” and I pointed out the doppelgängers are probably Imposter Syndrome.
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fuego!
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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And you keep morphing into her while waiting for her to show up!
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Exactly!
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Long time elle. Nice post
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Thanks, old friend!
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You are welcome elle
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When Annie the anxiety came into my life, its as if she wants to suck the days out of me. The thing is I worried all of that Annie kept me by her bedside caged me in the days into years that could have been. No, I left Annie and I replaced all of my insecurities with 2 intangible objects: sky above me and the earth I walk on. At least I am being cared for as I can worry not. Your piece gives a love of all regretful state of anxiety that never dies.
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This is sweet. Even the title of the poem, 81, although made from a different context, adds the dimension of counting. As if you are counting the months and still yet to meet her. . . hope you never do! 😀
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I read something once that helped me with worrying too much. It said whatever you’re worried about, imagine the worst that could happen; then come up with a plan of what you will do if that happens and then forget about it.
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Love this! Thanks for sharing
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Hey Elle, just popped by to say thanks for liking my recent post ‘The Game of Chess’
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Excellent!
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