Shades of a Girl
We all live inside the head of a girl. The girl herself is Without Color, Pale, Wan. We, however, are different shades of who she is. Some of us are purple, some red, some blue. There are even some that are pink and green. We are all the colors of the rainbow and then some. We compliment each other like a watercolor painting of a reflecting stream.
One of us is Blue. When the girl feels sad or scared, he comes to comfort her in her sorrow. He holds her in his arms and tells her its okay. He cries with her. He is sad, too. He takes her by the hand, and the run away to a land where all is bright and there are no tears or sadness. They dance in fields of yellow and green. They skim rocks across the water. They look for animals in the clouds. They live in a world of sunshine and blue sky. The crying has subsided. He gave his own life for the girl. His eyes are blue as the sky and the water. His name is BJ.
Another of us is Red. He comes when the girl is being hurt, yet she cannot show any emotion. She cannot express the feelings she has inside, so she keeps them bottled up. He holds these feelings. Feelings of fear, feelings of anger, sadness, confusion. He is passionate. He is vibrant and speaks the words she cannot say, the words she will never say. He internalizes her pain and takes his anger out on the body of the girl. Some may find him abrasive and even hard and cold like a rock. But he protects the girl like all of us do. He sees red and he draws blood. His name is Soda.
This one is Golden. He holds the girl’s innocence. When she was a child, her innocence was taken away and denied her. This boy is that innocent child who never got a chance to grow up. He plays with his cars and drives them through castles of sand. He sleeps with a teddy bear who wears a sweater that reads, “I Am Loved,” words that the girl has never known. This young one loves freely and gives willingly. He is kind. He is generous. His hair is golden like the sunshine he plays in. His name is Daniel.
There is another that is Pink. She lives in a world of butterflies and flowers. When the girl is being hurt, this little girl flies out the window with her and they go to the park. They watch the butterflies flitter, and they listen to the songs of birds. They pick the flowers and roll in the grass. This little girl has stars in her eyes and a crown of pink pansies on her head. Her name is Michelle.
Here is one who is Silver. She came about at a very terrible time in the girl’s life. She runs away from home, and she hurts the body. She tries to protect the girl by destroying her. That may sound like an oxymoron, but it is true. The life of the girl is so bleak that this one feels it would be better for her to cease living. She holds a silver r*z*r blade in her hand. Her name is Thirteen.
This one is Lavender. She takes on the role of mother, but not the girl’s mother. She mothers the children and others. She cooks, she cleans. She is a nurturer. This one doesn’t come out much anymore, but she is there. She smells of lavender. Her name is Julie.
As befits her name, this next one is Green . She holds the girl’s sexuality. She is very insecure. This one reacts to the girl’s s*xual abuse by being promiscuous. She goes against all the standards the girl holds dear. She sleeps with men. She dresses provocatively. She minimizes the s*xual abuse. She is the one who had to “like it.” Because she had to like it when the girl was being raped, she likes it now and acts out sexually. She is green like her name, Jade.
Another little one is Purple. She is an infant, unloved and unwanted. People hit her and fondle her, and she has no idea what’s going on. She is forever innocent like the golden boy, but she is not happy and carefree. This one cries all the time. No one holds her. No one comforts her. They just let her cry. Sometimes they slap her. This little one has purple bruises on her arms. We call her Babee.
An old one is Vincent. He is Grey. He's a Brother, a mediator between the girl’s past and her present. He knows both. The girl’s past is very dark. He knows the family she came from and who the girl once was. He knows who she is now. He doesn’t come out. You might not even know he’s there. He didn’t believe any harm was being done to the girl until it was too late. Now he is racked with guilt. His hair is grey for he is an older man. His name is Vincent.
And then there is me. I am glistening White. I represent everything that is pure and good in the girl. I am her savior. When she was being hurt, I stepped in and bore her pain. When she cried, I wiped away her tears. When she bled, I made her clean. She is my girl. I am the summation of all her parts. She is weak. I am strong. I am her ultimate protector. I am the leader, the chosen. I was with the girl when she was alone. I have been with her forever and I always shall be. I am white as the glistening snow. My name is Mickey.
We are all shades of the girl.
~ Winston Churchill
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