I used to be someone else.
But didn't everyone, really? People change. Things happen. Your clothes change, your hair, your taste in reading and music and even friends, sometimes. You can't remain the same forever.
I used to wear Doc Martens and ripped jeans. A leather jacket. I used to wear earrings like this in the three holes in one ear. I used to dye my hair black or red. I used to wear band t-shirts almost exclusively. (Ah, Metallica t-shirts, where did you go? Even though I don't really listen to them any more, I'd still like to see you one more time.)
The thing that makes me sad is that I don't even know when I stopped, or why. I can tell you when and why I stopped wearing makeup - and roughly when I started to again, albeit only occasionally. I can tell you when (near enough) and why I cut my hair really short (and nearly made my mum cry). I can tell you when and why I went veggie, when and why I stopped eating dairy (although noone ever really understands so I'd rather not get into it right now, thank you).
But when and why I stopped being that girl? I haven't got a clue.
It started to come back about three years back. I started going to see bands again. Got some band t-shirts. Started to dye my hair red again. But...
I still wasn't the same me. The old me.
But then. Eighteen months or so back I got back in touch with an old, old friend. One I haven't seen in years, who I've known since I was 16, or thereabouts (...so quite a while ago). She has cool parents, who have good taste in music and are pretty laid-back - but I introduced her to a certain band (who we both still obsess over now) and through that she ended up with her now-husband. And she still wears docs, and when she's not at work she still wears goth-inspired clothing, although I would class her (like I did myself back in the day) a "too-happy-to-be-a-goth".
We hadn't been in touch for years, before I saw her outside the Manchester Apollo after watching that certain band in 2007. I'd suspected she might be there, and I suddenly realised how horribly much I missed her. We got back in touch; we've met up a few times since then. It's good to see her again.
And then she and I (and her husband) went to see that certain band last Tuesday. And in preparation I put on a DVD last Sunday. And suddenly - quite, quite unexpectedly - I was throwing myself round my living room. And moshing.
I haven't moshed in years. Let alone at home on my own in the middle of a Sunday afternoon.
I was so excited to go and see the band. I was standing - two people back from the barrier by halfway through, and I stayed there til the bitter end. They were amazing. Excellent. Awe-inspiring. I was bouncing up and down on the way back to the car. My friend and I obsessed (mostly about Trent) all the way back to hers, where I stayed before coming back home on Wednesday morning.
I feel like I've suddenly rediscovered who I really am. I'm using all three of those holes in my ears again. I want some boots again. I even went to Kathmandu today. It's not that I want to reject everything I've done over the past few years - I can wear heels now, I can wear makeup or leave it off; I'm doing quite well for myself, really - but I need to incorporate the two together. I need to be me, again.
I'm quite happy with hole-free jeans though. Some things really are better left behind.