I love this poem by one of our WomenBloomers, Olive Sullivan.  I can totally relate to her words about once defining myself through who and what I wasn’t.  And, don't all of us identify with different music at different times of our lives?  But, true to the experience Olive describes, somewhere in midlife I finally have a better handle on who and what I am.  Much more comfortable, not to mention positive, don’t you think?

Not finished, like you I’m still becoming, but I’m well into “I am” territory.  

Who needs Haydn? What do
violins and woodwinds,
Scarilaggci and Boyce have to do with
Me?
I am all about the angry woman songs --
Alanis Morrisette's jagged lyrics,
Shawn Colvin setting the world on fire,
uppity blues women with their young, young men.
Staid I am not.
Classical I am not.
Demure I am not.
I am not.

Am I losing myself to you, or
am I no longer someone who must
rage and battle against the world,
rage through rapids on the river of song?
Lately the Baroque has been taking shape in my mind, the harpsichord and trumpet soothing down the jagged parts. Violins don't seem quite so insipid.
Could it be, after all these years,
this is who I am becoming?

To define myself in the negative --
to oppose -- to feed my anger --
the way rage fueled me
in the days when every edge was jagged,
every word a curse --
can I now set aside that mask?

Now, at last, at middle age,
is it all right to settle back and smile, to say instead, I am. I am. I am.

Olive L. Sullivan is a freelance writer, editor, and poet living in Pittsburg, Kan., in a happily empty nest (except for the two big dogs). The most surprising things that have happened to her in the past year are that she became a grandmother, and that she fell in love. Who knew midlife could be so much fun? Contact Olive at This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it , or check out her blog at http://www.magpiesjoy.blogspot.com.

LIST OF COMMENTS