Walking home from the market, with my bag of yogurt, strawberries, and coconut milk, I watched my shadow follow me. The light illuminated my back and as I crossed the street, I saw her with her head held high.

The elongated black caste of her lean figure. Her hair swayed back and forth, and you could see the outline of her headphones as she listened to intense classical music, like the soundtrack to her life.

Who is she, with her confidence and vibrant energy? Have I met her before? She seems familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on when. Oh right, she’s me.

There she is, my shadow, a remnant of who I once was. She held her head high with anger, and uncertainty. I can’t say I miss her. Who she became, and is becoming, on the other hand, now that’s someone I want to meet.