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Growing up takes time & effort


I outgrew my story. I’ve outgrown my songs and books and path and dream. You outgrow bands and loves, people and cities and that’s okay. I’m learning that part of growing up is learning how to leave things behind that no longer belongs to you. Behaviours and values, but also interests and passions. You might find yourself in an in between phase, where you’re outgrowing your path but still don’t know where to enter your new one. Or you might find yourself having outgrown your passion, without having found a new one. Your dream, it does not belong to you anymore. The butterflies are gone and the glory of the finish-line seems more like a grey cloud, something you no longer aspire to reach. This is okay. The most impactful moments of my life have been the clean ones. The clean streets in the early AM hours—the town is mine to own. The blank pages—no story yet written. The new friendship, the new name, the new two eyes starring into mine and I can be whoever I want from now on. 


Growing up takes time and effort, lessons and heartache, and I am proud to have been documenting my questions and attempt to answers since my teenage years. I created something, a character of sort, but she seemed as real as me and maybe I tried to become like her. Maybe I wanted to be like her. Maybe I tried to live up to the image I drew, the pure unworldly consciousness of ”The Glass Child”. Maybe it was a dream. Someone I aspired to be seen as. Someone I turned to for guidance. ”What would The Glass Child do”. Maybe it was a cape. A costume of magical colors I could hide my shattered identity under, so as not to feel so detached. To not have to explain myself. Who’s Charlotte? Who cares, this is ”The Glass Child”. I felt no responsibility because The Glass Child didn’t have to answer. She just did. Half alive. Half person, half fiction. She thought and felt and wrote and sang but did not live. Maybe it was everything I could never be. Maybe it was everything I ever could be. 


But I am a few miles more travelled. I am a few years wiser. My heart has been running and beating, stopping and fighting and now I find it calm. Beating like a steady clock on the wall, tick / tock, knowing it’s stubborn ways because I tried to fight it for so many years but it kept on beating and now I respect it. I thank it. I respect my people, because I never took care of them. I never kept in touch, only left and took for granted and I’ve been selfish and angry, at everyone and everything because I’ve felt useless and hopeless and I wanted someone’s attention, someone to tell me ”YOU DID IT! I SEE YOU! I ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR STRUGGLE AND PRAISE YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS AND I NO LONGER LOOK DOWN ON YOU”! 


but people have their own stories and no one cares as much as you do. People get bored. I get bored too, of myself and my name and The Glass Child became like the costume I had to wear because I created it and I wore it with pride some days, others with embarrassment. I had to fall into detours. A few rounds back and forth, trying this and failing that. Maybe I could be this and maybe I could do that. I tried many jobs, many careers, many people. Left many interests but explored many too. And all this, all the missteps and years of feeling failed and underaccomplished I can see, now, coming through in my music. My voice has changed. The melodies it creates. The chords that intrigue me. And for the very first time in many many years I write songs that make me feel proud. For simply creating it. I sit back and feel ”this is it. That’s it. This thing. It’s IT”. Maybe I only felt it once before. The very first times I wrote songs, back then, over 10 years ago. I felt that. I created my songs from pure innocence and it made me feel real. Then it went missing but I kept on going but now I feel myself faceless with no expectations because I’m nobody and have no name to live up to and I write songs with eyes closed and I sit back and feel ”this is it”. What’s my name? Band name? Brand name? website? who cares, this is my song. this is how I sound and this is how I look. I can sing it to you, here and now, and I won’t need any effects or a band because this is it and I have a voice. Yes? no? I’ll sing anyway. you can leave if you want to, I’ll be here singing because that’s what I do. now. after all these years. turn the mic off I’ll sing anyway. 


Growing up takes time and effort, but it’s a wonderful journey and I’m proud to have taken on the challenge. I’m embarrassed for things I’ve said. I’m sorry for people I’ve left. But I’m determined to be better. To turn myself into someone good. A woman of integrity. I no longer want to act out of naiveté or anger, I want to live up to this ”The Glass Child” I could never be, but from a new light. A less fictionalised one. I real one. This is me, in every way I can ever be. The Glass Child is in me, I think. She came from me. But there is also a little more here now. Not so empty. A little more ... real. 

I still have hope in who I am becoming.





- Snowfall by Idealism  >>>

- Sappheiros >>>

- Time, It Goes by The Glass Child (moi) >>>


Behind The Glass

with Charlotte Eriksson



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