The Me Nobody Knows
We walked through the art gallery,
browsing at paintings and sculptures.
We’re not generally art gallery people,
but this was Maui,
the day was bright,
the ocean breeze was soothing;
browsing at artwork we would never purchase
seemed like the right thing to occupy an afternoon.
A docent joined us,
probably thinking there might be a commission involved.
We felt a little uncomfortable
knowing that wasn’t going to happen,
but she wasn’t pushy so we continued on.
I remember admiring a painting
and saying something like,
βIt speaks to me.β
The docent asked what it said,
so I told her.
In truth, I can’t remember the painting itself
or what I thought it was saying,
but when I was done
the docent took out a card from behind the canvas
and read what the artist had said about their work.
As my British friends would say,
I’d got it in one!
Both the docent and my husband
were surprised by my accuracy.
I wasn’t.
Like I said, it spoke to me.
It doesn’t matter if
we’ve known someone forever
or only just met,
there are parts of us
that no one sees,
not even the people who think they know us best.
They may think they know,
but we all harbor secrets,
sometimes intentionally,
other times because
people don’t pay attention
or bother to ask questions.
It’s easier to take things at face value,
to assume what you see
is who I am.
Conversations about deeper things
than what you find entertaining
on a daily basis don’t come easily.
Exchanging thoughts about
even small things like
the hidden meaning behind a painting
takes an openness and vulnerability
that most don’t want to access.
Exposing what we truly think
about life, death, relationships,
and ourselves
too often feels like
unearthing a golem
that’s been locked in a box
and buried in the back
of an over-stuffed closet.
Once the golem is out,
you may not be able to put it back.
So we walk through the world,
occasionally surprising people
who are content to assume
they know who we really are,
even though we all live with
the me that nobody knows.
~Elise Skidmore Β©2026
Lovely. You might even say this poem speaks to me. π
Thank you so much, Linda. I hope that “me nobody knows” speaks to a lot of people.