“The Strange Girl” — A Reflection on The Perfect Girl
- Karen Di Gloria
- Oct 30
- 3 min read
(for the season of unveiling)
There are songs that haunt you because they once mirrored who you were — and then, years later, they echo back who you’ve become. The Perfect Girl by Mareux was once that mirror for me. I used to hear it through the ears of the misunderstood — the “strange girl” who longed to fit somewhere, anywhere. Now, I hear it as a requiem for the masks I’ve shed. This is my reflection — then and now — a story of the healer who forgot herself, the empath who fell in love with saving others, and the woman who finally turned toward her own reflection… and fell in love with the strange girl within.
“You’re such a strange girl, I think you come from another world…”
Then, I wore strange like an invisible crown —
a shimmer only those attuned to other frequencies could see.
They called me rare, intriguing,
“one in a million,” an anomaly,
weird — but in that fascinated way
that makes people lean closer just to feel your fire
without ever daring to hold it.
“You’re such a strange girl, I really don’t understand a word…”
I was safe behind my difference.
It gave me a name,
a shape that kept the world guessing.
I let them see my mind —
the parts that rejected the game.
My disregard for politics.
My distrust of the white-coat gospel.
My voice rising against the pharmaceutical prophets
and their pills for every ache of the soul.
My heartbreak for the Earth
as her food, her soil, her seed
were hijacked and genetically betrayed.
These were the truths I could safely speak —the rebellions that kept me righteous,
the flames that masked my fear of being fully seen.
“You’re such a strange girl, I’d like to turn you all upside down…”
But the mirror had been waiting.
Behind the healer’s smile lived the wound —
the nurse turned trainer turned nutritionist
who could read everyone’s pain but her own.
The empath addicted to being needed,
the savior who called exhaustion purpose.
I ignored her reflection
until she began to bleed through every mask.
Until I could no longer silence the whisper:
“You cannot heal others by abandoning yourself.”
And so the mirrors shattered.
Every reflection — the rescuer, the perfectionist,
the woman who wanted to be understood but not exposed —
fell to the floor in shards of revelation.
And there, among them, I finally met her —
the strange girl beneath it all.
She wasn’t broken.
She was becoming.
Not something to repair,
but something to remember.
A wholeness rising from integration,
not purity.
“You’re such a strange girl, I want to be with you…”
Now, I walk barefaced beneath the moon.
No crown. No costume. No cause to defend.
I have met the woman beneath the healer,
the creature beneath the light —
and she is still strange.
But this time, she is mine.
Strange no longer hides me.
It frees me.
It is the spell I broke by loving myself enough
to stop saving everyone else.
And as the veil thins this October,
I rise — not from another world.
Well… perhaps another world after all —
the one within.
“I think I’m falling, I think I’m falling in, I think I’m falling in love with you…”
Yes.
I think I’m falling in love with me.
If any part of this touched something inside you, I’d love to know.
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In truth and transformation,
Karen Di Gloria
🎼❤️🔥✨
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