I read this poem as: No matter what you do, what you try, your real, central being will always exist. At one point, you’re going to have accept this, and stop trying to ‘fix’ yourself; to conform, in order to fit in and gain others’ approval. Find a home within yourself. A flawed, imperfect home. Don’t try to find yourself, but see the truth for exactly that- the truth. You are not lost, therefore you cannot be found. You are simply in denial.
The core of your true self is never lost. Let go of all the pretending and the becoming you’ve done just to belong. Curl up with your rawness and come home. You don’t have to find yourself; you just have to let yourself in.
-d. antoinette foy