This has been a year of self discovery for me. Year 25 of my little sweet life. I've faced some demons that have been lurking for years and years. I've realized things about myself that I disliked and also things that I've loved. The most monumental shift in my thinking over this year has been the change in my thoughts about myself. For a long time I felt like I didn't measure up. Like I wasn't good enough. I was constantly trying, struggling. In a lot of pain. But then I realized that, for all of my flaws, and my work that still needs to be done, I'm alright. I kind of actually love myself. And I'm pretty sure that's okay. Here is a poem I wrote about all of that. Just wanted to share it and hope that it can motivate you too!
The Girl That Could Fly
I love that girl with her hair in a mess.
Her feet all covered with dirt.
Brown and tough as the roads she's ran.
I love that girl with her heart on her sleeve.
A grin on her face.
Coffee in hand and a friend on her arm, she can do almost anything.
And I love that girl with her heart so big.
She doesn't feel the scars of yesterday's pain.
I love that silly, messy girl.
She knows the world is big and full of monsters, but she's not afraid.
I know another girl, she worries, she frets.
She's heard and done things that she cannot forget.
She's broken and bandaged, some days she's a mess.
Yes.
I know that girl.
She's not sure she can hear the beat anymore.
The beat of her heart, that told her to run.
And helped her to fly.
Inside she cries, because she wants to be free of the chains weighing heavy on her soul.
To the mirror she looks.
To the world she looks.
And they tell her she's useless and wrong.
To them, she doesn't belong.
She must do more, be more.
Change. Conform.
Try. Run. Maybe die.
But never, ever, ever, fly.
Sometimes their voice is so loud like the hum of a crowd.
She starts to get lost in the roar.
She doesn't hear the beat of the drum in her soul anymore.
So she pins back her wings and hides them under her arms.
And she soars no more.
Till one day somehow, the door's left open ajar.
And she hears the wind blow, and she sees all the stars.
And she starts to feel that tug once more in her heart.
She's not their girl anymore.
She belongs to another.
A story long told of a passionate lover.
Who handcrafted her unlike any other.
Uniquely, beautifully, HER.
And he destined her for the sky.
She loves that girl. His girl.
She looks out at his world.
Pushes open the door.
And she flies.
This poem, to me, is about loving who you are. Not trying to live up to some standard that is placed on you by society or anyone else in your life. Realizing all that you already are and learning to love it. No matter how unique a blend you may be. We are all works of art, under construction, and we don't have to look a certain way. We don't have to fit in or try to be someone else. We are most alive when we just be who we are.
