Dear Self,
You are a living, breathing work of art.
You have broken several times but you’ve managed to mend the pieces back together
And like the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with powdered gold,
The cracks in you are visible, yet so fucking beautiful.
They scream, “I am still here. I am still here.”
My love,
Remember the times you thought you could not make it
And self-doubt engulfed your whole being?
Remember when every ounce of motivation had abandoned you
Yet you still managed to hold onto a single ray of light
And rise like a phoenix from the ruins of your wretched life?
Now, I know you take things more personally than you’d like to admit.
I know you want to be liked, that the opinion of others about you matters.
But no one who changed the world was loved by everyone
So remember this, every time you stand up for what you believe in
Do it with a sturdy voice, with no “buts” and “maybes” filled with hesitation.
Keep that flame of belief burning inside you strong.
You pay attention; you listen, not only speak.
You offer your love so unconditionally, as if it’s the most natural thing to do.
Take that love and give some to yourself as well
Help it grow, watch it become your most powerful weapon.
Self-love! It’s not selfish to accept yourself for who you are
To be infatuated with yourself
After all, people may come and go, but you’ll always have yourself.
I know I rarely tell you how amazing you are
But it’s been one hell of a year
May every day be an ode to yourself,
An ode to the world that welcomes you.
An ode to the ones who are kind –
May you never stop walking towards the light.
a.
