Self-acceptance is the most beautiful kind of acceptance. This poem is about what it took for me to get to that point.

For as long as I can remember, I was rarely free,

Except as a child, for there were moments when I could just be me,

Lost in the moment climbing trees, or making makeshift lanterns from fireflies in brief captivity,

Like those fireflies, I’ve known what it’s like to be held prisoner, in perpetual captivity,

I was trapped in a jar of my own making,

Terrified of my secret being discovered, and no joy in life taking,

These walls I erected, made of fear, expectations, and my insecurities,

Held me prisoner from being who I was meant to be,

All the while, as a child, the girl inside would always whisper to me,

“Please” she implored “let me be free!”

But back in the day, in that society, I couldn’t indulge such a want…no, such a need,

I mean, I had no choice, for I would be naked and vulnerable for all to see,

But I paid a price for ignoring this desperate girl’s pleas,

For I wracked up debt without the courtesy of a little “girl time” loan,

Debts like acceptance, forgiveness, and the need to come into my own,

Sadly, my only credit was regrets, which were scattered like invisible childhood debris,

Now the girl inside was shouting, “don’t stifle me any longer! Please let me breathe!”

As heartless as a loan shark I became, dangling her freedom like collateral,

“Man up!” he barked, for the foreseeable, and maybe…just maybe, one day, I’ll be agreeable,

And I obeyed until the foreseeable became the interminable…became a life unbearable,

The whispers built to a crescendo, and from a dark hidden place she quietly screamed,

“Please let me die! Please let me die if you have any mercy!”

I know why she screams because she sees hope as a life raft in seas one-hundred feet high,

And now the ledge beckons and her freedom is finally, thankfully, mercifully, nigh,

Just as she’s about to stage her last act of sound and fury to imagined spectators below,

A change of heart releases year upon year of accumulated sorrow,

Suddenly, that desperate need for a tragic freedom no longer plagues her tomorrows,

And there will be many bright tomorrows as she blossoms in time,

For she unapologetically and unashamedly will let her light shine,

Hope has ceased being a life raft in one-hundred foot seas,

The once raging eternal storm in her mind has finally ceased,

All that remains is acceptance, and she finally knows peace.