I Accept My Mistakes!

Often seen as bitter, your mistakes blossom as a part of your invariable self.

BY YVE SPENGLER

I was a mere 12 years old when an eccentric teacher of mine introduced me to the notion that I could never leave my own body.

I am escapable from everyone but myself.

This seed was planted dormantly within me, in later years it adapted to increasing self-doubts; the imperceptible growth of lush branches. The wind disperses me to eight years later, and a girl looks me up and down in the outfit I had so anxiously styled. She frowns. Fear causes a tremor through my body, knowing my outward appearance can never compare with another’s standard. I have so much admiration for actors who make it seem so easy to slip into the role of another, as I myself have no capabilities for this sort of expression. Instead, I write.

I write during nightfall, when tears rain down my swollen eyes because I am reminded of how I cannot elude my physical prison. Because my once strong hold of the moon has slipped and I perilously barrel down to the rapidly approaching earth, yet I am gently caught in the crux of fortified branches. I write because there are complexities hidden underneath the skin for us all.

There is the invariable “you.” You, who cannot be anyone but you, who is not just an undeserving fake of another’s care. You, who truly is authentic and worthy of the love others show you—the care you deserve from yourself. Acceptance of your failures blossoms you into the now rooted, secure version of yourself. Accept yourself for all that you are, because growth from your mistakes has allowed you to survive in harsh seasons of frigid snow.

Now, the leaves of your tree finally extend to catch hold of the livened moonlight, streaming continuous reassurance inwards. You may feel like a mind trapped inside a body, but your mind knows you; isn’t it wonderful to be seen?