Self-Acceptance

Here, I realized:
it’s just me: with myself
and honestly, what a pleasure.

I’d avoided my own presence for years,
afraid of what I might say
but I turned out to be the only one
who never lied to me.

The truth?
It doesn’t come flashing in neon.
It slips in soft, wearing slippers,
always carrying a cracked mirror.

But beware:
just because someone shouts “truth”
doesn’t mean it’s more
than a half-cooked opinion.

What really matters
is the truth that needs no convincing.

Those who try too hard to prove it…
are often still learning.

Ah, and acceptance…
that winning ticket everyone wants,
but few take time
to read between the lines.

It took me a while to understand:
without my own approval,
applause from others
sounds like clapping from the distracted.

To be accepted without self-acceptance
is like placing flowers in a cracked vase
then being surprised
when water spills.

In the end, I found:
you don’t have to say everything,
or show your soul’s certificate.

The truth that matters lives
beneath the surface of the iceberg
where no one sees.

And if someone insists on digging
where they don’t belong,
it’s only because they fear
the emptiness in their own soil.

So if they ask who I am,
I’ll answer with a smile
part crooked, part sacred:

I’m what remained
once I stopped trying
to be anything else.