I have been keeping a series of journals, the earliest dates back to 2004. I was in college at the time. I was still trying to find out how to love myself. It took me quite a number of years before I was able to say that I loved myself unconditionally. I will sometimes sit down and read the words I wrote as I was transforming from a teenager to an adult. It is a good reminder of just how far I have come in my journey. I want to share the poem I wrote my senior year of high school.

I learned a lot from my english teacher my senior year of high school. He challenged his students to look beyond what you were reading by other authors or sources, and to form your own opinion on the subject. It was the first time someone said to me ‘your voice matter’ and I actually believed them. He didn’t say those words exactly, but he said them through every lecture, every assignment, and even every time he returned a graded paper. At the end of the year he asked us to write about our personal philosophy of life and our own journey to find a holy grail.

I had gone home the summer of 2004, after a year of having health problems. It took a series of tests to discover why I had been passing out so much. I learned that i had an anxiety disorder that resulted in pseudoseizures. Basically I didn’t know how to deal, or manager my stress. So, my body would shut itself down in order to release the stress I wasn’t able to let go. I started journaling as a way to learn how to release and manage my stress so I wouldn’t have to be faced with my body taking over. When I was cleaning my bedroom back home one day I found my senior english paper. After reading through the paper I copied onto the first page of my journal the poem I had added to the end of my assignment. I believed at the time that this one poem of mine could say everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. I felt that it was still a true definition of who I was, and the self discovery which plagued my whole being with each breath.

I am trapped in myself. 

Yearning to be set free,

captured by my own inner turmoil of self discovery.

My life moves outside the bubble

of inflicted learning, of self realism. 

I cry to move.

Holding on just a moment longer.

Let go I say,

so I may be able to dance to a new me,

sing of the awakening,

think about tomorrow.

For it is then,

I shall be set free. 

The poem no longer defines me. I have found the freedom I yearned for. I know, I still have more to discover. However, I am no longer trapped inside of myself. I will continue to grow and change each season. I appreciate where I have been, and see clarity in where I am going.