We chase the dream of a perfect day,
But imperfections won’t go away.
In this world of chaos, we stumble and sway,
Yet beauty hides in the mess we create.

Laughter echoes, but tears fall too,
In every hello, there is a goodbye too.
The sun shines bright, but my shadows loom,
In every moment, a story’s hidden gloom.

We quest for control, but life’s untamed,
Unpredictable twists and turns we can’t reclaim.
Yet in the midst of turmoil, we find our strength,
A resilience that guides us through life’s length.

So let’s embrace the journey, with all its flaws,
And find the beauty in the imperfect laws.
For life’s not about seeking perfection’s gleam,
But dancing with the mess, and making it our theme.

In the uncontrolled moments, we find our voice,
A unique melody that echoes our own voice.
The same melody that makes us make a choice.
Let’s cherish the imperfections, the quirks and the flaws,
For they shape our story, and make our life pause.

Why should I love myself? Let’s dive in with fun,
For I am unique, a rare edition, second to none.
Graduated with honors, a brain quite something,
But still manage to trip over my own two feet.

From University halls to the classrooms I’ve led,
I’ve learned quite a lot, not just what books have said.
Special Ed to core subjects, I’ve taught with flair,
Even when my lesson plans fly above me and my students through the air.

In arguments, I’m a star, my emotions are tight,
Yet, I can’t seem to win when my jeans feel too tight.
Sensory panic the autistic embrace.
My dedication’s fierce, in every task I immerse,
But ask me to cook, and you might need a nurse.

A mentor, a tutor, a friend indeed,
With a heart so vast, I am a rare breed.
I’ve campaigned, I’ve coordinated, even made the Dean’s list,
And yet, finding my keys remains a mythical mist.

I laugh at my errors and embrace each mistake,
For each one’s a lesson, another step I must take.
In life’s moving theatre, I play many roles,
From educator to activist, I’ve scored a ton of goals.

Why love myself? For every stumble and stride,
For the courage to be me, without having to hide.
For my passion, my laughter, the joy I bring,
In this symphony of life, I’m truly the queen.

So here’s to self-love, in all its glory,
For I am the author of a powerful story.
A tale of struggle, of growth, of fun,
Yes, loving myself is a job in itself
As I am a pain in the ass to even myself.

On the day I graduated a lone star shone brightly
With honors and triumph that seemed unlikely.
In the face of discrimination I held my head high
As I alone embraced this achievement with pride.

While others graduated without any strife
I battled biases throughout my life.
My strength, hidden behind Autisms veil,
A power, within that could never fail.

Being the recipient of such a grade
I earned this distinction despite the parade
Of doubts and prejudices that tried to sway
Yet undeterred I persevered every single day.

Their paths were free, from disdain
While I wrestled with enduring pain.
Magna cum laude, a crown
Worn amidst discriminations critique.

This special day of mine shines bright and true
Born from struggles they couldn’t. View.
May it stand tall as a testament clear
To resilience against odds.

In the ever-changing dance of life, I find myself surrounded by reasons to be grateful. Each day, I am presented with a vibrant tapestry of experiences that remind me to appreciate the little things.

College is like an exhilarating adventure, where knowledge thrives and dreams are nurtured. It’s a place where friendships bloom like stars, illuminating the nights with laughter and love. These cherished moments with friends bring me endless joy.

My family is my sanctuary, providing unwavering support and serving as the glue that holds everything together. And then there’s my boyfriend, a guiding light through life’s waves. His warmth and love create an anchor where my heart finds solace.

Life throws hurdles our way, testing our strength and resilience. But it’s within these challenges that we truly discover our inner power. Embracing these hurdles becomes a testament to our resilience and marks the beginning of new journeys.

I am grateful for the gentle kiss of each sunrise, for a love that grows deeper with every passing day, for those moments of pure bliss. In this symphony called life, gratitude soars like the notes played on a beautiful melody. I hold onto all that I cherish, now and for all time.

I used to talk a lot. I’d do anything to keep the conversation going, to not be alone. If there was a lull, I’d say things like, “really?” or “wow” or “oh,” on and on. A filler. That’s all it was. Filler words had a hidden meaning to them; they begged, on hands and knees, and said, “Keep talking to me I can’t lose you I’d talk my throat dry if it meant you always had something to respond to.”
I’m not scared to lose anyone anymore. I’m only scared of letting the wrong ones in.
People come and people go. If I am the ocean, then I have to be mindful of what floats my way; everything either adds to my ecosystem or tries to destroy it.
It is not so terrifying to be alone, after all, because peace is more important than all else.
To be respected, you must not let anyone disrespect you again, because at the end of the day, the only one you’ll have to answer to is yourself.
To define what exactly it means to be worthy of respect is tricky. You could mention achievements or accolades, popularity, goals attained, money earned, but even that is worthless if you don’t have heart.
Who did you love and why?
Were you brave enough to bare your soul?
Did you protect the innocent or did you step on the good guys as a means to an end?
Did you fight?
Are you still fighting?
Fighting to live, to seek justice, to prosper, to be free?
I deserve the utmost respect because I am a survivor. Because I chose life. Because I will never stop fighting. Because I refuse to just be “alive.” Because I will become life.

(I) Respect Me

R-
E-
S-
P-
E-
C-
T

Who deserves it?

Why me?

I’ll be the first to admit I’ve quit.
And go as far as to confess
what a mess I’ve made.

Because see,

there’s no amount of grit that guarantees
I’ll be met with respect of any degree.

The more I learn the more I’ll earn–
it was only a matter of time
before it’d be my turn.

Or so they said.
Then-convinced, I complied

in the name of getting ahead.

And cliche as it may sound
That was then and this is now.

Presently, I make countless donations
to the cause that is me.

I know now that I don’t need a destination–
what I need is to be free,
let go of expectations.

So I honor this affinity for creation I’ve long felt–
bringing the unimaginable to life through self expression.
I assign meaning–

they meet me–

to the real me.

Some they disagree
in silence.
Others plea–

grounded by old beliefs
like roots of a tree.
But that could never be me.

So how does one get to be respected?
They don’t.

They won’t.

I don’t.
And won’t.

Not unless or until
I am free to be me–
even if they don’t agree.

Tomorrow’s a new day–
another chance.

So, I’ll rest
and the rest
will fall into place.

You see,
self-respect

that’s the key.

It always was and it always will be.

I am worth it.
Why not me?

And now you’ve found out what it means
to me–

why I “deserve” it.

Dear Ideal Self,

As I sit down to address you, I am reminded of the complex blend of qualities that define me. The absence of idleness in my character has always been evident; it’s not just a trait but a fundamental part of who I am. This characteristic has shaped my journey in profound ways.

From a very early age, life taught me that inaction would not serve me well. I recall those early days when I received a diagnosis of speech and developmental delays. At the tender age of three, I was entirely non-verbal and struggled with sensory impairments. Some described me as stubborn, unpredictable, at times exhausting, and yet undeniably adorable. Therapists characterized me as “nonverbal,” “delayed,” and even “a very pretty, well-dressed little girl.”

Our reliance on military insurance limited our access to local therapists and doctors. My diagnoses shifted between Apraxia, Autism, and Pervasive Developmental Disorder, depending on the week and the session. But one day, a therapist uttered a sentence that changed everything. “Your daughter will never do anything we could not train a monkey to do.” My parents and I left that door behind, never to return. I was too young to recall that moment, but I know it altered my life for the better. It transformed us into warriors, determined to conquer one challenge at a time. Initiative, determination, and hard work weren’t just characteristics; they became our tools.

Through countless IEP meetings, my mother’s unwavering dedication to researching, my limited vocabulary evolving into a rich one, and the tremendous support of teachers who recognized my potential, I found my voice. But it was more than words; it was pride, determination, and ambition. Yes, I still have quirks, and I acknowledge that I’m different from most, but I’ve learned that I’m capable and resilient. I’m the first to say “I can,” the most sincere in saying “I will,” and, while not always fearless, I am consistently determined. I understand that I won’t always be the best at everything I do or say, but as long as I maintain unwavering dedication, I can hold my head high.

So, ideal self, keep in mind your origins. You are a complex, expressive, unwavering, confident individual, perhaps a grammatical challenge to some, but one thing you will never be is indolent. Embrace your determination, persist in your pursuit of excellence, and most importantly, never forget the incredible journey that has shaped you.

With enduring resolve,

Rebecca