looking back

What is the very definition of perfect? It would seem demeaning to call my life simply perfect, a life without imperfection is one too superficial, it is a life with no vulnerability. How does one ever become themselves if not by being engulfed in the experiences that life brings you? How does one become themselves without making life altering mistakes? I’d never know who I was if I hadn’t grown from who I used to be. For so long, there was a little girl in my head screaming “you are unloved,” I never saw that there is also a woman holding her in the arms of her warm embrace saying “you are loved, we will get through this, we have before.” My older self looks at my child self with gratitude and tells her that her time here will be eventful and emotionally fulfilling because the guilt you feel only tells you that you want to be better and you will always continue to grow in the roots of kindness. The faith that I collect from the people I love water these roots and I keep growing. Normally, I’d be punishing my younger self for being so careless and naive, never realising they did all they could with what they knew back then. The world can be unforgiving as it is, we must find forgiveness within ourselves. Solace comes from knowing there is a way out, and it is forgiveness. All that you have cherished and loved is looked back through the halls of the narrow pathway behind the light at the end, you see the people you once loved and this rush of longing surges your body. The longing tells me I’m scared, but being scared only lets us know we’re on to something worth it. I leave a dim light on for the the love I left behind so I can go back to see how far I’ve come from the abyss I once thought was shining light through my eyes. I see the light now and it doesn’t deceive me, this is the light that guides me. And I keep walking towards it.