Anxiety, you choke me.
You push the air from my lungs and through the burning in my chest,
Push harder still.
You take my clarity and muddle it,
Darkening the bright skies of my optimism with life’s cruel rainstorms.
You rattle my confidence and pin it down,
weakening it until it’s huddled fearfully in the recesses of my thoughts,
Too worried to try and present itself to the world.
But I am what gives you the strength to cripple me.
The shackles that bind me were crafted by my own hands,
Driven by the truth that all anyone wants to be is good enough.
All I want to be is good enough.
Your strength comes from the fear that I am not.
And so I will tell myself that no storm lasts forever,
And the winds that you have sent to ravage me will soon subside.
I will tell myself that I am worth more than you think,
And that being true to who I am will one day make me able to overpower you.
I will tell myself that I am good enough.
I always have been.
And so I will grasp opportunities with both hands, pull them to my chest,
And know that I have done the best I could.
All the judgements I fear come from those who don’t know me,
The me that I am deep down in my soul and strive everyday to meet.
When I finally meet this version of myself, I will gently poke you awake,
And thank you for helping me become who I was meant to be.