Photo by Kleigh Balugo
The version of myself
who was blissfully naive,
the version of myself
whose biggest problem was deciding what toy she wanted from the store,
the version of myself
who thought I had found love with you
are all dead now.
But so are
the version of myself
who based her self-worth on grades,
the version of myself
who was insecure about how she looked,
the version of myself
who mistakenly thought a doctor was the best profession for her,
the version of myself
who was heartbroken over you.
I had to kill them
in order to grow,
but that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful
for the role they played
in getting me to where I am today.
The baby bird just about to hatch
wouldn’t have grown so large
without the help of the egg
that is now confining it,
yet the egg must be shattered
for the baby bird to enter
the next stage of its life.
If I could talk to the past versions of myself,
I would tell them that I forgive them
for the mistakes they made
when they didn’t know what I know now
and ask them to forgive me
for abandoning their dreams
so I could pursue new ones
that I believe will make me happier.
I hope they would consider me
a better, not just a newer
version of them
and would be proud
of the person they became.
I think they would.
Kindergarten 