Lately I've been thinking a lot about self acceptance. Acceptance of self. Feeling okay about who one (I) is and what one (I) does.
I is and I does, I like it.
Today I experienced a really wild and crazy lesson in this exact thing.
A while back I wrote a piece: Where I am from.
Today, weeks later, I received a brief but welcome comment. It prompted me to go and read what I had written.
When I wrote the piece, I totally felt like I had not hit the mark, like mine wasn't as superb as the woman who's piece made me write mine. I was glad I'd made the effort, it was definitely a stretch for me, someone who really doesn't *get* the poetry thing often. But I really felt like mine was not enough.
Recently I thought, gee, I should go back and re-write my piece, give it another shot. But you know what the chances of that are, re-writing something on the blogosperical?
But today I re-read that post because someone came to visit and generously left a few precious words. And I cried. (I know!)
Because the piece? It is as beautiful as all of the pieces that are written using this prompt, whether to the letter like this one by Everything and no one... like the last mom on earth by a woman who makes me love being a woman, or loosely, and with freedom, like this one at Bugginword, written by an amazingly crazy writer who makes my head spin in all of the best ways and came to my post by way of a new and yummy blogpal. She also makes me glad I was born girl.
I tell you all, all [holy cow! 17 of you! (or more) holy eminereffiner] who read this post. While I am not really concerned about growing this little space of mine, I am grateful for each and every pair of eyes (or singles, if that's all you use to read this; or sightless people, if you use a reader) that I am humbled and grateful for each of you, for what you bring to my little corner of the world, whether in quiet spirit or in comment. I'm so grateful that you are here, slugging it out with me.
But today? I'm thankful for the comments of a stranger that gave me the impetus to reread my own words and to realise that they are, indeed, good enough for me.