Growing Beyond Acceptance

Recently I realized how much I let go in the name of being accepted by my partner or in the excuse of having a child.

Putting these flaws on pause for a lil while was okay, to rest my heart and head in the receptive coziness of unconditional love. But, I’m a creature with a co-dependent love of comfort.

Poem woe is the me
Woe is the me / who was accepted / for flaws and all / and did nothing / to be better

The curse of being heavily blessed with earth signs is we seek to root in just about any place, including places that don’t feel good but serves a purpose. For example, I remember how I both loved and hated misery. I stayed miserable because it made me FEEL alive, but it didn’t feel good to be alive the way I was living.

I can hear the echoes of my roots stretching her wooden antennas, taking form in the warmth of external validation, not to say people given validation is all poopery. I overindulged in giving up on my own betterment in certain areas because that’s what trauma does when it’s finally cared for: you somehow let go of making effort to be better.

I let go of being better for that taste of my roots being cared for. Yea, I want to be accepted for my *now* flaws, but it’s dangerous to stop putting effort into my *future* self.

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