I've often heard it said
That what doesn't kill me
Will surely make me stronger.
Sometimes I've doubted
That old adage,
But now,
As I look back
Over the years
Of heartache and struggle,
I can marvel at
The tensile strength
That my life has forged,
Taking a troubled, frightened girl
Who was never more
Than a step away
From suicide
And instilling her
With hope and the ability
To dream big dreams.
Sometimes I still stumble,
Falling over old bad habits
And losing sight
Of the right path
To follow,
But mostly, usually,
I continue
To make progress
By forgiving myself
For my faults
And moving past them,
Seeking and hanging on to
My hard won self-acceptance
And the peace of mind
It brings.