There was a Sunday five years after I left that I realized I'd stopped measuring myself against the person I was supposed to become in that world, and I had no idea who I was supposed to become in this one. Not in a crisis way anymore—more like standing in a grocery store not knowing what I actually wanted for dinner because I'd never chosen for myself before. This hits that strange middle space: the becoming is real, it's necessary, and it's also terrifying because there's no script. The poem doesn't promise it gets less scary. It just says: do it anyway.
The Art of Becoming
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A poem about finding strength, learning from mistakes, and moving forward with hope.
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There was a Sunday five years after I left that I realized I'd stopped measuring myself against the person I was supposed to become in that world, and I had no idea who I was supposed to become in this one. Not in a crisis way anymore—more like standing i
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We are not born complete; we learn to bloom.
Every sunrise invites another beginning.
The strongest trees once trembled as seeds.
Even rivers carve mountains through patience.
Failure is not the end of the story.
It is the page where courage starts to write.
Dreams are stitched from countless silent efforts.
Hope is the thread that keeps them together.
The world may not applaud every step you take.
Still, walk as though your purpose knows the way.
A kind heart leaves footprints no storm can erase.
Gentle words often outlive the loudest voices.
Do not measure your worth by another's success.
Every soul has its own season to shine.
The stars never compete with the morning sun.
Each brightens the sky in its own time.
Become someone your younger self would admire.
Carry humility higher than your victories.
For the greatest journey is not reaching the summit
It is becoming the person who deserved to stand there.
Thoughts
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There was a Sunday five years after I left that I realized I'd stopped measuring myself against the person I was supposed to become in that world, and I had no idea who I was supposed to become in this one. Not in a crisis way anymore—more like standing in a grocery store not knowing what I actually wanted for dinner because I'd never chosen for myself before. This hits that strange middle space: the becoming is real, it's necessary, and it's also terrifying because there's no script. The poem doesn't promise it gets less scary. It just says: do it anyway.
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