‘You’re not good enough.’ That’s how it often starts or at least that’s how it begun for me.

Looking back now, I should have held that thought, perhaps then the seeds wouldn’t have been planted and I wouldn’t been reaping the fruits from the tree that has now expanded into a garden.

But those words seemed harmles at the time, I was a young impressoanble human being who couldn’t see past my feet and once the seeds began to take root there was no going back.

Then came the next seed sowed in to me by my preschool teachers, ‘You’re bad at maths,’ or any other subject of the week, they would yell. seemingly more disappointed about my stupidity by the day.

If I knew, I had the power to reject such words, I would have but that’s not the kind of things we are taught in school is it?

Overtime, even if I wasn’t stupid I began to act stupidly, a wise person who was constantly told she was foolish, would soon become a fool.

I began growing into the my teenage years but shrinking into my mind, the voice had always been there but it got louder now and it took more effort to shut her up.

When I failed at something which was almost everything, I blamed it on my stupidity. If someone hurt me, it was my fault. Afterall, who could love a fool? So I never really blamed them.

I was the footmat which we all had on our porch, always right there but rarely paid attention to. That was my reality or So I thought. Regardless I lived it, breathed it and embraced it.

More time went by but things didn’t get better, my shoulders which were always straightened in my younger years were slumped from years of negative self talk.

Little did I know, I only saw one side of the mirror. I didn’t realize that I gave these people the power to make their words sting.

Soon I became acclimatized to negative self talk, I thought if I didn’t say it out loud then that would make things better but it didn’t. I no longer believed in affirmations because if I truly loved myself then I didn’t need to chant into a mirror to convince myself.

Was I right? At the time I thought I was.

I became cynical and hid it under being realistic however I was only fooling myself. The rotting of a fruit began from within.

Now I see that I gave away my power, I understand what I must do to reclaim it back. Some of the trees in this garden has taken roots for years but I was ready to begin uprooting, one tree at a time until this orcno longer exists.

A letter from the new optimistic me.