At the end of the day, I just want to be proud of the
person I have become. I want to be proud of the love
I gave—of the way in which I risked my heart despite
being hurt. I want to be proud of the effort I showed
those I cared about; I want to know with a ruthless
certainty that I showed up as much as I could, that I
made people feel seen, that I made those around me
feel less alone in this chaotic world. I want to be proud
of my life—of the way I healed, of the way I made
mistakes and learned from them, of the way I felt
everything even when it wasn’t convenient or comfortable.
I want to be proud of the way I grew, of the way I let go,
of the way I pushed myself to be a better person. At
the end of the day, I just want to be able to say without
hesitation that I lived my life, that I did not just take a
back seat to my pain, or to my flaws, or to whatever
hardships came my way. I want to be able to say that
I am proud of the way I survived. I want to be able to
say that I did not take one day for granted.
YOU ARE READING
The Strength in our Scars
PoetryBy Bianca Sparacino - this tackles the gut-wrenching but relatable experiences of moving on, self-love, and ultimately learning to heal. In this book you will find peace, you will find a rock, you will find understanding, and you will find hope. Rem...
