I can't spell.
Nor can I proof
my own work.
Dyslexia and computer screens
show me what I want to see,
not what truly exists.
When I was younger this made me a captive,
terrified of communicating in written words.
Whenever I had to write I had gut wrenching anxiety,
because I knew my heartfelt words would not be read, only judged.
Thankfully, though, people mocked me.
They ridiculed me and they berated me.
They did it endlessly, tirelessly, bitterly
until I just didn't care anymore.
One day, their judgment set me free.
I realized that,
until I just didn't care anymore.
One day, their judgment set me free.
I realized that,
even if I spelled everything perfectly,it wouldn't really matter.
The people that were the hardest on me
weren't trying to help,
they weren't going to hear my voice,
they just wanted to be right.
That was when I realized
I didn't want to be perfect.
I wanted to be flawed.
I wanted to be mistaken.
I wanted to be happy.
Now that I teach English I remember this battle,
and although I hold my students
to an exceptionally high standard in class,
when they open up their hearts
I put away my red pen.
For me,
there are no errors
when the heart is on the line.
It's only their thoughts that counts.
The people that were the hardest on me
weren't trying to help,
they weren't going to hear my voice,
they just wanted to be right.
That was when I realized
I didn't want to be perfect.
I wanted to be flawed.
I wanted to be mistaken.
I wanted to be happy.
Now that I teach English I remember this battle,
and although I hold my students
to an exceptionally high standard in class,
when they open up their hearts
I put away my red pen.
For me,
there are no errors
when the heart is on the line.
It's only their thoughts that counts.
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