A river is my only inspiration: rivers have the hardest days, tolerate unbearable circumstances and are taken for granted more times than you could possibly imagine but day in and day out the river always finds the strength to keep going. The river is an extraordinary book, each day it welcomes a new chapter. There is no yesterday or tomorrow, only the present exists with all its promising and wonderful adventures. The river doesn’t hold grudges or dwell on past mistakes. The river doesn’t doubt its ability or find time to second-guess its importance. The river just keeps flowing as if nothing has ever gone wrong.

The river could possibly be the happiest feature amongst man, for no tick separates its right from wrong, no calculator questions its method, no test declares its intelligence and no society sets its standard. The river is both beauty and beast, both high and low, both king and joker and therefore, if I were Aladdin I would use my three wishes from the genie to be as free as the river.

I remember wishing to be older, being a dreamer and telling my first-grade teacher I’d study to be a pilot. I remember those heated conversations, saying I hate my father and furiously screaming at my mother because every ungrateful part of me thought I’d be ready for her absence when she finally found her way to heaven’s gate. Now I can only reflect on my younger self and be ashamed of his shallow view on life, always choosing to see the simplest form of things.

The spider always climbed the waterspout, Humpty Dumpty always fell and at the end of every rainbow, you’d always find a pot of gold. My younger self was quite the character, unique in ways I used to hate but have now learnt to envy. Now gone are the days when a child had bigger dreams, smaller worries and fewer insecurities. When we would take slow walks to the park, sit on the swings, allow ourselves to engage in senseless conversations and later enjoy a harmless game of tag. Genie, genie, I wish to go back to the time when I was six.

In many ways I’m happy to have grown up deeply rooted in my values and happy to be chosen amongst those who rose to see another day. I’m still trying to be and do my very best, still tangled in the process of growing up while finding comfort with my choices and a thousand ways to live down my regrets. Here’s a letter that I seem to read but only on the days when my anxiety takes control and that silver lining becomes hard to see. Now I would like to use my last wish and set the genie free. Genie, genie, I wish to stay true to every word written in this letter.

Dear Me

You’re a good kid, please remember that. Remember to take a breath and cherish all the small unnoticed parts of life; remember to count your blessings even before they come. Give yourself time, babies crawl before they walk. When you practise, practise for improvement because perfect has always been a far-fetched journey. Stay true to yourself, believe the race is more comfortable in your own shoes. You should focus on the movement not the pace of it, focus on the message not the pen or pencil that wrote it.

Distractions are bound to cross your path, but you are strong enough to focus on all the things that really matter. Don’t be too hasty, don’t be too greedy, be grateful for the things you have but fear not chasing all the things your heart desires. Have friends but, unlike the Liverpool supporter, be prepared to walk alone sometimes. Accept error, embrace your flaws and invest in your personal growth, whether it be physically, mentally or spiritually.

It’s going to take time, but you will get it right. You’re a seed and you’ll grow. You’re a flower, you’ll stumble and fall. The choreography seems hard, but you will learn to dance. Be as free as the river, dream like a six-year-old and accept you are different, unique and unbelievably beautiful in your own way, for “no price is too high for the privilege of owning yourself.”

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Tell us: Why is it important to own yourself?