Well shit... on the spectrum.
I should have known
maybe I did.
All the years of feeling other
imposter syndrome
acting a part, stepping in it, and failing miserably;
always being misunderstood.
misunderstandings, mistranslations, and miss iterations,
but at the end of the day
now I know.
It all makes sense
the overwhelming confused mass of guilt
and
unnamed shame makes sense now.
I am relived
truth be told
and impressed, that I've accomplished so much,
while not knowing.
Which is the blessing?
the knowing or not knowing?
But then I think to myself
I love learning
I know what it is to love and be loved
I am accomplished and growing
I am as the universe made me
imperfectly perfect
perfectly made for me
and I am enough.
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