The critics were (somewhat) right,
And (now) so am I.
When I take who I was
And see who I am,
I think back to how affronted or hurt I was by criticism years ago.
What I considered to be facile judgments would wound me deeply.
Criticism felt like rejection.
It burned slowly like an acid.
But an interesting thing has taken place with age.
I now realize that some of what my critics said was wrong,
And in other cases, they really did have a point.
The critics were (somewhat) right.
In fact, today I agree with some of what they said,
Though I could not see it at the time.
Some meant to hurt, some meant to help,
And others were just looking for something to say
to fill the air between us.
I didn't agree with them then,
But now there are parts I agree with,
Upon consideration and covered by the patina of wisdom
That forms with time.
Their motives, as time moves on,
really don’t matter as much as the process of becoming.
Thank you, critics, for helping me to think.
Perhaps then, I too made facile judgments.
But who I am today,
Is the product of the effects of criticism and praise.
And getting past each
To find the truth.
And it's not the criticism that endures,
But the truth.
We cannot condemn the words of those who do not know us.
Until we truly know ourselves
And surpass who we were,
And love the promise of what we still can be.
Criticism, true and false
Valid and gratuitous
Is just the friction that is the abrasive polish,
That helps us to shine.
My skin didn’t get thicker,
My heart just got bigger,
Because I know that the story is still being written
And edited every day.
The critics were (somewhat) right,
And (now) so am I.
Comments