Reflection On Acceptance Poem Written June 25, 1988

Here is a poem on acceptance. As you can see, the poem was written in 1988. There are some rough times mentioned in it, but what matters is that I was able to persevere through the confusion of the time. I am happy with the fact that I survived that period and still am happy with who I am. I just couldn’t figure out why so many other people were having such a hard time accepting me. All the memories of all types of abuses were starting to come back, and I didn’t know how to handle them. I just kept trying to rebury them as I had for the nineteen years prior. With me having a hard time with day to day living, apparently it was seeping through into my relationships with other people. This fact was probably why so many people were upsetting me with their comments, because I was not able to process the comments properly. Everything that anybody was telling me was being taken the wrong way. This poem was the result of all of that confusion. After writing the poem things started to clear up considerably for me. Sometimes, that’s all that it takes, just to stop what you are doing and write out how you are feeling at that time. One of the most important things to remember when you are upset is not to react in a negative way. don’t do anything that will be a permanent solution to a temporary problem. In other words, don’t commit suicide. That is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, and there is no way to change your mind and come back from it.  I hope it helps you, if you are having trouble with feeling accepted.


Why can’t people accept me just the way I am.

For I am perfectly made according to the Master’s plan.

They shouldn’t see my fatness as a most important part.

But rather look more closely and see what’s in my heart.

I have a lot of love to give, a most important thing.

It’s helped me get through everyday, and made me want to sing.

Instead they are picking at the way I wear my hair.

But I like it the way God gave it to me to wear.

But I listened to what others said and had my hair cut short.

A friend gave me a permanent, now I’m in style and a sport.

But now I feel all sad inside, and I failed another test.

For I liked my hair the way God styled it the best.

A friend saw a vision of me as thin and pretty she said.

So that means another diet, I think I’d rather be dead.

Why is my size so important, or the way I wear my hair?

How can I ever have anything except for utter despair?

I’d like to live somewhere in a cave, away from any town.

With someone that loved and accepted me, and didn’t put me down.

With my hair cut and a permanent, people say I’m on the right track.

And soon as I lose my weight, I’ll be fighting the guys off my back.

All this really bothers me, Worse than it ever has before.

Because on the real me, everybody’s closed the door.

My whole body is in turmoil, my stomach is so upset.

Things aren’t getting any better, I think it’s time to quit.

Jesus is my savior, so Heaven is my final home.

I know he won’t turn me away.

He’ll welcome me with open arms.

Other than accepting Jesus, and asking Him into my heart,

His love is unconditional, and that,s the very best part.

I don’t have to do anything to my hair, or go on a diet to get thin.

He’ll never ever turn me away, His arms are always open for me to come in.

When I taught the little children, I was as happy as can be.

For no matter what my hair style or my size,

They always loved and accepted me.

I showered them with Jesus love.

Peace and happiness did abound.

This was the best time of my life. With the children all around.

From Sunday to Wednesday to Sunday, I could hardly wait.

For my time with them, was my most important date.

But then I got sick, and my teaching I had to quit.

This was hard for me to accept, the pain I still can’t lick.

For these children were my whole world, outside my regular work.

I miss them more than words can say, I can’t explain the constant hurt.

For now I have no purpose in life, never a mother, no longer a teacher or wife.

None of these were my decision, but now have become my plight.

I’m not as strong as I used to be, I can’t handle the turmoil or strife.

And no one can accept me for me, I am only existing, I have no real life.

All that is within me, has cried a river of tears.

There is no way to calm me, everything just multiplies all my fears.

I feel the end is very near, and finally I’ll have peace.

For Jesus will take away all pain and fear.

And from all turmoil and strife, I’ll get permanent release.

June 25, 1988