Sometimes, disappointment slaps me in the face. I don’t get the role I wanted. I don’t get into that summer intensive. I don’t do so well on a test.
But like a phoenix, I will rise out of my own defeat.
Sometimes, I have to face things I don’t want to: challenging decisions, the unpredictable future, the reality of life. Sometimes, I have to see the world through older eyes.
Like bread, I will rise out of my innocence.
My friends and family have different effects on me based on the day. But whether there are tears in my eyes or I’m radiating with confidence, they’re always there for me.
A picture of toast to fill my phone storage, a text from someone I haven’t seen in a while, a song coming down the hall filling the cracks in my door, a concert as loud as possible to make the dishes take longer, a routine hello, even just knowing someone is one call away if I get lonely reminds me of the strength I hold.
If I ever feel like popping, someone will catch me.
Like Carl from Up, I will rise to the sky, stronger with each added balloon.
Every time I get pushed down—usually by myself or my thoughts based on others’ actions—I struggle to bounce back like a weeble wobble. I see my flaws grow. The mirror distorts the image to what I don’t want to see.
I talk myself out of my confidence. I say, what are you thinking? You’ll never be that good. One day goes by with bountiful compliments, and the next I’m a pile of garbage waiting for Tuesday pickup.
But like the sun, I will rise every day no matter how dark the night was yesterday.
Like falling off pointe, I will just breathe, plié, and try again.
And like a phoenix, I will rise out of my own defeat and I will come back stronger than I’ve ever known, more confident than I believe, and brighter than I’ve ever been.