How I Learned to Accept Myself

Acceptance. You see it isn’t easy for a short bulky teenager to fit in at school, especially in the 21st Century. I was always clouded with self-doubt and the social stigmas associated with my body. In a sense, my mind was a dinghy constantly drifting on the turbulent seas of adolescence, with grey skies of acceptance looming above. Solemn in nature, yet catastrophic on observation. The end of year holidays of 2014 are ones that I will never forget. I had forty-six days to become “acceptable” and it was time to change my mentality. You see, I had a goal, but with that goal came a state of mental pressure that placed me in shackles. Shackles which encased my hands and feet in metal, comprised of links of chain. You see, breaking these shackles was hard. My mind constantly whispered “You have time. You have time. You have…?” Time?! You see, as time progressed, the links of the chains grew heavier and heavier. They grew further and further apart.

This was the beginning of my downfall. I fell. To my lowest, I fell. To the fathomless pits of self-doubt, I fell. I was lost in loathing, in amongst the murky mud of despair. Never had my mind uttered the word “Believe.” I was a prisoner, and my mind; the prison. Days became weeks and in the confined shackles of prison, I discovered a light. Light in the form of a faint flickering candle. Illuminating a red aluminium exterior of a mountain bike. I grabbed the soft black handlebars, and in that moment, I realised that my shackles were meant to be broken and prison was an excuse to start over. I was thrown a rope by the angels above. A slim rope that could hold my weight and no more. A rope, that to the touch, would blister my hands. A painful rope. It wasn’t the prettiest rope or the strongest, but it was enough to start. You see, that was when my gratitude turned to arrogance and I wished for an elevator or even a flight of stairs, but here I was. Standing, and staring idly above. “This is where I am. That is where I need to be”, my mind declared. If I were to come out of my pit I had to start climbing. And climb I did.

I had finally accepted myself. I started climbing, but it seemed as if I really was given an elevator as I was riding for enjoyment, nothing else. Cycling became a passion, which in turn turned to obsession and without warning became lifestyle. With my new lifestyle, my curiosity of the world grew and so too my sense of adventure. I rode everywhere. After a stressful day, a usual endeavour was a casual ride to the beaches of Darwin. I would slowly unwind to watch one of nature’s beauties. To watch the tides, kiss the shoreline and wash away my troubled thoughts. To hear nothing but the jubilant sounds of the sea. To breathe and let the scent of seawater fill my lungs. You see, my adventures weren’t always physically demanding, they were based on my personal enjoyment. I rode everywhere. I would ride to the city and around the neighbourhood. The more I rode, the more adventurous my trips became and thus exercise was second nature. It all worked out like a simple maths equation. A bike, an adventurous spirit, with the result being fitness.

In the mere forty-six days I changed phenomenally. My mentality and outlook on life became clearer and slowly the storm passed and the skies above started turning blue. You see, the seas that I was battling in the beginning became easier to fight. My little dinghy grew and became a boat, with which I was able to control the seas of life. A stable boat, that I would be able to continue onboard as the years pass by. You see, I was a shy, chubby child most of my life. I was an inconspicuous child in a swarm of students, at a school that prided itself on excellence. For the new year of 2015, I was truly a new me. I was healthier, I was happier, and I had found acceptance in myself. I had worked hard whilst finding enjoyment in my obstacles and the days of despair seemed like only hours. The first day of school was a tough though. It was the first time that my friends and classmates would see me after my physical change. Year 9 in 2015 was the best schooling year that I have ever endured. I made friends outside my normal social circles and the mates that I made in that year really helped me enjoy myself to the fullest. The hard work had paid off. I was not an inconspicuous child anymore, I was recognisable amongst others.

As a teen it’s rather strange to say, but I truly enjoyed school and looked forward to going. School was fun. My social life grew and the quiet, shy lad, became one of the most talkative people you would meet. These days it’s hard to keep this boy quiet for even two minutes. I love it though. I truly do. My teachers not so much, but it’s me enjoying a life I didn’t quite have before. Forty-six days. Those days were meant to make me “acceptable”, however it was a fantastic learning experience. I learnt a lot about myself and how perception can bring a person to their knees. I learnt to accept life’s obstacles and learnt to follow my passions. I challenged myself to be accepted and I learnt that anything is attainable with the right frame of mind. You just need to see the light at the end of the tunnel or, in my case, find the candle within your prison.