A Poem For Your 30th Birthday

As I turned 30 this year, I began letting go off psychic garbage to ascend to my goals. I gifted myself a poem to fill up the excess space. I wish you fill your space wisely.


Know it’s not for you.

People weighing like canons,

They’re not for you.

You feel like an alien,

An Outsider,

Always speaking out of turn,




When you need them,

They’re not around for you.

And that is okay

Not everything in this world

Has to be Yours.

Not Everything is built for you.

At 30, know what’s yours.

Know why,

Know where,

Know who.

And yet know that someday,

It may all change.

And that’s normal.

Not everything is made for you.

You’re not a broken vending machine.

Of happiness,

Of niceness,

Of giving approval.

To everyone willing

To kick you around.

You’re not entitled to their crap.

They’re not entitled to your sanity.

That’s that.

Know it’s not for you.

Perfection is not for you.

The self-hate,

The guilt,

The pain,

The anxiety,

Born of other’s opinions,

Know it’s not for you.

They don’t dictate you,

They do not prove

How worthy you are.

You’re always worthy.


In your imperfection,

Perfection is not made for you.

Not everything is made for you.

Nor do you own everything.

What they decide for you,

Has nothing to do with you.

You’re not social norms,

You’re not beauty standards,

You’re not virtual validation.

That’s not made for you.

Their judgement is not yours.

At 30, you’re free.

Let them be free too.

To rot in their disease.




Are not glamorous words,

Are not permanent guests.

Know they must leave.

Anything that poisons you

Behind sweet words,

Beyond the veil,

Behind a fat pay-check,

Is not for you.

What’s for you

Is already yours.

When you let go

Off all that does not belong.


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