As a child, I hated swimming.
I was always alone,
My small legs and arms seemingly paddling endlessly,
Muscles reaching a point of exhaustion,
And a feeling of emptiness growing inside me.
I used to think: What was this for?
A sense of satisfaction? A sense of calm? A sense of happiness?
I saw nothing but negativity.
I was sore, bored, unhappy and alone.
Why would I want to continue?
Entering college was when I found myself stranded in an ocean,
The yellow waves of anxiety surrounded me.
I found myself pushed by these waves with weights on my shoulders and rocks tied around my ankles.
I felt as though I was drowning.
The moment I overcame one wave, it seemed as though another came crashing down.
It would push me under once again and leave me gasping for air.
But along with the waves and the storm came the peace;
The moments the sky was clear and the ocean was calm.
In these moments, I realized I had survived.
I was pushed around and shoved under water,
But I was still here.
It was the moments of calm where I recognized how my abilities had grown.
No longer was I a little child who got out of the pool when the sky turned gray,
Now I was an adult who stuck through it and came out stronger.
My responsibilities never weighed me down, my stress and anxiety never drowned me, and my negativity didn't pull me under.
I kept fighting, something I didn't think I would be able to say before.
And here I am,
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