When Would My Ship Roll In?

In the hush of the morning, as the first tendrils of sunlight laced through the window’s lattice, I cradled my coffee mug, a vessel filled with a warm, aromatic brew that welcomed the day with a tender, loving embrace. The steam pirouetted in the dawning light, swirling into existence and then fading just as swiftly. I let the heat from the ceramic vessel seep into my palms, as though drawing strength from it, and took a contemplative sip, my mind lost in the ebb and flow of my thoughts.

I found myself pondering an age-old question, wrapped in the cloak of metaphor: when would my ship roll in?

For years, this query had accompanied me like a faithful shadow, patiently lurking in the corners of my consciousness. As a girl, I had sketched the outlines of that ship in my dreams, each mast a beacon of hope, each sail a promise of future triumphs.

However, today, as I sipped my coffee, an epiphany danced before me, a sudden beam of understanding that shattered my abstract musings. A joyful revelation washed over me, as exhilarating as the burst of caffeine, a tingling sensation that echoed the sparkling dawn outside.

The ship I had been yearning for wasn’t sailing towards me from some distant horizon; it had been here all along, anchored in the quiet harbor within my own heart. I was the captain of my fate, the master of my soul, standing tall at the helm, the world my oyster, ready for the taking. And this understanding filled me with a euphoria that was brighter than the morning sun.

Now, was my time to shine, with a golden radiance of self-belief. The callow, naive girl I once was had finally flourished into a woman of substance, strength and elegance. Every hurdle, every tribulation I had encountered along my journey had not served to diminish me, but rather, they had added to my character, etching depth and resilience into my being.

My beauty wasn’t just skin deep, but rather, it lay in the fortitude of my spirit. The respect I had yearned for wasn’t something to be bestowed upon me by others, but something that was born from self-love, self-acceptance, and relentless perseverance. The admiration I sought was not in the eyes of the beholders, but in the mirror of my self-perception.

In that moment, I realized, with a newfound sense of certainty, that it was my turn to be beautiful, respected, and admired. It wasn’t an external appraisal I sought, but an inner affirmation, a deep, resonant understanding that I finally embodied all that I had aspired to be.

June 6, 2023


  • Stuart Danker

    It is truly a magical thing when the self accepts self. I’ve yet to find that in various parts of my life, so it’s amazing to see you coming to this epiphany. What’s even better is that it happened in the part of the day I enjoy the most. Nothing beats the hot-beverage-in-the-morning timing. Thanks for sharing this!

    • Thomas Slatin

      In my own quest, I have learned that acceptance is not a destination but an ongoing process. It requires patience, courage, and a willingness to embrace all facets of oneself, even the shadows that dwell within. And yet, my greatest moments of introspection typically occur during my morning routine.

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