Wednesday.
Just a word, but to me at eight years old,
It felt like a wall that I couldn’t get past 

The letters alone made my stomach turn,
It felt like the world was speeding past me
While I was frozen in place.

We had reading tests at school.
Meant to check how well we could read,
but to me, they felt like measuring
my confidence, my worth, if I belonged

Test day came.
The room was cold and quiet,
my hands trembled, my mind a riot
“Read the fourth sentence,” the proctor said.
I pronounced Wednesday incorrectly
“You can stop now.”                                                                                                       Just like that my confidence was dead

But I didn’t falter.
I practiced. I struggled. I practiced again.
Every word I got right
felt like light being shed in the dark

When the retake came,
I was nervous, but fear didn’t control me.
Wednesday came out clear.
I passed.
I had climbed that wall.

By the end of the year,
I was up to Z, reading alongside my friends.
Wednesday taught me that failure
can be a step forward.
Mistakes don’t define who you are.
Walls can be climbed