Am I really the good person I believe I am? Or have I simply become fluent in excusing the parts of me I would condemn in someone else? Have I simply become skilled at forgiving my wrongdoings before anyone else gets the chance? Do I call it wisdom when it is only convenience? Do I call it honesty when it costs me nothing? I have called my flaws "being human," and my silence "keeping the peace." Perhaps my kindness is selective. Perhaps my patience has conditions. How many people are still holding grudges against a version of me I've already outgrown? I have judged hearts using actions, yet begged to have mine judged by intentions. The mirror has never argued with me. It only returned the face I was willing to see. So today, I ask not to be called good, but to be shown where goodness in me still has room to grow.