Who would you be if your flaws didn’t exist?

“Everything wild gets pulled.” A thought I had while reading Sex at Dawn by Christopher Ryan.

In the garden, the plants that grow without permission are called weeds—unruly, unwelcome, something to be cut down before they take over. But what is a weed, really? A dandelion is only unwanted because someone decided a lawn should be smooth and uniform. A thistle is only invasive because it refuses to be tamed.

And it’s not just plants.

Anything that doesn’t fit the mold becomes a problem to be fixed. A child who is loud and free-spirited is labeled disruptive. A person who seeks altered states of consciousness is told they have an addiction. A woman who embraces her raw sexuality is shamed, policed, or feared. Mental wanderings that don’t adhere to a clear path are classified as neurosis. If it doesn’t fit, it must be tamed.

But what if we’ve been looking at it all wrong?

Reframing the Weeds of Our Lives

Weeds aren’t inherently bad—they’re just survivors. They take root in the cracks of sidewalks, thrive in forgotten places, and refuse to be silenced. The same could be said for the parts of ourselves that don’t conform. The desires, the emotions, the ways we cope, the ways we love, the ways we think—what if these were never flaws, but simply wild truths that haven’t been given space to grow?

What if addiction isn’t a moral failure, but an attempt to reconnect with something lost?

What if mental illness isn’t brokenness, but an indicator that something in our world is unnatural?

What if sexuality isn’t something to control, but something to honor?

Instead of pulling, cutting, and shaming these aspects of ourselves, what if we tended to them? Who might we become if we made space for the wild aspects of our soul?

What Happens When We Stop Fighting the Fire?

When we try to suppress something, it doesn’t disappear—it flares up in defiance. The more we punish a child for being loud, the more they scream. The more we demonize a desire, the more obsessively it lingers. The more we push away grief, rage, longing, or pleasure, the more they twist themselves into illness, addiction, compulsion. A wildfire only rages when it is deprived of space to burn naturally.

But when we welcome the flame, it softens. When we acknowledge our cravings, they lose their grip. When we honor our desires, they stop controlling us. When we love the parts of ourselves that society calls weeds, we find they were never weeds at all—just wildflowers waiting to bloom.

So, let’s stop pulling. Let’s stop taming. Let’s let the wild things grow.