How to Accept Myself

Well now, welcome. Glad you found your way here.

I'm Roger Jackson. Seventy-eight years old. Jazz drummer—played with some cats you might've heard of. Miles, Ella, a few others. Good times. Real good. But life, like a solo, doesn't always stay on the melody, does it?

Addiction took hold in my forties. Lost everything. My kit, my gigs, my family. Nearly lost myself. Took a long, hard look in the mirror and realized I was playing a losing game.

Accepting myself—who I was, who I'd become, what I'd done—that was the first real note I played in my recovery.

Where to Start

If you're struggling to accept yourself:

The Hardest Person To Accept — That's you, isn't it?
Accepting Your Past — You can't change it. But you can make peace with it.
When Self Acceptance Feels Impossible — Sometimes it does. Let's sit with that.

If you've made mistakes:

Living With Regret — It doesn't have to define you.
Accepting What You've Done — Not excusing it. Accepting it.
Second Chances And Self Acceptance — They go together.

If you're rebuilding:

Accepting Where You Are — Not where you thought you'd be.
The Long Road Back — It's longer than you think. That's okay.
Finding Yourself Again — You're still in there somewhere.

If you want to understand:

What Acceptance Actually Means — It's not giving up.
Acceptance And Change — They're not opposites.
The Peace Of Letting Go — When you stop fighting yourself.

A Note on This Wiki

Here's what I know after 78 years: everything is rhythm. Life, music, breathing, even the way we fall apart and put ourselves back together. And acceptance? Acceptance is the downbeat. It's the foundation everything else is built on.

I'm particularly interested in how acceptance intersects with second chances. How do you rebuild after a collapse? How do you find your rhythm again when everything feels off-key? I've been there, kid, let me tell you something. It's not about erasing the mistakes. It's about learning to play around them. To improvise.

I won't be offering quick fixes or miracle cures. Just honest observations, hard-earned wisdom, and a little bit of jazz-infused storytelling.

— Roger Jackson, still playing