One day I checked my heart and I came to realize pride was stealing my joy. In the house I grew up in, I refused to be content because I hated the idea of being gentle, soft, and vulnerable .. (my rawest truest form) in the presence of individuals who I felt hurt, rejected, and triggered by. I struggled to break away from stagnation and create new habits and routines because to move forward meant I would have to embrace an environment that strongly reminded me of a past stained by how others felt I should behave and go about being myself. Pride had me feeling disappointed that I had not yet “moved on” or proven I was a “new and improved successful woman” who had outgrown internalizing negativity from the outside world. Pridefulness made it difficult to move forward from an authentic place — a place less about proving my worth and more about personal inner growth. Pride allowed me to create a false sense of strength and control.. it helped fortify the walls I had built around myself. But, what it could not do was was allow me the space to make peace with the present moment and the imperfections that came with it.
