If you've been following my story, you'll see that I like to be slightly dramatic...
I like words, and I like 'em strong and to the point.
These are my thoughts about "my story". What's funny is that in a couple years, I'll probably look back at my choices and see something totally different. Our stories are like that, constantly changing.
Now back to it!
The thing about being good is that it comes with an element of pride attached to it. At least, for me it did. When we think of pride, we think of arrogance, self-centeredness, conceitedness.
Miriam-Webster's even defines it as: "a reasonable or justifiable self-respect".
And that's where I found myself... justified.
I thought that I had made mostly right choices in life.
I worked hard at school.
I was choosy about who my close friends were, they had to be good too.
I chose to join an intense Christian discipleship program after I graduated high school.
I waited for the right husband.
My husband-to-be and I waited til marriage to "get physical" (cue 80's dance tune).
I would like to interject here that, up to that last point, I really do believe I was trying to follow what I thought to be God's plan for my life. And I don't want you to think that I despise those choices now... especially the waiting for the right husband part. I am so blessed in that area, but I will save those thoughts for another post.
So, I respected myself and my choices and took pride in the fact that mine was a good life.
Now, there is another face of pride that is not talked much about. If pride is truly about self at the center, it stands to reason that a low self-esteem would also be an aspect of pride. In my opinion (or experience), pride can think too much of oneself or too little of oneself. I tended to swing back and forth between the two extremes constantly.
I was driven inside by the feeling that I always needed to do a little better, be a little more spiritual, strive a little harder toward perfection. It was the perpetual (and tormenting) thought that there was something just beyond my reach that I could reach if I only tried a little harder. And so I tried harder. Good things seemed to come my way when I strove (aside from the angst inside) and thus, I would celebrate my achievements.
Augustine's definition of pride is this: "The love of one's own excellence."
I was excelling. I was seemingly happy.
But there was trouble a-brewin' just under the surface.
until next time...