I’m Proud Of Where I Am

I’m proud of the heartbreaks I’ve endured. Of the fact that I’ve left toxic men in the past instead of dragging them along to my present.

I’m proud of the self-worth I’ve obtained. That I no longer accept halfhearted love or laziness or lack of effort. That I realize I’m a worthy of affection. Worthy of greatness, in life and in love.

I’m proud of the knowledge I’ve acquired. There are things that my hands and heart are capable of doing now that I never thought possible as a teenager. Things that seemed unachievable that I somehow proved possible.

I’m proud of the friendships I’ve made. Of how I’ve turned complete strangers — people that could’ve walked by without making a tremor in my world — into lifelong friends. That I’ve found people I can count on. That I can truly trust.

I’m proud of what I’ve decided to do with my life. I haven’t reached full success yet, but I finally know which direction I’m planning on taking. I know what I want. And I know I’m going to get it.

I’m proud of how much I’ve grown. That I’m no longer the shy little girl riddled with questions. I still experience stress. I still suffer from anxiety. But I have a better handle on my emotions. A better grasp on my reality.

I’m proud of my appearance. Although I have insecurities, I no longer cringe when I look in the mirror. I no longer cry when a photograph comes out wrong. I’ve learned to accept my body, just as I’ve learned to accept my soul.

I’m proud of the lives I’ve shaped. Of the dog that I’ve raised. Of the boyfriends I’ve spoiled. Of the friends I’ve made even a minuscule impact on.

I’m proud of my blossoming social skills. That I’m no longer held back by the idea of the unknown. That I can make a simple phone call. Engage in chitchat. Flirt with a stranger at a party.

I’m proud of where I came from. I’m not ashamed to admit the faults of my dysfunctional family, because their errors have shaped me into the human I am today. They’ve transformed me into something even bigger than them, even brighter.

I’m proud that my heart is still beating. There was a time when I never thought I’d make it this far into my future. That I was a victim, not a survivor. But I’ve proved myself wrong. I’ve proved that I’m strong enough to withstand whatever pain I’m brought. That I belong in this twistedly beautiful universe. 

I’m proud of where I am. I’m proud of who I am.