My pride will be my greatest downfall.

Thinking back to my friendships and relationships where we fell out over time, I realized that one of the common factors was my pride.

I was too proud to admit when I was wrong, when I made a mistake.

If you saw me five years ago, you probably wouldn’t recognize me.

Back then, I apologized for everything. If I walked into a table, I’d say “Sorry” to the table itself. That’s how apologetic I felt for merely existing.

Years later, I found myself unable to apologize for things I’d done before. Because two words hardly seemed to suffice.

Saying “I’m sorry” doesn’t cut it if it’s not backed by action. At least, that’s what I believe.

I’ve been struggling to practice what I preach, knowing all too well how proud and self-righteous I can be sometimes.

When I watched Rent recently, I didn’t like Maureen. And I realize it was because she embodied some of the characteristics I disliked about myself: friendly to the point of flirty, boisterous, and a tad on the crazy side.

It’s funny because plenty of people expect me to be bubbly and superficial, but once I show my contemplative side, they realize that I’m someone to be taken seriously after all.

But anyway. I’m too proud of how I got to where I am today. And sometimes, it’s hard for me to say, “You know what? You’re right.” in the moment.

My way to deal with this problem is to say, “You’re not wrong.” This is kind of a compromise between admitting when I fuck up and maintaining some sense of self or dignity during moments I’m not proud of.

Still working on it, though.

But I do believe that my pride will be my greatest downfall.

Practicing real humility can be hard, but I think it makes you all the more stronger for it.