Off my high horse

It [love] does not boast, it [love] is not proud

I have a very hard time accepting criticism. That's a character-flaw admittance front and center. I hate when people search for something wrong to point out to me. I hate it because I soon allow it to consume me. Ravenously, I let words devour my self-esteem like a caterpillar gnawing at a leaf. I should be optimistic and realize that these nutrients devoured will soon encourage the metamorphosis into a butterfly.

But, no, that isn't me.

I brood. I ruminate, I turn into a cow about things. I chew on it and then digest it, then spit it up and chew on it some more. I find it nearly impossible to let it go, to swallow it and take it in and let my body grow from the knowledge stored.

What does this have anything to do with pride and boasting? It seems to me, Ashley that you are one who doesn't struggle with pride and boasting, but the opposite. Self-deprecation is what I see in you, at best.

Oh no, you see, my dear reader, if I didn't struggle with my pride, it wouldn't always be getting my feelings hurt.

In Ashley's book of definitions for words, I've turned pride to be something simplistic like this: "thinking you are better than you really are."

So of course, pride seems less foggy in connection to my self-deprecation and pessimistic caterpillar tendencies.

If I wasn't always going around believing that I was better than the criticism, the criticism wouldn't sting. If I didn't believe that I was above reproach then I wouldn't get so offended.

Love doesn't boast and it doesn't get proud. I am a very proud person. Jesus wasn't.

I need to start seeing that I am a work in progress.