Pride Often Looks Like Humility

I'm moving again.

Again.

It's the wise thing to do. It's the better thing to do.

But I'm sad about it.

I feel sad because I think I failed.

I'm moving to an apartment I can afford, and I can pay off debts and I can save money.

That also means I'm moving to a smaller apartment with less amenities like a washer and dryer.

Smaller to me in this moment means it's not as good.

I'm anticipating finding things that are disappointing.

I'm expecting to hate it there.

So I'm sad.

I'm also feeling really lonely and like I'm a burden to the people who have offered to help me move.

I know the truth. I know I'm not a burden. I know I'm not alone.

I've learned something about myself recently.

I have to get even.

In order for things to feel balanced and fair, I have to get even.

You do me a favor, I'll show up for you without being asked.

You surprise me. I'll surprise you back.

You help me move, I'll buy you dinner.

Here's the thing though...

That's not love.

That's not kind.

That's not honest.

That's pride.

Pride saying I'm not good enough to be helped without motive.

Pride saying my friends and family only help me because they want something in return.

Pride convincing me that people will help, even offer, even insist and hate me for living on top floor apartments.

Pride reminding me that I can't afford to pay them back in a tangible way.

Pride making sure I feel alone and like a burden.

What a lesson in humility.

What a lesson to just take it.

Take the love.

Take the help.

Take the blessing.

That's it. Just taking it.