I do not hear the word ‘pride’ much in my life. Possibly because I refuse to accept it. I cannot accept something I do not evidently see in myself, although I wish I could.

Pride is defined as an emotional feeling of satisfaction derived from one's own achievements or achievements of those with whom one is close to. It sprouts inside the minds of infants and young children, as they develop the emotion much more commonly than youths and adults. As people start to mature into their youth or adulthood, the emotion of pride, surprisingly, decreases in one's self-confidence. Pride becomes less common in people as they get older, and in my case, pride has not shown itself to me enough.

Pride towards me is uncommon. Pride only shows itself to me in the lightest rooms filled with adrenaline and success, with celebration towards my achievements. With friends and family with me putting me in a spotlight, with me saying, “I did it! I have achieved pride!”.

But pride does not come to me often. Anxiety and regret fill up the space, making no room for pride to show itself. Many times, pride has tried to show itself to me: When my parents tell me they are proud of what I have accomplished in my education, friendship, hobbies, and the love I give to others. Pride tries so hard to become noticed and to be accepted by me, but the bully of my mind-- depression-- drives pride away. “Why should I be proud of myself?” I find the answer to that question difficult.

I think, maybe pride does not show itself to me; possibly it shows itself through others I know of. Then I realize, pride does come along often, but not for me. Pride comes when I see someone who is my hero. When I gaze towards my family, friends, companions, I feel it. The feeling I have only felt a few times for myself. Pride. I feel it towards my mother, who makes me proud to be her daughter. I feel it towards my step-father, who has gone so far in his job and now is achieving his career goals. I feel it towards my sister, who makes me proud to be her best friend. I feel it towards my school friend, who suffers from anxiety. When she feels happiness and comfort in those rare times, I feel proud of her.

The role that pride plays in my life is not directed towards me much, and I have learned to accept that. Pride derives itself from the people I care about in my life, and it makes me proud to know them and be their friend. I do feel proud for everything I have in my life, and perhaps that is the secret to feeling pride in myself.