Teeter-Totter of Pride
Lately I've been thinking; pride is tricky. Novels and films often depict a parent conveying pride in his/her child. And while the recipient characters always seem overwhelmed with joy at the parental admission...I don't know. I think sometimes there's just something off about it.
I'm not a biblical person, but I have heard rumors that pride is sinful. Hmm...that doesn't feel quite right either. My gut says there's a very fine line with pride - a teeter-totter of sorts.
Inherently, pride seems to indicate some sort of ownership. Again, I'm totally winging it on the doctrine of this, but perhaps ownership is the issue at stake to relegate it to sin status. If I take ownership of a personal accomplishment, it could be interpreted that I'm dissing the higher power that gifted me the ability to achieve my goal. Of course, one could also argue that feeling proud of myself indicates both my ownership and appreciation for what I am able to offer the world. See what I mean? That doesn't seem so bad, in fact, I believe it honors the gifts, so it's a little tricky.
Growing up my mom clearly stated, time after time, how proud she was of me and how much she believed in me. I liked it. It felt good and true, and in her unfailing belief in me, I knew she had my back. When my grandmother would say the same thing, it felt like she was taking ownership of my accomplishments, my abilities, ultimately, of me! That felt awful. It was more akin to being her possession, whereas with my mom it felt like support.
So, what's the scoop with this pride thing? I'll share that I don't think I've ever once told my step-children, "I'm proud of you." Does that further enhance my evil step-mother status of long ago? I don't know, maybe. For me though, it would feel like taking credit for something that is not mine. I get excited for them. I feel joy at their accomplishments. I am deeply touched by their respective gentleness and vulnerabilities, but my role does not warrant pride. Unwittingly, if I believe the pop culture references, this lack of claim may be hurtful to them, and yet it is out of respect that I shy away from pride in relation to them.
Similarly, I don't think my dad ever told me he felt proud of me. Since I never lived with him, that makes perfect sense to me; and yet, I was his - born of him - so it sits beside a small sense of loss. Had I never done anything to make him feel proud? He didn't know me well, so that could account for part of it, but I suspect he might have walked a tightrope similar to the one I feel about my step-children. Was it really his place?
Ironically, I do occasionally tell my clients I am proud of them. I notice that in each instance I do so with great hesitation and a disclaimer that goes something like, "this is in no way meant to be condescending..." And yet, I do truly feel proud of these willing souls who seek to know themselves better, manifest their greatest self, and delve to deep places and walk on scary ledges to confront and take ownership of their own greatness. Perhaps it's because they invite me to share the journey with them, and more than that, they ask me to carry the flashlight into the dark corners they seek to tread. What an honor for me to walk along beside them. I guess I'm taking ownership for my role in holding the flashlight, and feel enriched by their willingness to look at whatever may be revealed by the glow.
As an after-thought to writing this, I decided to look up the definition of "pride." Turns out, I may be confused for a reason! Here are a few of the descriptions:
A sense of one's own proper dignity or value; self-respect.
Pleasure or satisfaction taken in an achievement, possession, or association. (For me, the word of note is "taken" - yuck!)
Arrogant or disdainful conduct or treatment; haughtiness.
An excessively high opinion of oneself; conceit.
How do you feel about pride? Can you relate to the teeter-totter I describe? Are you absolutely pro or anti-pride? Perhaps you feel there is a distinct time and place that feeling proud is appropriate. I welcome your insights as I allow my curiosity to marinate on this topic.
With love, and perhaps a version of pride,
Joanne Lutz