I’ve always thought that words of affirmation aren’t my forte. It’s not because I’m bad with words, but because I’m bad at receiving them. When people say, “You’re the best,” or “I’m proud of you,” those words don’t really affect me. It’s not that I don’t trust them—I know that I’m capable and good at what I do. The problem is that, somehow, no matter how much effort I put in, I rarely feel like it was enough.
I vividly remember feeling sad during my university graduation ceremony. I was confused when I saw my friends looking so happy after the university announced that we had passed, because to me, it felt like a given. Nothing special—it was simply something that was expected to happen. On the other hand, I knew how hard I had worked on my thesis; I wrote it with my blood, sweat, and tears. Yet, I still couldn’t feel proud of myself. Ever since then, I’ve been trying to find a way to genuinely feel proud of who I am.
For years, I tested a personal hypothesis. I thought that in order to feel proud of myself, I had to accomplish something grand and spectacular—like joining prestigious communities, working at the national level, or collecting numerous achievements. I’ve done all those things, but that feeling never arrived.
It was deeply frustrating. What was I supposed to do instead? The more I tried to achieve great things, the more drained I became—because I was only doing them to prove something that continued to elude me.
So, I gave up on chasing that feeling. Instead, I started focusing on doing what I love consistently. To maintain that consistency, I built a solid system for my life and committed myself to it. I can confidently say that I excel at self-discipline. Even when no one cheers for me, applauds me, or offers support, I can keep moving forward quietly on my own.
I’ve been strict with myself in order to stay committed to my system. I created my workout plan and followed it. I maintained my learning schedule even when there was a movie I wanted to watch at the same time. I showed up when I was happy, when I was tired, when I was unmotivated, and even when I was crying. My only goal was to keep showing up, because the system itself was what kept me moving forward.
Even though I’ve been hard on myself, ironically, it has taught me to become more compassionate toward myself. There are days when I don’t feel like doing anything, but I still choose to work out or read a book. In those moments, I find myself thinking, “Wow, Edi. You did it. You overcame your laziness and showed up anyway. Well done.”
Did you notice that? I said, “Well done,” to myself. And for the first time, I truly felt it. I finally felt proud of myself.
I never imagined that the feeling I had been searching for would come from something so ordinary.
Pride doesn’t come from standing under a bright spotlight on a grand stage. It comes from the commitments I make to myself and the promises I choose to keep. The most beautiful thing is that these small efforts create a compound effect. Because I keep showing up consistently, the results continue to grow over time.
Now, for the first time, I can truly say that I am proud of myself. Not because I have achieved something extraordinary, but because I have learned to choose myself—again and again, every single day.
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