When Was the Last Time...

... that you were proud of yourself? Properly 'wow, I'm actually pretty awesome aren't I?' proud.

I'd typed out a message to my friend Vicky (whom I visited in Berlin not too long ago), bemoaning all the stuff I've gotten myself into and how relentlessly busy I've become- partially to block out my fear of the future, partially because of the 'just say yes' policy I've come to loosely adopt in order to stop myself from being the social recluse I once was. I was just internally reflecting upon how I must be some kind of idiot to take on so much, when Vicky's reply popped up.

'I know you don't mean it but .... stop making me feel bad! I feel so lazy...'

I blinked. Lazy? Vicky? 'Mate', I thought to myself, 'You up and went to Germany for two years just like that to teach English, having known no-one in the country beforehand, became really proficient at German as a language itself, you're teaching yourself Russian now- successfully for such a difficult language, too- and you're also about to go to Peru to learn Spanish and travel!'

It's funny isn't it, the way we perceive ourselves? It made me realise how I'm just as guilty of ignoring my good points as anyone else (except for maybe two of my friends, who are unusually exceptional- especially for a couple of fellow Brits- at recognising their own amazingness; I say this with no guile).

I, like anyone else, suffer from that horrible, mean little thing called Envy. I envy Vicky, for doing what I've always wanted to do and travelling by herself to discover the world, carving out her own path by her own terms, whereas I'm too cowardly. I envy Lucia, who goes on trips away with their friendship groups in Birmingham that are too awkward for me to join in on, being in a different city. I envy Toria, who makes friends so easily, and keeps them. I envy all my friends who have their own houses while I'm a City Statistic still living with my parents, trying to save for an elusive place in London. And let's not even go into the envy I feel for people I don't even know.

If, up until just now, you'd have asked me when the last time I felt proud of myself was, I'd probably have replied '2006.' Now I know how ridiculous this is.

This isn't a brag post; I won't list the things I've found to be proud of for myself. But I have found some, all the same. The thing to remember is not to be the best of everything- that's impossible, and few even get to be the best at anything- but to be the best at being yourself. Cliché, but no less true now than when you were told this in nursery.

It's pretty much impossible to see ourselves the way other people do. The best guide we can have is to try and understand the way our friends see us: after all, surely they wouldn't be our friends if we were as ineffective and silly as we thought we were, right? I know I'm proud of my friends, and know that they're all amazing people with their own amazing qualities. Logically, it stands to reason that the feeling is mutual.

So if ever any of you have a 'God, why am I so useless?' moment (as we all have, sometimes), remember how your friends see you, and know that even if you can't understand it yourself, your friends admire and respect you for a reason.