Something I love about myself

I like myself. I like who I am and who I've evolved into over the past few years. And yet, I've had a hell of a time with this topic. I love many things about myself. I think we all do, even if it's only in private. But to write about it? Put it out on the public table for consumption, scrutiny?

Maybe it's not even any of that. Maybe it's that we, well I, are not programmed to look at things we love about ourselves and share them. Out loud. You're raised to be humble. Confident but humble. In my case, brought up to be confident and let my actions speak for themselves. Not such a bad thing right?

However, getting to it already. What I love about myself. Not the most, just something I love.

My tenacity.

The definition is as follows:

Tenacious - To hold fast. Not easily pulled apart. Cohesive. Tough. Sticky. Persistent in maintaining or adhering to something valued. Strong.

Strong.

I love the strength I was born into this life with.

I'm a bit of a perfectionist, and yes, my friends who really know me are laughing right now because of the understated nature of that. My point is that, being that way, being tougher then the average person, more cohesive, stickier, if you will, I've pushed myself to do things. Do them well. At times exceedingly well.

Things that most people only dream of doing. Some things that people are terrified of doing just due to the sheer difficulty of it. Things that most people don't consider themselves strong enough to do. Although I think if any of us dug down deep, there's nothing we couldn't accomplish.

I've done this in various areas, but each has taken different kinds of strength. Emotional, physical, mental.

I've been a Marine. Ooh Rah. Completed boot camp out of Parris Island. One of the toughest 13 weeks of rigorous physical and mental training you'll ever experience. And I loved it.

I had to leave my three and a half year old son to do this. The emotional strength it took to do that will always rival any other type of strength I had to use there.

I've cared for an ill family member when I was young. Sacrificing activities that kids my age would have been involved in, friends, all of those things. I was a child raising children and had strength even then.

I've been a single mother. Do I even have to say how many types of strength that takes? Doubtful. It takes them all.

I've had to remain steadfast and within the law when someone took my child without permission. For a long amount of time. The law won out, but the strength I had during that was at such a high level that I may never, and hope to never, experience again.

I've had the strength to stare death in the face and survive. To hold a hand. To fight. To listen. To put my wants and needs aside for others. To give every last ounce, even when I felt like there was nothing left to give. Strong enough to know when I'm weak. And admit it.

I've had and have enough strength to not only help myself, but anyone who's needed it. I don't know where it comes from. I only know that I have it and I am often thankful for it.

So there you have it.

What I love about me.

I'm strong.

Strong enough to write all of this down.

Knowing that I may never myself read it again.