With every passing year I thought I was there, I was at the point of complete acceptance, understanding, and maturity. I knew I was born an old soul, not your average Jane, I knew it, I knew I was a tad different. Call it narcissism, vanity, or plain big "headedness" (if such word exists).
But I'm there finally at that point. At the point of knowing I'm a complete woman, figuratively speaking, at last I am. I'm proud of myself, proud of my ability to process what life throws at me, proud of my ability to fight for what I want/believe in, proud of my mentality and acceptance, proud of my flaws, proud of ability to assess and adjust, proud of my insanity. I'm my own proud mother!
Wait. I'll say it before you do, yes I'm up my own ass, but, to hell with it. How many of you are proud of yourselves and the person you've turned out to be? How many of you can say I turned out to be a decent human being with morals and values? Etc etc..
I am. Surely it doesn't make sense to you. But I'm damn proud of how I turned out to be. If I had a child I would love for them to turn out just like I have. Its acceptance of oneself that makes you see the world with clearer vision. I'm surrounded by many that haven't crossed that threshold yet, it saddens me that they haven't shined, flourished, and grown even though the years have.
Realization leads to inner peace.
And that is priceless!