Pride Wears Two Outfits

As a child, I thought pride was just pride. Like sugar is sugar.

But Grandma knew better. She knew some things look the same until life stirs them into hot water and reveals what they really are. One outfit, she said, is clean and dignified. The other is expensive-looking but dangerous.

"There is good pride and there is bad pride. One will build you. The other will bury you."

If you've ever found it hard to say "I'm sorry," "I need help," or "I was wrong," pull up a chair. I've been there, in heels and a bad attitude.

Objection! Context! Mercury in retrograde!

One season, I made a mistake at work. A very human mistake. Not "call the FBI" level, but enough that it needed to be acknowledged and fixed.

Someone kindly pointed it out. And instead of accepting it with grace, I let my pride clock in before my wisdom did.

Suddenly I was defending myself like I was in a courtroom drama. In my head, I was giving an award-winning performance: Objection! Misunderstanding! Context! Technical difficulties! Mercury in retrograde! Anything but a simple, grown-person apology.

The truth was, I didn't want to look incompetent. So for a few hours, I protected my ego like it was a newborn baby. All I really did was make a small issue wear bigger shoes.

That evening, I heard Grandma's voice: "Pride will make a little fire into a house problem."

The next day, I went back and did the thing my pride had tried to stop me from doing. I apologised. No dramatic speech. No excuses dressed up as explanations.

The world did not end. Nobody fainted. Trumpets did not sound in the distance. Humility cleared in five minutes what pride had complicated for hours.

The two outfits

Grandma never said all pride is bad. Healthy pride is why you iron your clothes before an interview, study hard before an exam, and leave certain nonsense unread and unreplied to. It washes its face, minds its business, and knows when to walk away.

Unhealthy pride is the troublemaker. It whispers, Don't apologise. Don't ask for help. Don't admit you were wrong. It dresses up as confidence, but underneath all that noise is fear: of looking foolish, of being corrected, of not being the most admired person in the room.

Healthy pride says

Unhealthy pride says

"I know who I am. I will not dishonour myself."

"Do not apologise. Do not admit you were wrong."

"I am too valuable to act beneath my character."

"I am too important to admit I have character flaws."

Apologise when you're wrong, but don't crawl when you're not.

Would rather be right than be at peace.

Leads to maturity.

Leads to downfall.

She would shake her head and say, "Some people would rather drown looking strong than be saved looking needy."

And she taught me that humility is not thinking less of yourself. It is thinking of yourself clearly. Not too high, not too low, just accurately. You can celebrate yourself without worshipping yourself.

Which outfit are you wearing?

Grandma warned that pride isn't always loud. Sometimes it is silent: the refusal to speak first, the need to always look unbothered. And it doesn't only hurt us at work. It ends conversations love could have saved, and keeps two people waiting for the other to move first while both secretly miss each other.

Here are a few gentle checks:

1. Notice when you get defensive. If you're building a courtroom case in your head, pride may have clocked in before wisdom.

2. Practise the short apology. "I'm sorry. I'll fix it." No speech needed.

3. Ask for help once this week. Being teachable is not the same as being weak.

4. Be the one who speaks first. If there's a silence you've been waiting out, break it.

5. Keep your standards, too. Humility isn't self-abandonment. Apologise when you're wrong, and don't crawl when you're not.

As Grandma put it: if you humble yourself, life may teach you gently. If you refuse, life may teach you publicly.

Don't trip over your own crown

When I think of pride now, I picture Grandma sorting beans with one hand and life lessons with the other, reminding me that not everything that makes you stand tall is good for you. Some things lift your chin while hardening your heart. Some things look like strength, but are really just fear in church clothes.

And I hear her, plain and direct: "Carry the kind of pride that keeps you clean. Drop the kind that keeps you stuck."

Be proud enough to respect yourself. Be humble enough to correct yourself. Be confident enough to know your value. Be wise enough to know you are not above apology, growth, or grace.

So here is my question for you: is there an "I'm sorry" or an "I need help" you've been holding back? What would it cost you to say it this week, and what might it save?

Share in the comments if you're brave. Humility loves company.

There's more of Grandma's wisdom on pride, respect and humility in Grandma Always Said.

Because healthy pride will help you walk with dignity. But unhealthy pride will have you tripping over your own crown.

With love,

Emmah