Ten Things I’ve Finally Learned to Like About Myself

Somewhere between delivering goat kids and training a pack of dogs to championship titles, I started to see something in myself worth liking. But I’ll be honest—it wasn’t easy. For most of my life, I’ve been better at pointing out my flaws than celebrating my strengths. Give me a mirror, and I’ll show you my mood swings, my chaotic kitchen drawer of unfinished projects, the pile of missteps I haven’t forgiven myself for.

But one day, while laughing at a friend’s joke during a dog show—right after receiving an award that took twenty years to earn—I realized: maybe I’m not so bad. Maybe I’m someone I’d root for, if only I could see myself the way others do.

So I made a list. Not of failures or to-dos, but of things I genuinely like about myself. Some of them came hard-won. Others were quiet truths that had been there all along.

1. I Can Do Things Others Don’t Expect

I may not know my way around an engine or be brave enough to rewire a wall, but I can raise my own food, milk a goat, deliver a litter of puppies, dig post holes, fix toilets, and run my own water lines. These aren’t glamorous skills, but they’re real. In a world so focused on convenience, I’ve learned how to be self-sufficient—and I’m proud of that. If the world fell apart tomorrow, I’d survive. Maybe even thrive.

2. I’m Not Just Intelligent—I'm Curious

I’ve always done well academically, but what I value more than grades is curiosity. Being "smart" helps, sure, but it’s my hunger to understand how things work that has led me to some of my proudest accomplishments—both practical and philosophical. My brain doesn’t just memorize. It asks questions. It digs in. And that has opened up the world to me in ways I’m still exploring.

3. I’m Practical—Even If That Means Sacrificing Shiny Things

I drive an old Suburban with a trailer hitch. It’s not pretty. But it hauls hay, fits six dogs, and doesn’t complain when we hit muddy roads on the way to a conformation show. Once upon a time, I dreamed of a shiny Corvette Stingray in metallic blue. But dreams evolve. I’ve traded flash for function, and though I still sigh at that memory, I don’t regret the choice. I’ve built a life around what works—not just what looks good.

4. I Give Everything I’ve Got

Even when I fail, I do so fully committed. I’ve learned that effort matters as much as outcome. When I tackle something—be it a project, a relationship, or a goal—I do it with my whole heart. I show up. I try again. I keep going, even after the learning curve leaves me bruised. I think that’s something to admire.

5. I Stick With What Matters

Call it persistence or just plain stubbornness, but when something means something to me, I don’t give up easily. Sure, sometimes that’s a curse—I’ve held onto things, and even people, far longer than I should have. But more often than not, that stubborn streak has led me to victories others gave up on too soon. My sticktoitiveness is how I got that dog show title after two decades. It's how I’ve built my little world, one challenge at a time.

6. I Have a Quiet Faith That Grounds Me

I’m not a Sunday regular. My anxiety and depression often keep me home, curled under blankets while the world spins. But despite that, I believe. I’ve seen too many moments of grace to ignore. I know I’m not alone. And though I may not express it the way some do, my faith is woven into every corner of my life. It keeps me humble, keeps me grateful, and helps me believe in something bigger than my struggles.

7. I Write to Understand Myself and the World

Writing is where I find my voice. It’s the only place where my thoughts don’t get jumbled or lost. I’ve been told my nonfiction has clarity, my horror stories creep people out (in a good way), and my humor—well, it makes people laugh, even if it’s mostly accidental. Writing helps me share parts of myself that words sometimes fail to carry in conversation. And through writing, I’ve built connection, understanding, and healing.

8. I’m Loved by the Animals I Love

My animals know the parts of me I try to hide. When my thoughts race, or my mood drops into the dark, they curl beside me. They nudge me out of bed. They know when I need to be seen. Their love isn’t transactional. It’s instinctive. And though I care for them—feed, train, shelter—it’s what they give back that reminds me I’m lovable. My little Leela, who once seemed indifferent to everything, now waits for me by the door. That means something. That means everything.

9. I’ve Learned to Be Kinder with My Words

I used to judge. Harshly. Especially in the early days of showing dogs, I’d point out what I didn’t like in a dog’s gait or build without a second thought. One day, I said something too sharp, and a friend called me out. Hard. She reminded me that every dog is someone’s heart. That every critique should come with care. I’ve since learned how to lead with the positive—even when I must be honest. That lesson has stretched into my relationships with people, too. I try to ask: How would I feel, hearing this? And then I speak with more compassion.

10. I’m Still Growing—and That’s Enough

Maybe the best thing I’ve learned to like about myself is that I haven’t stopped trying. I still have dark days. I still lose things, forget birthdays, leave projects unfinished. But I’m trying to be better. Not perfect—just better. I’m trying to offer grace, not just to others, but to myself. I’m learning that the pursuit of being a good person matters more than the title. And that maybe, just maybe, I’m already someone worth admiring.

Thank you for reading...

Regards: Fazal Hadi