Fifteen.

Fifteen years ago, I decided enough was enough, in regard to drink and drugs. One witness concurred. Others didn’t, but they’re all gone now, one way or another.

I married the one who did.

There was a woman in the rooms when I first went, in my hometown, who was extra badass. A nurse.

We often had conversations outside meetings, especially during those first weeks, when I was a blank slate. She’d talk about feeling pride rather than gratitude. She told me to look for my pride every day.

Find what you’re proud of, she’d say, and feel good about it. It’s yours.

Ugh, there was so little, at first. Thank god that’s over.

Fifteen years. I’m so proud now of the changes I’ve made, and the chances I’ve taken. The little ways life just keeps getting better. That my pace has slowed down just enough to help me see the big picture more often, and that it’s usually not about me. That finally I’ve let yoga teach me things like, “balance happens when ease and effort are equal.” Man, I love that one. So much is good in my life. I’ve worked hard for that.

But today, on this day…I’m most proud of my beautiful daughter, and the way she gets up every day and goes back after it, using her creative and brilliant mind to try to figure out the puzzle of the world.

That’s never easy for any of us.

But damn, her persistence is inspiring. I’m so proud of her.

I’m proud of both of us.