I'm not the poster child for self-esteem; my lowest point was pulling out a filleting knife and threatening to slit my wrists when I was a teenager (looking back, I don't think I realised that I wouldn't get that deep with a knife that bends).
Even so, thanks to a wonderful DH, it's managed to climb back up to where I can accept a compliment with a simple "thank you" instead of wondering who paid them to say said compliment.
So, today, I was working out at the gym. Go me. Aside from Week 5, Day 2 of the Couch to 5K program (2x8 minute runs with a 5 minute in between
- notice how I'm sneaking in all these little victories?
), I hopped on the bike.
And I realised about half-way through a very nasty hill, "Holy sh!t, I've got nice calves. I mean, I can see those cool lines in the side when I flex my ankles downwards and I've even got one at the top."
A very nice thought indeed. I've got nice legs for the first time in many many... well, for the first time ever.