do you think it’s sometimes easier to serve others than to attend to our own needs?
Chapter 2
Being Mean to Ourselves
“People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.”
— Audrey Hepburn, actress
The Voice in Your Head
Kristina was a client of mine who struggled with low self-esteem. She would tell me how she hated her appearance: “I’m so fat and ugly.” She tried diet after diet, starting strong for the first few days but then giving up, telling herself she could never expect to succeed. And her indulging in self-pity would often end with a trip to the gas-station convenience store to pick up her favorite junk food. Her reasoning was, “I’ll never lose weight anyway, so I may as well eat what I want.” She was stuck in a cycle of feeling defeated and overwhelmed by self-pity. All the while, her inner critic told her that, unless she lost the “perfect” amount of weight, she was a failure in life. Since she didn’t believe she could actually follow through with her diet, she felt trapped by her self-dislike.
Like Kristina, we all have an inner critic. What does the voice inside your head tell you? Typically, your inner voice is your harshest critic and zeroes in on your deepest, darkest insecurities. It’s easy to recognize your inner critic because it tends to deal in absolutes and worst-case scenarios. For example, your inner critic might tell you that you’ll bomb your presentation at work because you have no idea what you’re talking about (even though you spent hours preparing for it). Or maybe it whispers that because your kids have been extra crabby lately, you are the worst mother ever (even though you’ve had plenty of proud and meaningful parenting moments). Perhaps your inner critic insists that no one will ever want to be in a relationship with you because you aren’t attractive, smart, or funny enough (even though you have a track record of positive relationships in the past).
Your inner critic’s specialty is ignoring positive qualities and zeroing in on flaws, magnifying them so that they seem more real and terrible than they actually are. This relentless and constantly running monologue is an unwelcome reminder of your insecurities, flaws, and doubts. Whatever your inner critic tells you, it always leaves you feeling terrible about yourself and, at its worst, defeated and hopeless.
When we listen to our inner critic, we start to believe that the lies it tells us over and over are true, and then we start to act as if they are true. It’s a fact of our human nature that when we hear something repeated over and over again, we start to believe it’s true (even if it’s not). What happens when we listen to the repeated lies of our inner critic? Often, we start to neglect our well-being on some level, either because we believe the inner critic when it tells us we’re not worth it, or because we’re trying so hard to prove it wrong that we don’t give ourselves permission to invest in our well-being. These habits of neglect might start to show up in little ways such as not getting enough sleep, indulging in escapes like TV or junk food, letting our exercise routine fall by the wayside, or allowing ourselves to feel inferior to everyone else whether comparing looks or talents. And, if left unchecked, this self-neglect can snowball and become much worse over time, creating or exacerbating many other problems.
Trying to Prove the Voice Wrong
Though Kristina’s experience was an extreme example of the way negative self-talk holds us back, many of us allow similar self-defeating thoughts to sabotage our lives and make us miserable. Listening to the inner critic fuels the underlying belief that we aren’t good enough just as we are, and that we are unworthy. This perpetuates the cycle of not feeling good enough: I don’t like myself very much, and my inner critic reminds me constantly that I’m not perfect, so this, in turn, reinforces my belief that I’m not good enough. It’s a painful cycle to be in, and a tough cycle to break.
Different people tend to deal with this critical inner voice in different ways. Some of us get stuck in the same old bad habits of self-sabotage. Like Kristina, we respond to our belief that we are damaged or flawed by setting ourselves up to fail. Procrastination is an example of this that most of us can relate to. (Sometimes I think I’m an expert procrastinator when it comes to writing!)
If you’re a procrastinator, think about the last time you were facing a deadline and ask yourself why you put off working on that project. Perhaps deep down you were afraid you didn’t possess the qualities needed to perform well. By waiting until the last minute to complete a project, you have a built-in excuse if the project doesn’t turn out the way you hope. “I ran out of time,” or “I could have done a better job if I wasn’t rushed,” is a lot easier to deal with than, “Even though I had plenty of time, I struggled with this project and I still didn’t do as well as I’d hoped, and now I feel like a failure.” Fearing that you don’t have what it takes can be intimidating, so, often, it’s easier to give yourself an excuse than to face even the possibility that you aren’t perfect. The trouble is, none of us is perfect, and mistakes will happen — but making a mistake doesn’t mean you are a failure. If you make unrealistic perfection your standard, you will always be disappointed.
Others respond to the inner critic by throwing themselves into work or other projects, pushing themselves to the breaking point in an effort to prove the negative thoughts wrong. The often-unspoken motivation is: The more power I have, the more important I am; the bigger the number on my paycheck, the more I can prove to my inner critic that I really am worth something.
I personally experienced this during my graduate training in Washington, D.C. While I made several meaningful friendships and professional relationships, there seemed to be a general attitude in the city that power, busyness, and self-importance were more important than meaningful connections and relationships. Often, people were more interested in the networking and opportunities a new acquaintance could provide someone than in an authentic relationship. There was an uncomfortable undercurrent of “I’m only interested in what you can do to help me further my career” in many social interactions. At social events, the first question asked was, “What do you do?” Far from being a harmless question, this turned potential new friendships into transactions, like we were in a game of one-upping each other. I distinctly remember someone telling me with pride that they “worked on the Hill.” I knew very well that they were interning for the summer and probably just fetching coffee and making copies, but they wanted to make themselves sound as important as possible.
Others fight their inner critic by spending all their energy trying to ensure that they are well-liked and that everyone is happy with them. I’m reminded of an old acquaintance of mine who used to try to buy the friendship of others. He would insist on unnecessarily covering the check at birthday dinners or buying expensive gifts for friends and acquaintances alike. Often, people would try to take advantage of his generosity. In reality, he didn’t have much confidence in his likability and tried to mask it by excessive generosity.
Unfortunately, when we measure our self-worth by a paycheck, or by the power we have, or by how much people like and admire us, sooner or later it backfires. The truth is, we’re never satisfied when it comes to power, money, or the admiration of others, and we will always want more. Yet power, money, and the admiration of others can disappear in an instant. They’re not a reliable foundation on which to base your self-worth.
How to Recognize and Reject That Inner Voice
Often, we don’t even realize that there’s a running monologue of self-defeating thoughts in our heads until we take a step back to look for them. Usually, we just accept these thoughts as fact and let them guide our actions. And the more we listen to and accept these thoughts as facts, the more deeply ingrained they become.
