Apologies for the very late Sanguine Saturday post -- I wanted to complete this one first, and it has taken me this long to get it done.
Over the past little while I've been exploring the concept of invisiblity (in the symbolic, rather than literal, sense). What is it that makes some people more visible than others; and how much of that belongs on which side of the equation?
For myself, I've felt fairly unwelcome and invisible in several layers of my life recently. I suppose unwelcome isn't necessarily the right word, but certainly invisible is accurate. I've had times where I've wondered if I actually even still exist; if I dreamed my half of a conversation or if perhaps I simply forgot to say what I thought I'd said.
At first I told myself I was being silly. I told myself I was blowing things out of proportion and overreacting. I had, afterall, just come back after a bit of time away -- and before I went away, I often felt unwanted (possibly due to things in my own head). However as time went on, I began to speak about it a little with one or two other people -- people who had noticed the ways I had seemingly faded, and gave me confirmation that it wasn't all in my head.
Reassured that this wasn't entirely a case of borderline 'paranoia' or personal misconception due to insecurity etc, I began to explore why it might be so. What is it that I am doing that is leading to this response? IS it something I'm doing? I asked a few people in a general sort of way and I gave thought to their responses, however as they were responding in general terms (my own fault, as I'd asked in that capacity!) it was difficult to see what to apply to my situation and what not to.
Many theories have bounced around inside my head. Some combine both parties; others are concerned mainly with others' impressions/beliefs about me or focus on my failings. None of them have made me happier or bought me closer to a resolution. I wanted to talk to the people concerned directly, particularly the ones who matter most to me, but it's not the sort of thing I want to bring up in a Facebook message, and I haven't managed to catch them when I've been around online in order to really speak about it -- especially since I'd rather speak to as many people at once than deal with going through it individually.
Instead, I continue to theorise, to remind myself that there are people who do consistently choose to have me in their lives (in whatever capacity is possible at the moment) and to remind myself that these people wouldn't make that choice if I were fundamentally flawed to such a degree that I am not worthy of any friendship/caring/love.
And so... I bring this to you, dear blog friends. Have you ever felt this way? If you did, how did you handle the situation? How did other people respond to your management of same? And/or, what do you think makes some people more invisible than others and how much of the 'blame'/'responsibility' for that lies where?
Showing posts with label self esteem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self esteem. Show all posts
Saturday, May 26, 2012
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Stupid *Isn't* As Stupid Does
Intelligence/stupidity has been something that just keeps coming up for me, lately. I've had several conversations around the topic in the last couple of weeks, and they've all been really interesting with some big insights for me.
I've spent most of my life being told that I could do anything I wanted to do, be anything I wanted to be. I've also spent most of my life being told that I can't do anything, that I'm stupid and that I will never be good enough. Confusingly enough, many of the people giving me these messages were giving me both messages at the same time. Caught in my borderline black & white thinking, I interpreted this as "I am stupid" and "I will never be good enough" (with a side dose of messages such as "people will tell me I am smart so they feel better about the fact that I have nothing going for me"). Since I had an desperate need to please, I continued trying to prove that I could be smart for a long time. I continued trying to live up to the expectations that were in place, and I continued trying to prove that I could be good enough.
While I was still in this desperate to please state, I fell in love with a boy I considered very intelligent. He was charismatic, funny, good at numbers and figures, he knew a lot of things about a lot of things, and he was very sure of himself - so sure that every time I thought something was different to how he said, he would set about proving how wrong I was. I'm sure you all know where this is headed, but I didn't.
I started to have a breakdown. My doctor decided to remove me from my studies at University because I was too much of a suicide risk the way I was. It, at the time, fuelled the fire of self hate and doubt at my intelligence - how smart could I be if I had to be removed from Uni because I couldn't handle it?
The one good thing to come out of it was that since I had dropped out of Uni, most peoples' expectations on me disappeared. I was, more than ever, the family screw-up, but one they'd lost hope in. At least I'd married myself off and wouldn't need to leech off them...
By the time another year had passed, I had stopped trying to prove I was smart. What was the point? As far as I could tell, any intelligence I might once have had was long gone, probably had never existed at all. Eventually I even seemed to be actively trying to prove my lack of intelligence.
And by then, my view of myself as stupid had evolved into a many faceted thing. I was stupid because I couldn't think in the ways I used to be able to as a child. I was stupid because I wasn't good at numbers and figures. I was stupid because I had a poor memory. I was stupid because I'd made some unhealthy choices. I was stupid because I couldn't make connections I'd never been taught to make. I was stupid because I couldn't even finish University. I was stupid because I didn't get a better OP score in high school. I was stupid because I didn't think in the same ways as people I cared about thought in.
Not only that, but being 'stupid' filled some of my needs. Being stupid meant lower expectations on me. Being stupid meant I was humble. Being stupid meant I didn't get accused of getting above my station. Being stupid meant I wasn't a threat.
It got so that most people seemed to forget how smart I'd been. Many of the people in my life 'now' had never known the smart kid in school, which helped, and peoples' expectations of me were different. My best friend said to me the other day that nobody expected stupidity from me and that it wasn't how people thought of me - but she's only half right. A good proportion of people in my life really do think that I'm as thick as a couple of planks... but it's only because I've worked so hard to make them think that way.
I still remember saying something in DBT one day and the room went quiet. One woman, who hid behind her intelligence and rational thought as a form of avoidance, had the guts to say it: "Wow. You're actually really smart, aren't you? You hide it very well!"
Indeed, just the other day, in a chatroom I regularly visit, someone I've known as an acquaintance for years made the comment, "when did you get so wise?" and the truth is... I suppose I always have been. But I haven't been brave enough to let it show in years.
And, you know, for all that I've just outright admitted in this post that I am not so stupid after all, I still struggle to believe it most of the time. And as hard as it is to believe it, it's even harder to say it.
But guess what? I'm not stupid, and I'm really starting to show it again.
Challenge and cheer-leading statements:
All feelings are real and valid. All feelings will pass.
However I feel is okay.
Being different doesn't have to mean being wrong.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
I've spent most of my life being told that I could do anything I wanted to do, be anything I wanted to be. I've also spent most of my life being told that I can't do anything, that I'm stupid and that I will never be good enough. Confusingly enough, many of the people giving me these messages were giving me both messages at the same time. Caught in my borderline black & white thinking, I interpreted this as "I am stupid" and "I will never be good enough" (with a side dose of messages such as "people will tell me I am smart so they feel better about the fact that I have nothing going for me"). Since I had an desperate need to please, I continued trying to prove that I could be smart for a long time. I continued trying to live up to the expectations that were in place, and I continued trying to prove that I could be good enough.
While I was still in this desperate to please state, I fell in love with a boy I considered very intelligent. He was charismatic, funny, good at numbers and figures, he knew a lot of things about a lot of things, and he was very sure of himself - so sure that every time I thought something was different to how he said, he would set about proving how wrong I was. I'm sure you all know where this is headed, but I didn't.
I started to have a breakdown. My doctor decided to remove me from my studies at University because I was too much of a suicide risk the way I was. It, at the time, fuelled the fire of self hate and doubt at my intelligence - how smart could I be if I had to be removed from Uni because I couldn't handle it?
The one good thing to come out of it was that since I had dropped out of Uni, most peoples' expectations on me disappeared. I was, more than ever, the family screw-up, but one they'd lost hope in. At least I'd married myself off and wouldn't need to leech off them...
By the time another year had passed, I had stopped trying to prove I was smart. What was the point? As far as I could tell, any intelligence I might once have had was long gone, probably had never existed at all. Eventually I even seemed to be actively trying to prove my lack of intelligence.
And by then, my view of myself as stupid had evolved into a many faceted thing. I was stupid because I couldn't think in the ways I used to be able to as a child. I was stupid because I wasn't good at numbers and figures. I was stupid because I had a poor memory. I was stupid because I'd made some unhealthy choices. I was stupid because I couldn't make connections I'd never been taught to make. I was stupid because I couldn't even finish University. I was stupid because I didn't get a better OP score in high school. I was stupid because I didn't think in the same ways as people I cared about thought in.
Not only that, but being 'stupid' filled some of my needs. Being stupid meant lower expectations on me. Being stupid meant I was humble. Being stupid meant I didn't get accused of getting above my station. Being stupid meant I wasn't a threat.
It got so that most people seemed to forget how smart I'd been. Many of the people in my life 'now' had never known the smart kid in school, which helped, and peoples' expectations of me were different. My best friend said to me the other day that nobody expected stupidity from me and that it wasn't how people thought of me - but she's only half right. A good proportion of people in my life really do think that I'm as thick as a couple of planks... but it's only because I've worked so hard to make them think that way.
I still remember saying something in DBT one day and the room went quiet. One woman, who hid behind her intelligence and rational thought as a form of avoidance, had the guts to say it: "Wow. You're actually really smart, aren't you? You hide it very well!"
Indeed, just the other day, in a chatroom I regularly visit, someone I've known as an acquaintance for years made the comment, "when did you get so wise?" and the truth is... I suppose I always have been. But I haven't been brave enough to let it show in years.
And, you know, for all that I've just outright admitted in this post that I am not so stupid after all, I still struggle to believe it most of the time. And as hard as it is to believe it, it's even harder to say it.
But guess what? I'm not stupid, and I'm really starting to show it again.
Challenge and cheer-leading statements:
All feelings are real and valid. All feelings will pass.
However I feel is okay.
Being different doesn't have to mean being wrong.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Conquering The Need To Please
Anybody who knows me at all, knows that I am, possibly above all other things, a people-pleaser. As a child, it was a necessary part of my survival - as an adult, it was, I believed, the only way I would ever be liked, let alone loved. So for a long time all of my value came from having others like me, from doing and being everything everyone else wanted me to be. I was a chameleon and I wore whatever skin I thought the other person wanted to see.
If (I thought) you wanted someone to listen, that's what I'd do. If (I thought) you wanted comfort, that's what I'd give. If (I thought) you wanted advice, I'd offer it. If (I thought) you wanted to hear you were wonderful, that's what I'd say. Everything came second to that need to please - everything. I would stay up all night to support an acquaintance; give money away to anybody who asked, if they said they needed it; drop everything for everyone.
And it worked. I had a knack for it. I was good at being what everyone else wanted me to be - too good. Somewhere in all of that, I lost who I was. I lost who I wanted me to be. I lost my substance, and all that was left was the need to please everybody else. And I was fine with that because, you see, most people did like me... to a point.
People loved that I would do anything for them. They valued that I would value them so much... but they, for the most part, didn't have a lot of respect for me. Why should they, when I so clearly had no respect for myself?
2008 was the beginning of a turning point. In 2008 I came face to face with the concept that although most (real life) people "liked" me, nobody actually particularly cared about or for me. I was everybody's friend, but nobody counted me as theirs; as far as they were concerned, I was a hanger-on, an amiable and pleasant caricature, but I was not and had never been, any more than that.
Even after I recognised that, though, I didn't connect the dots. I couldn't understand how everybody could like me so much and not actually like me. (If you're confused, perhaps thinking of it as the difference between an acquaintance and a friend may help.)
And even when I did connect the dots, when I finally made the link, I was too afraid to do anything about it. My entire worth as a person hung on whether others liked me; if I started trying to worry about how I felt about things, everyone would see that there was nothing worth liking in me. So I didn't change much. By this stage I'd agreed to do DBT because that was (I thought) what my case manager had wanted for me. I stayed because (I thought) that was what the group coordinator had wanted.
I dropped everything when (I thought) somebody wanted me to or believed they needed me to. Even as I recognised the re-emergence of my self, my needs, my wants... I put them aside for others. And generally not selectively, either; there was a level of hierarchy, but for the most part, anyone who (I thought) wanted something, got it.
And then... something changed. I don't know if it was gradual, sneaking up on me, or if it was fairly sudden, but I do know that something has changed.
I've started to speak out. I don't just tell people what (I think) they want to hear, these days. I tell the truth as I see it - I try to be compassionate and diplomatic about it, but I'm still learning how to balance that with being true to myself. I'm still learning what it means to have a self to be true to.
I'm interested in helping people, in offering more than a virtual snuggle; I want to challenge people because we cannot grow without challenge. I'm not interested in walking on eggshells for the rest of my life. I'm not interested anymore in putting aside everything I need, everything I want, everything I am, to please somebody else.
Unsurprisingly, I'm less liked now.
Surprisingly, I don't mind nearly as much as I thought I would. It still hurts a lot, and it's very hard, still, to say no to my desire to please someone else. I don't always choose to do it, even when I know I 'should'. It's a learning curve, and this is just the beginning of another journey.
I used to think the world would end if I upset others, if I put myself first, if I failed to please someone...
Let me tell you, the world hasn't ended.
Yes, I'm less 'popular' now, but I feel, in some ways, like I am much more loved. People I truly admire -- people who are imperfect but never give up; who are good, kind, thoughtful people who have learned or are learning to respect themselves and put themselves first sometimes; who understand the value of change and challenge; who aren't afraid to give and take -- have noticed the change in me, in a good way. I feel like I have earned something much more valuable to me than mass outward approval - I feel that I have earned, dare I say it?, the respect of people I look up to. And I have earned something else, somehow, too, because I discovered something when I realised how much I have changed.
Not only would I would much rather have the respect and love of five* of those people than be universally liked; I'd rather respect myself than be universally liked, too.
*(I just wanted to put a number here and since I prefer numbers to be in multiples of 5...)
Cheer-leading / Challenge Statements:
It's okay to be proud of myself.
I don't have to be perfect.
I'm an okay person, and choosing to look after myself and my needs first doesn't change that.
I'm not responsible for other peoples' emotions.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
If (I thought) you wanted someone to listen, that's what I'd do. If (I thought) you wanted comfort, that's what I'd give. If (I thought) you wanted advice, I'd offer it. If (I thought) you wanted to hear you were wonderful, that's what I'd say. Everything came second to that need to please - everything. I would stay up all night to support an acquaintance; give money away to anybody who asked, if they said they needed it; drop everything for everyone.
And it worked. I had a knack for it. I was good at being what everyone else wanted me to be - too good. Somewhere in all of that, I lost who I was. I lost who I wanted me to be. I lost my substance, and all that was left was the need to please everybody else. And I was fine with that because, you see, most people did like me... to a point.
People loved that I would do anything for them. They valued that I would value them so much... but they, for the most part, didn't have a lot of respect for me. Why should they, when I so clearly had no respect for myself?
2008 was the beginning of a turning point. In 2008 I came face to face with the concept that although most (real life) people "liked" me, nobody actually particularly cared about or for me. I was everybody's friend, but nobody counted me as theirs; as far as they were concerned, I was a hanger-on, an amiable and pleasant caricature, but I was not and had never been, any more than that.
Even after I recognised that, though, I didn't connect the dots. I couldn't understand how everybody could like me so much and not actually like me. (If you're confused, perhaps thinking of it as the difference between an acquaintance and a friend may help.)
And even when I did connect the dots, when I finally made the link, I was too afraid to do anything about it. My entire worth as a person hung on whether others liked me; if I started trying to worry about how I felt about things, everyone would see that there was nothing worth liking in me. So I didn't change much. By this stage I'd agreed to do DBT because that was (I thought) what my case manager had wanted for me. I stayed because (I thought) that was what the group coordinator had wanted.
I dropped everything when (I thought) somebody wanted me to or believed they needed me to. Even as I recognised the re-emergence of my self, my needs, my wants... I put them aside for others. And generally not selectively, either; there was a level of hierarchy, but for the most part, anyone who (I thought) wanted something, got it.
And then... something changed. I don't know if it was gradual, sneaking up on me, or if it was fairly sudden, but I do know that something has changed.
I've started to speak out. I don't just tell people what (I think) they want to hear, these days. I tell the truth as I see it - I try to be compassionate and diplomatic about it, but I'm still learning how to balance that with being true to myself. I'm still learning what it means to have a self to be true to.
I'm interested in helping people, in offering more than a virtual snuggle; I want to challenge people because we cannot grow without challenge. I'm not interested in walking on eggshells for the rest of my life. I'm not interested anymore in putting aside everything I need, everything I want, everything I am, to please somebody else.
Unsurprisingly, I'm less liked now.
Surprisingly, I don't mind nearly as much as I thought I would. It still hurts a lot, and it's very hard, still, to say no to my desire to please someone else. I don't always choose to do it, even when I know I 'should'. It's a learning curve, and this is just the beginning of another journey.
I used to think the world would end if I upset others, if I put myself first, if I failed to please someone...
Let me tell you, the world hasn't ended.
Yes, I'm less 'popular' now, but I feel, in some ways, like I am much more loved. People I truly admire -- people who are imperfect but never give up; who are good, kind, thoughtful people who have learned or are learning to respect themselves and put themselves first sometimes; who understand the value of change and challenge; who aren't afraid to give and take -- have noticed the change in me, in a good way. I feel like I have earned something much more valuable to me than mass outward approval - I feel that I have earned, dare I say it?, the respect of people I look up to. And I have earned something else, somehow, too, because I discovered something when I realised how much I have changed.
Not only would I would much rather have the respect and love of five* of those people than be universally liked; I'd rather respect myself than be universally liked, too.
*(I just wanted to put a number here and since I prefer numbers to be in multiples of 5...)
Cheer-leading / Challenge Statements:
It's okay to be proud of myself.
I don't have to be perfect.
I'm an okay person, and choosing to look after myself and my needs first doesn't change that.
I'm not responsible for other peoples' emotions.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Choosing To Recognise Achievements
By chance, I ran into an old primary school friend this morning. We lost contact when I moved to my father's place and although we're facebook friends, we haven't actually talked in about 15 years. She hasn't changed much at all since I knew her, she is still the same down to earth person she was back then. She is extremely easy to talk to, and I found myself admitting to not having worked for a year and a half as well as to my various diagnosis' and so forth.
One of the most interesting things I found about our interaction was that she told me that I was far too hard on myself.
I am fascinated because I felt that I was actually, though honest, quite kind in the way I spoke of myself today. It really highlighted to me how far I have come, as well as how far I still have to go. For a start, it wasn't until I was reflecting on the interaction that I realised that, had I been speaking of someone else, I would never have said the sort of things I said about myself.
First example off the bat, she asked if I was going to go to my reunion this year and I told her that I wasn't sure yet. "What are your reasons for the hesitation?"
"I haven't achieved anything."
That is why I hesitate to commit fully, because that is what I believe about myself. I'm not sure I want to show up with nothing but a string of failures to show of my life since high school... but that's complete bullocks, really, isn't it? I have achieved something. I'm still alive!
Maybe I don't have a car, or a good job (or even a job, to be fair), or the husband-children-white picket fence... but I'm still alive. I have survived what I'm beginning to recognise as a fairly extensive amount of childhood abuse of all types. I have survived mental illness, discrimination, miscarriage, spousal abuse, divorce, the deaths of several people dear to me. I have survived an alcohol dependency. I have survived.
And I haven't just survived. I have achieved other things that may not be current, but are no less real for that. I have worked for five years at a job that I loved. I have studied and received a Certificate III at the end of my efforts. I have been to Sydney, Melbourne, Rockhampton, Bundaberg, Vanuatu and Fiji (and by the time of the reunion, Canberra will also be on that list). I have won competitions for my writing, I have won money in a photography competition. I have had my photographs on display at the Royal Brisbane Exhibition.
Why is that not enough for myself? My friend was right when she said, "I'm sure you have achieved things", but I couldn't see it.
It's time to start recognising that simply surviving is an achievement, and it's time to start congratulating myself for that. I didn't have to survive - I chose to. And I'm going to keep choosing to survive, and I'm going to rebuild my life until I get to a place that is healthy. A place where I am healthy and where I can find happiness, peace and contentment.
Cheerleading and Challenge Statements:
How wonderful will it be to ring Kelly and say, "it's been two months since I self harmed"? Hold onto that.
Whatever I feel is okay. I don't need to judge myself for my emotions.
Maybe I'm not just not a bad person - maybe I really am an okay person!
I can't change the past but I can change the present, and I can work towards a better future.
Ruminating and worrying won't change the way things are. All I can do is accept events/feelings/thoughts and deal with them as best I can when life happens.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
One of the most interesting things I found about our interaction was that she told me that I was far too hard on myself.
I am fascinated because I felt that I was actually, though honest, quite kind in the way I spoke of myself today. It really highlighted to me how far I have come, as well as how far I still have to go. For a start, it wasn't until I was reflecting on the interaction that I realised that, had I been speaking of someone else, I would never have said the sort of things I said about myself.
First example off the bat, she asked if I was going to go to my reunion this year and I told her that I wasn't sure yet. "What are your reasons for the hesitation?"
"I haven't achieved anything."
That is why I hesitate to commit fully, because that is what I believe about myself. I'm not sure I want to show up with nothing but a string of failures to show of my life since high school... but that's complete bullocks, really, isn't it? I have achieved something. I'm still alive!
Maybe I don't have a car, or a good job (or even a job, to be fair), or the husband-children-white picket fence... but I'm still alive. I have survived what I'm beginning to recognise as a fairly extensive amount of childhood abuse of all types. I have survived mental illness, discrimination, miscarriage, spousal abuse, divorce, the deaths of several people dear to me. I have survived an alcohol dependency. I have survived.
And I haven't just survived. I have achieved other things that may not be current, but are no less real for that. I have worked for five years at a job that I loved. I have studied and received a Certificate III at the end of my efforts. I have been to Sydney, Melbourne, Rockhampton, Bundaberg, Vanuatu and Fiji (and by the time of the reunion, Canberra will also be on that list). I have won competitions for my writing, I have won money in a photography competition. I have had my photographs on display at the Royal Brisbane Exhibition.
Why is that not enough for myself? My friend was right when she said, "I'm sure you have achieved things", but I couldn't see it.
It's time to start recognising that simply surviving is an achievement, and it's time to start congratulating myself for that. I didn't have to survive - I chose to. And I'm going to keep choosing to survive, and I'm going to rebuild my life until I get to a place that is healthy. A place where I am healthy and where I can find happiness, peace and contentment.
Cheerleading and Challenge Statements:
How wonderful will it be to ring Kelly and say, "it's been two months since I self harmed"? Hold onto that.
Whatever I feel is okay. I don't need to judge myself for my emotions.
Maybe I'm not just not a bad person - maybe I really am an okay person!
I can't change the past but I can change the present, and I can work towards a better future.
Ruminating and worrying won't change the way things are. All I can do is accept events/feelings/thoughts and deal with them as best I can when life happens.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Self Value & Accepting Compliments
"You have a really beautiful smile."
"What happened to your face?"
"I can't believe how strong she is."
"Her scars are hideous."
"I really love how innocent you are."
In our society, judgements are all around us. Sometimes those judgements work for us - they can help us to prepare for and protect ourselves; and sometimes those judgements work against us. When someone levels a judgement our way, we tend to call it one of two things. If it's a negative judgement, such as "her scars are hideous," we lean towards calling it an insult. If it's a positive judgement, we call it a compliment, and most people are generally glad to receive it.
Some people, on the other hand, are a little different. For whatever reason, compliments leave them feeling uncomfortable, uneasy, or downright afraid. I, as I'm sure you have guessed, am one of those people. In fact, this topic has come up for me several times over the past couple of days.
I've a friend who assumes if someone pays her a compliment, that person is lying. Another friend feels unsafe when someone gives her a compliment, as though the good thing will be taken away. A third friend finds them difficult because they're simply so unfamiliar. And me? Well, I find them difficult for a variety of reasons, most of which tangle together pretty thoroughly. For me, part of the big difficulty in accepting a compliment is that I am so thoroughly enmeshed in my core belief of myself as being worthless that if I am paid a compliment, my immediate thought is that I have somehow 'tricked' the other person into believing something about me that is false. As a person with a value system where honesty is quite highly rated, I find this very distressing.
In the past, my automatic reaction was to either 'do a runner' (thereby avoiding the entire situation), "fix" it by proving how wrong the person was, or at the very least, argue with them over why it couldn't possibly be accurate. As you can imagine, all of these paths rarely lead anywhere positive. I think the one major exception is that in attempting to argue with a particular friend, I was given a fantastic line that I continue to use on myself:
"If you argue a compliment, you reject the gift of it".
I cannot think of a more beautiful way to look at a compliment - and, of course, viewed that way, how can I argue? To prove the person wrong and "fix" the situation would also be to reject that gift, which leaves avoiding... but only in my old ways of dealing! In the new ways, there are other options. I can choose to actually accept the gift of that compliment, regardless of whether I feel it is true or not. I can choose to use cheer-leading and positive coping statements. I can choose to challenge my thoughts and beliefs about myself, including the belief that I am worthless, or that I am a fraud/liar because somebody sees something in me that I do not (yet). I can use the power of my thoughts to change my perception.
None of this comes easily, yet. I struggle, still, to accept that there is good in me -- but I'm learning that just because I don't see it, doesn't have to mean that it isn't there. If, right now, I still have to trust in others, that what they can see does exist, that's okay. I've had 27 years of believing I have no worth, of strengthening the hold of thinking based on the core belief of worthlessness - to expect it to change overnight is unreasonable. In the meantime, I plan to continue to make choices, as best I can, to work towards the day when I can say to myself, and with every fibre of my being mean, "I am a person of value"
And by accepting the gift of a compliment, when it is offered, that is exactly the message I am giving that little niggling thought that tells me I have no worth. "You are wrong. I have [compliment] going for me. There is worth in that. There is worth in me."
Today's thought challenges/cheer-leading statements:
Not having a quality 100% of the time doesn't mean I don't count as having it.
As I change my thoughts and the way I talk to and about myself, I am giving myself the power to change the way I act and feel about myself. It's okay to say positive things that don't yet "feel" true.
Making mistakes does not make me a bad person.
It's really okay to do things that are good for me. It's okay to look after me!
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
"What happened to your face?"
"I can't believe how strong she is."
"Her scars are hideous."
"I really love how innocent you are."
In our society, judgements are all around us. Sometimes those judgements work for us - they can help us to prepare for and protect ourselves; and sometimes those judgements work against us. When someone levels a judgement our way, we tend to call it one of two things. If it's a negative judgement, such as "her scars are hideous," we lean towards calling it an insult. If it's a positive judgement, we call it a compliment, and most people are generally glad to receive it.
Some people, on the other hand, are a little different. For whatever reason, compliments leave them feeling uncomfortable, uneasy, or downright afraid. I, as I'm sure you have guessed, am one of those people. In fact, this topic has come up for me several times over the past couple of days.
I've a friend who assumes if someone pays her a compliment, that person is lying. Another friend feels unsafe when someone gives her a compliment, as though the good thing will be taken away. A third friend finds them difficult because they're simply so unfamiliar. And me? Well, I find them difficult for a variety of reasons, most of which tangle together pretty thoroughly. For me, part of the big difficulty in accepting a compliment is that I am so thoroughly enmeshed in my core belief of myself as being worthless that if I am paid a compliment, my immediate thought is that I have somehow 'tricked' the other person into believing something about me that is false. As a person with a value system where honesty is quite highly rated, I find this very distressing.
In the past, my automatic reaction was to either 'do a runner' (thereby avoiding the entire situation), "fix" it by proving how wrong the person was, or at the very least, argue with them over why it couldn't possibly be accurate. As you can imagine, all of these paths rarely lead anywhere positive. I think the one major exception is that in attempting to argue with a particular friend, I was given a fantastic line that I continue to use on myself:
"If you argue a compliment, you reject the gift of it".
I cannot think of a more beautiful way to look at a compliment - and, of course, viewed that way, how can I argue? To prove the person wrong and "fix" the situation would also be to reject that gift, which leaves avoiding... but only in my old ways of dealing! In the new ways, there are other options. I can choose to actually accept the gift of that compliment, regardless of whether I feel it is true or not. I can choose to use cheer-leading and positive coping statements. I can choose to challenge my thoughts and beliefs about myself, including the belief that I am worthless, or that I am a fraud/liar because somebody sees something in me that I do not (yet). I can use the power of my thoughts to change my perception.
None of this comes easily, yet. I struggle, still, to accept that there is good in me -- but I'm learning that just because I don't see it, doesn't have to mean that it isn't there. If, right now, I still have to trust in others, that what they can see does exist, that's okay. I've had 27 years of believing I have no worth, of strengthening the hold of thinking based on the core belief of worthlessness - to expect it to change overnight is unreasonable. In the meantime, I plan to continue to make choices, as best I can, to work towards the day when I can say to myself, and with every fibre of my being mean, "I am a person of value"
And by accepting the gift of a compliment, when it is offered, that is exactly the message I am giving that little niggling thought that tells me I have no worth. "You are wrong. I have [compliment] going for me. There is worth in that. There is worth in me."
Today's thought challenges/cheer-leading statements:
Not having a quality 100% of the time doesn't mean I don't count as having it.
As I change my thoughts and the way I talk to and about myself, I am giving myself the power to change the way I act and feel about myself. It's okay to say positive things that don't yet "feel" true.
Making mistakes does not make me a bad person.
It's really okay to do things that are good for me. It's okay to look after me!
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
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