Rewiring self-talk to a voice of compassion and love
You deserve peace.
During the time that my dad had been diagnosed with a terminal illness, my teenage self had grappled with finding some sense of control in life. His diagnosis with early onset Alzheimer’s disease was both tragic (he was only 48) and terrifying. His father had also suffered from dementia, and so the idea of there being a genetic component to his illness was a very real possibility.
Our chaotic family life became that much more so, and my reaction to this chaos was to clamp down on whatever I could. At that time, it meant pursuing academic success at all costs, and it also bled into something quite a bit more dangerous, as I became fixated on controlling what went into my body.
During the early 2000’s, thin was in. Well, thin and big boobs (because that’s realistic?). I began to villainize food and became way too focused on any hint of fat that deigned to appear on my body, anywhere other than my breasts.
Don’t get me wrong, you can already see how I was on a path to nowhere good, but at the time, calories represented something measurable, and controllable. The pain of hunger did not feel dangerous, like the pain of self harm, and I’d regularly go to bed hungry, telling myself that it was just hunger and not hurt.
But the truth is, I was hurting, and what I was doing wasn’t healthy. Looking back on it now, especially through the more modern lens of our body accepting culture, only amplifies the sense that I dodged a bullet when I returned to enjoying food once again. And although I can pinpoint the catalyst to my quest for control through calories, I cannot identify that time when I let go. Though I suspect it was when I finally allowed myself to feel the grief. When I sought mental health care support, and could then rally the strength to take on the dark emotions, with non-judgemental guidance by my side.
It took a really long time to get to that place, and truthfully, there’s a lot of trauma and associated grief that will need ongoing management.
Fast forward to a few years ago when I was pregnant with my first child. It won’t be surprising to you to hear that pregnancy in and of itself was terrifying for me. The total loss of control over one’s body. The change in shape, both during and afterwards. The societal perceptions of pregnant women. The threat it posed to my career progress to be, quite obviously, only around the office for a short time until becoming a mother.
For many, many reasons, I feel blessed to have had these challenges in my life. The transition into motherhood was one of the most profound times in my life, and in many ways, allowed me to rewrite many narratives around womanhood, motherhood, and what I valued in myself.
The one that I want to highlight here though, is the power of the messages we tell ourselves.
The Negative Voice as a motivator
During the times of stress and chaos, the inner voice that spurred me on wasn’t a soft and nurturing one. Instead, it was the voice of shame and ‘should.’ It motivated me to move forward out of avoidance (get good grades in school to get out of your home, get a degree to get out of poverty, get ‘in shape,’ to avoid being ridiculed).
It wasn’t pleasant, but it did work. And because it was effective, it made harder for me later to convince myself that it needed to be retired (and rewired). However, at that time, I was starting to really see the downsides to being motivated by cruelty as well. This way of thinking kept my focus on what I was avoiding rather than what I was working towards. It wanted to keep me small to keep me safe.
And perhaps most importantly, it was just a plain bummer to be ‘that’ person to your own darned self.
Because the truth is that you can’t live your life, or rather shouldn’t live your life, guided solely by avoidance, guilt, and shame. That inner critic, who is so cruel on you may have a place and time, but it will not lead you to live a life where your creativity, curiosity, love, and full breadth of expression are allowed to exist. The vulnerability of all of those things is too risky… but a life without them is risky too.
As far as we know, we only have one shot at this time on Earth. You deserve to experience the full breadth of life, and you can’t do that under the control of an inner voice that’s pushing you to stay small and avoid opportunities for exploration and growth.
Striking A Neutral Counterbalance to negativity through curiosity and compassion
You may think that the opposite of a negative inner monologue is a positive one, but I’d argue here that neutral is good enough.
It is just as ridiculous to me to expect that we would dance through life with rose coloured glasses on, as it is to expect that we should walk under the gloom of negativity for the 80 or so years we (hope) to get on Earth.
So, what if we weren’t cruel or over-the-top positive, but just allowed to be open and curious?
Rather than putting expectations on something to be a disaster or the best thing ever, to simply allow it to unfold and allow ourselves to feel?
Be curious about situations and be curious about your feelings. Pull them into consciousness and rather than control them, ask yourself what they stem from.
What are they telling you?
If you’re uncomfortable, why?
If you’re sad, why?
If it’s wonderful, what does that tell you? Does it challenge your past beliefs? Make you excited for something to come?
The world isn’t black and white, but we do put situations and outcomes into boxes that fit the context of our past experience and expectations. The only way to rewire how we approach life is to start noticing how we’re feeling and whether those feelings are linked to what’s really happening in front of us, or if they’re connected instead to something in the past - or some future projection we have in mind too.
As I started down a path of unwinding past traumas, I had to relearn (and am still relearning) who I actually am. Not just who I am because of what has happened to me, but who I am to the core. I have started to pull myself away from the context of my upbringing, and I have had to call to question my perceptions, values and the way I live my life so I can evaluate if they still resonate with me. If they still serve me.
But I couldn’t do that without noticing how I was feeling and being curious about it first.
Adding Supportive Language Into Self-Talk
After I had my first daughter, I remember looking in wonder at the ridiculous shape my body was in. Deflated and sagging. Weighty and wobbly. Definitely a new shape that differed from the svelte and functional form I’d created through years of Crossfit, previously.
I remember ordering new pants (buttery soft lululemon black tights) to lounge around it and to start to walk again in, and realising I had a new size to order them in. As I placed the order, I recall my inner voice surprising me by describing the numbered size as ‘perfect’ (E.g. a ‘perfect size 8’) as I hit submit. It was funny to me how that one addition, the word ‘perfect’ gave me a little rush of joy and pride.
After all, my self-talk could easily have been more cruel. My old self may have opted to call myself ‘a fat size___.’ But I was glad that that old talk track had been retired.
It was a nice reminder of the very real physical and mental boost that words can provide, when we serve them up with love.
So please, give yourself grace. The same grace you’d give anyone else who is on a path of learning, doing new things, and trying to improve themself.
It’s a fallacy to think that just because you’re a grown up, that you’re all done growing.
It’s just so, so not true. Time marches forward and you will not stay the same. Life will throw you curveballs. What served you before won’t serve you anymore. You’ll have to chart new pathways forward.
Allow yourself the space to evolve. Be compassionate. Forgive yourself. Allow yourself freedom to try again. You are learning. You’re doing the best you can. Speak these words onto yourself, starting with the quiet voice that only you can hear inside your head. Treat yourself with the innate dignity you were born with a right to. You’re not done growing yet.