I’ve had a few people who love me the most basically take me to the mat over the past month. Yesterday I finished my walk one minute later than my usual pace. When she noticed my slumped shoulders, my daughter asked what was wrong. I told her, and she let me have it: “So you basically walked five miles in an hour and one minute? And you’re mad at yourself? You’ve gotta stop, Mom! Quit being so hard on yourself!” She actually yelled at me.
I’ve had other people I love repeatedly tell me I’m too hard on myself throughout my life. “You’ve gotta quit beating yourself up” is a sentence I’ve heard over and over.
The trouble is I’m a perfectionist. And I’m way, way more critical of myself than I am of anyone else. I’m always competing with myself; always challenging myself. Now, understand that I keep my goals realistic. If I’m used to doing three sets of 18 hamstring curls, I might try doing four sets tomorrow night. Or if I’m used to practicing my trumpet for half an hour, I might go for 45 minutes. If I wrote for two hours yesterday, I might shoot for an extra half hour today. You get the idea.
I’d never sit down and say, “Gee whiz. It’s been 25 years since I tried to prove a geometry theorem. It’s time to sit down for eight hours and solve 100 theorems.” Um…no thanks.
But I’m guilty of abusive self-talk. Honestly. If I talked to others as I talk to myself in my interior monologue (Or am I the only one who has ongoing conversations with myself?) I’d have no friends. None of my relatives would want me to come to Christmas. My church would probably invite me to some sort of intervention for learning to “tame the tongue,” as James puts it in James 3:8.
No one, and I mean NO ONE, has ever been as vicious with me as I am with myself. Screwed up one note in the offertory on Sunday? I’m a total failure. One minute behind my walking pace? I’m worthless. Burned the chicken? I’m totally irresponsible. Include a typo in my column? I have no right to call myself a professional writer. Flipped out and let a curse word slip in front of my kids? I have no business being a mother.
You catch my drift. The thing is, no one would tell me that. They’d say I played beautifully and didn’t notice the note I flubbed. They’d tell me they admire my self-discipline and wish they walked as often as I do. They’d share a story about the time they burned their son’s birthday cake or almost set the kitchen on fire while frying chicken. They’d say they didn’t notice the typo in my column and relate a story about the time they shattered a drinking glass and swore. They’d be laughing and wiping tears out of their eyes as they recall a conversation with their three-year-old’s preschool teacher, who’d told her he’d learned a new word from his mommy. And he’d taught the whole class the word during circle time.
So it’s time to start practicing positive self-talk. Time to say, “I finished my walk on a 27-degree day.” Or “That chicken wasn’t too bad after I covered it up in salsa and sour cream.” And “Most people skip right over typos without noticing them.” Or, as my kids remind me, “Everyone makes mistakes, Mom.”
Which is why we need encouragers in our lives. I thank God for the encouragers God has placed in my life.
So, if you beat yourself up with negative self-talk and yet find yourself bucking someone else up for making the same mistakes you’ve made, stop and do a quick self-assessment. Remind yourself of what you told her and repeat it to yourself. Keep doing that until it becomes a habit. You’ll be happier for it.
Have a wonderful week. Blessings!