Loving Yourself in the Face of Unrelenting Expectations
And a free Soundings Circle to help you do it
I’m noticing that a lot of people seem to be responding to me on Substack in extreme ways. Either someone is supremely kind, compassionate, and understanding, or they are harsh, critical, even denigrating.
I received these diametrically opposite responses to a Note I wrote about how I’m changing my morning routines in order to cope with our current political crisis:
I wrote this Note to hold myself accountable for the choices I’m making to manage myself at this moment in history. It’s not a prescription for anyone else. And as I reread it, I still don’t think any of it is especially controversial.
Quite frankly, I’ve been astounded to watch it draw a “viral” response (in comparison to most of my Notes).
The vast majority of comments left on the Note or sent to me privately have been supportive and encouraging (thank you, dear ones!). Most people understood that I was talking about preserving my well-being for the long haul by changing habits that aren’t helpful at the moment.
However, a handful of responses have been brutal! You’re burying your head in the sand, they cried. One person called me a hypocrite and suggested that I’m trying to profit off the current political crisis. Other people have accused me of moral failing for taking a break from constant, frantic activity. How dare I say that I’m not willing to burn myself for the sake of a cause?!
Oof. I won’t lie. These kinds of messages hurt. But they come with the territory of sharing publicly (I guess…apparently the notion of just scrolling by isn’t any more powerful here than on other social media platforms).
I responded to the people who were open to engaging with me by highlighting that I was talking about tools for not getting crushed under the weight of the current stressors. Those 15-30 minutes in the morning give me the stamina to face the day with courage.
I took deep breaths and allowed myself to release the need to get in another word with commenters who weren’t asking for a conversation. And, I blocked a few people who resorted to name calling and viciousness. I’m sensitive, not a doormat.
When I receive external messages that I’m imperfect (or worse), I can shake them off by reminding myself of who I am. Or asking someone who loves me to remind me. They (I) know that I’m deeply committed to my values. I’ve been doing activist work since I was a pre-teen.
Given my high sensitivity, I know that I’m prone to burning out if I don’t step away from the constant barrage of headlines and notifications. I’m committed to doing what I can to take care of myself, because I know that if I burn out fast, lots of other people may suffer, too.
The challenge for me is when the doubts are coming from inside the house, so to speak. How can I deal with my internal awareness of my own limitations and imperfections? These doubts play upon my fears and insecurities. Am I doing enough? Am I giving myself a pass in a way that perpetuates this sick system? Am I “enabling apathy,” as one person suggested?
These are the doubts and judgments that can creep up and leave me feeling cynical and hopeless. At worst, they greatly increase my tendency to try to prove my worth by pushing to the point of burnout, which is exactly what I’m trying to avoid.
Loving and accepting ourselves for who we are is a radical act of resisting cultural pressure. Sometimes it’s the pressure to buy more, look a certain way, be the kind of person that society wants us to be. And at other times, it’s a pressure to be a certain kind of activist, idealist, or advocate. Both kinds of pressure are ultimately destructive to us individually and as a society.
I’ve been alive for far too long to believe that there is only one right way to live out your values.
My brain knows that my choices are the right ones for me, in this phase of my life. Getting myself to believe that on a gut level? That’s a bit more challenging.
Our ability to practice self-acceptance can so often die on the hill of our doubts and insecurities.
One of the truths I’ve come to embrace is this: every adult is a walking mixture of doubts, insecurities, contradictions, questions, imperfections, regrets, and as-yet-unmet promise. Connecting with this truth helps me be more accepting of other people.
I’m trying to turn this accepting lens onto myself. It’s no easy job for a recovering (self-)critic and perfectionist.
But I think that self-acceptance is a responsibility I cannot shirk. And here’s why. I used to tell people that I don’t work in a direct service role in a nonprofit anymore and that I never went to journalism school because I knew I would burn out under the constant barrage of horrors. But that was only part of the truth.
The whole truth is that I couldn’t accept my own imperfection. I wasn’t able, as a young woman, to stand up to the internal pressures: the impossible demands I put on myself to be someone I wasn’t, to live a life that wasn’t meant for me, to follow role models who were not actually a fit for who I was and who I wanted to become.
I’m no longer a young woman. But I have too much life ahead of me to listen to these kinds of the external criticisms from strangers online or from the culture at large. I’m not willing to spend another moment letting other people define whether I’m acceptable, worthy, or just plain enough.
Today, I’m choosing to embrace myself, imperfections and all. I’m choosing to accept that my limitations are not a moral failure or a sign of unlovability, just a sign that I’m human.
I’m going to keep making these choices for as long as it takes to root out the internalized messages that my humanity is a problem. And I’m going to drink my morning tea and ignore the external messages, too.
Choosing to change our internal narrative is best done in community. Through our connections with one another, we can see our humanity mirrored back to us. In communities, our individual, internal wounds are given what they need to heal. I hope that you’ll continue to build your community around you so that you can have this experience, too.
If you sense that you could use a little more support and would like to join with some kindred spirits, please join the Singularly Sensitive community for the next Soundings Circle. We meet on the first Wednesday of each month on Zoom from 7-8 PM Eastern. Our theme on February 5th is loving your imperfect self. In these small gatherings, we come together as sensitive, idealistic, human beings to write, witness, connect, and support one another. There’s no charge; just come as you are. And if you missed this month’s circle, please click the sign-up link to join us for the next one.
The worst thing any of us can do in dire times is believe the lies that we are not good enough to make a difference and that we are alone in the process.
Please do whatever you can to resist those lies! The world has never been more in need of what big hearted, bright, strategic people like us have to offer.
In Solidarity,
Lori
I love your wisdom! Sorry that some people were jerks to you.
Yes, yes, and yes! 🐦🪄🍵
How’s it going so far?