Part 2: Self-compassion in action
Let’s say you’re talking to me, your therapist, about something you’re struggling with. Let’s keep it light and say you’re having a hard time getting up and walking your dog in the morning. You finish telling me about your drama with Rover, and I say, “This is so stupid. How can someone fail at something as basic as walking a dog? You’re a complete loser.”
When I give this example, basically all clients (correctly) tell me that they would be horrified if I said that to them. One said “You would be the worst therapist on earth,” which I think was pretty apt. Even the rare few who stubbornly insist that they agree with those comments, will still answer the next question the same way anyone else would: Would you be interested in coming to me to discuss a problem again after that?
NOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooo you would not. Why?
Because I was critical, judgmental, and petty. Because it’s deeply unpleasant to have your vulnerabilities scorned by other people. Because human beings are wired to avoid that kind of rejection as a matter of survival, especially if they’ve already experienced trauma and neglect.
You wouldn’t (I really hope you wouldn’t) go to a therapist who enjoyed calling you names and berating you for suffering. Therefore, cultivating an inner voice that enjoys calling you names and berating you for suffering is never, ever going to help you change.
So what is?
Self-compassion.
If you didn’t get a chance to read the first installment of this post, follow this link for an intro.
Now let’s dive into an example.
Scenario:
You have a work assignment due on Friday. It is now Thursday, and you’re still scrolling deep corners of the internet to find new ways to not do it. The feeling of panic is rising almost as high as the feeling of shame.
Here’s how someone with the harsh, belittling Voice ™ identified in the previous post responds to themselves in this situation:
“I knew I would do this, I always do! I’m a lazy, useless procrastinator and now there’s just not enough time to do it well! Now my boss, my colleagues, and thousands of LinkedIn users previously unaware of my existence will know that I’m a piece of s***!!!”
If the panic finally outpaces the shame, you might start cramming the assignment as fast as humanly possible, maybe with an all-nighter involved* (*source: me getting an undergraduate degree). If the shame is more intense than the panic, maybe you continue to avoid it indefinitely, avoid checking your emails, hope no one asks you about it, or fake an illness or emergency to explain your lack of progress* (*source: me working a corporate job).
Either way, when you finally get that thing over the line, your only thought is probably going to be “Never again.” I don’t want to feel that way again, I don’t want to be like this, I wish things were different, next time I’ll start sooner. But there’s no real change there. Just pain and pain avoidance taking turns pressing buttons in your brain.
Can I interest you in an alternative?
It’s not what most people think it is! This is when people assume that because I’m a therapist, I’m probably living in Therapist Land where you don’t need to perform well at jobs or fulfill expectations in any way, and my self-compassionate advice is going to be like TikTok videos telling you “You’re perfect, you literally never do anything wrong, everyone else is gaslighting you, #selfcare.”
You don’t need to falsely claim to be perfect. You shouldn’t hop in a bubble bath instead of taking care of your responsibilities. But you do need to respond to your struggles without vicious name-calling and frothing at the mouth about how you will never succeed. Like so:
Same scenario:
You have a work assignment due on Friday. It is now Thursday, and you’re still scrolling deep corners of the internet to find new ways to not do it. The feeling of panic is rising almost as high as the feeling of shame.
Self-compassionate take:
“I feel really anxious about this assignment, and I’ve been avoiding it for days. I’m disappointed and upset that I didn’t get started earlier, because now I have limited time. What do I need in order to finish this project?”
There are two qualities that, to me, embody a self-compassionate response.
The first quality is being observational rather than judgmental. You’ll notice in the example above, I’m not whispering unrelated affirmations to myself in order to avoid the reality of my situation (what a lot of people think self-compassion is). I’m also not calling myself names like “lazy” etc. I’m making an effort to be accurate (e.g. I’m disappointed and upset by my actions) while also remaining morally neutral (my actions don’t automatically mean I’m a worthless person).
The second quality is having curiosity vs. certainty. You’ll notice that the first response is full of absolutes: I’m ALWAYS like this, or this is DEFINITELY what’s going to happen next, and all of the judgments I made about myself are ABSOLUTELY TRUE.
The self-compassionate version embraces a little ambiguity. It asks, what do I need in order to do this? It opens the door to possible actual solutions to the problem, without immediately presuming that I AM the problem. It prompts me to wonder:
Have I slept, eaten, drunk enough water to continue? Do I genuinely need to pull an all-nighter? Do I need a coffee, a walk around the block, a call to a friend, a panicked crying fit, a hug? Do I need to come clean to others that I can’t realistically do this, and accept the consequences of my mistake? Do I need to seek some additional help because this pattern in my life is becoming overwhelming and it happens all the time?*
Even if the outcome doesn’t change and I do decide to pull an all-nighter and cram furiously, at least it was a conscious choice. Plus, I’ll be going forward with a little more gas in the tank– I mentioned coffee, right?– and an inner voice telling me something more along the lines of:
“I can do this. I can try my hardest, I can stay focused, and I can get this done.”
Not:
“I suck, I’m the worst, why did I do this, I’m complete garbage.”
Obviously, having an inner voice like that goes deep. There’s always a good reason why someone thinks and talks to themselves this way. Developing authentic self-compassion usually goes hand in hand with parts work (another topic for another day!) and other therapy techniques that target significant trauma and mental illness.
But if you’re here reading this, I invite you to try this micro-change to your inner monologue. The next time you struggle or fail, see if you can run your thoughts through a compassionate translator. Invite observational and curious into your tone. You might be surprised by the results.
*If this kind of inner dialogue feels painfully familiar, you’re not broken and you’re definitely not alone. A lot of the work we do in therapy is helping people untangle that harsh internal voice and build a more accurate, compassionate way of relating to themselves, especially when trauma, anxiety, depression, or burnout are involved. If you’re in Pacifica or the greater San Francisco Bay Area, or anywhere in California via telehealth, you can learn more about working with Kate here.
