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There’s a Reason You’re So Hard on Yourself
Yesterday I was reprimanded in probably the nicest and kindest way anyone could be reprimanded by a total stranger, and yet I felt pretty bad when it was over.
I didn’t even do anything wrong. I was just asked a question but I internalized it like I had actually committed some great crime.
When I woke up this morning, I hit the journal and a similar theme popped up: You’re still too hard on yourself.
“Really? I thought I got over this,” I said to myself. But once I embraced the reality, I got into more investigating.
I decided to embody the me who believed it was good to feel bad when someone instructs me to stop doing something or warns me.
I realized that there really was something supporting this self-abuse. I believed that being hard on myself was helping me to be more perfect.
By applying this pressure on myself I thought I could be more in-tune with others’ needs, and ultimately, isn’t life really about serving others?
A clever cop-out but I knew that perfection wasn’t a realistic goal. Moreover, while it is good to be able to be in tune with the needs of others, didn’t I need to be in tune with my own needs?
