Self-Esteem vs. Self-Compassion

I’ve had it all wrong for a long time now.  I’ve thought somehow if I could just do self-help perfectly, I’d be well on my way to confidence and a sense of personal freedom.  If I could just will myself into the knowledge and experience of self-love and acceptance, we’d be good.

After all, I’ve used perfectionism to my advantage all these years, why stop now?  Why not just transfer that zipped up effort to my desperate longing to truly know and love myself?  If I could just sit in front of the mirror each and every day and say nice things about myself, or take hundreds of bubble baths, or perhaps read the right self-help books…or blogs, I’d be healed.  Or better yet, I could try and recall all those limiting beliefs I played over in my head, write them down, cross them out, and slap some lipstick on them.  You know the drill:

“I’m just too much to handle.  No one will love me just as I am.” 

Er…I mean:

“I’m the greatest thing since sliced (gluten-free) bread and have every reason to deserve love now.”

Sounds like an SNL sketch waiting to happen to me.  It also sounds reactionary and surface-level, not genuine and compassionate.  Quite honestly, this should be a relief for you and I.  We are not meant to be fixed; we are meant to be understood.

We cannot will ourselves into loving relationship with ourselves or anyone else for that matter because we are human beings, not human doings.  We are messy, complex, and perfectly imperfect.  Our souls call us to something deeper, bigger than mere performance.  

Enhancing our sense of value and worth solely from this angle is like pumping a poor chicken chock full of toxic hormones to go further at your local Kroger.  It may seem satisfying and full of culinary possibility in the minute, yet it probably has long-term health concerns.

Self-esteem is based on the way we view ourselves to the degree with which we like ourselves.  This sounds pretty important and inherently benign, right?  Sure, there’s nothing wrong with seeing ourselves in a good light, however, what happens when circumstances change and we fail to get that promotion, call back, date, or worse, push people away out of fear of rejection? 

The temporary illusion of self-esteem takes a hard and fast nosedive into a muddy puddle of shame.

Typically, if we depend on circumstances to prop up our self-worth, there’a steep, hard and unexpected fall coming just around the corner.  

Another shortcoming of self-esteem lies in the fact that it can feel self-indulgent and divisive in an effort to “one-up” those around us.  Looking back at our limiting belief turn-around, notice the correction. If I replace my limiting belief with a pep talk that tells me “I’m the greatest thing around,” I’m puffing up my ego (which operates from a place of fear instead of belonging) and pitting myself against the world in an effort to prove myself, not lovingly accept myself.  

So, what’s the solution?  If I can’t rely solely on self-esteem, what am I supposed to do?

Three years ago, I picked up a book called Self-Compassion, by Kristin Neff.  It has changed the way I relate to myself and others on every level.  It has also called me into this beautifully caring dialog with myself as opposed to the harsh, striving one that had been so loud and exhausting for decades.

What I’ve learned is that self-compassion looks vastly different than self-esteem.  It is not circumstantial; it is relational.  Self-compassion is based on the awareness that the human condition is frail at best, less than perfect all day long, and totally capable of resilience.  This new way forward is all about mindfully and compassionately relating to ourselves when we fall short or miss the mark just like we would a dear friend.

Self-compassion is cultivated like any relationship.  It fills in all the holes self-esteem leaves gaping.  By this I mean, when we don’t measure up or fail to live up to our expectation, self-esteem dips, inviting two extremes: negative self-talk or puffed up ego, (even…gasp…narcissism).

This is not the case with self-compassion.  It comes flooding in when our insecurities, flaws, and shortcomings stare us back in the mirror.  

Perhaps one of my favorite things about self-compassion is it binds us together in the reality of our human experience.  It doesn’t divide, puff up, or need to isolate.  It breeds vulnerability because we aren’t all out to prove our worth and successes; there is no need to when we embrace ourselves through the lens of “imperfect—still enough.”

Self-compassion says, “I see you are hurting. I understand where you are coming from, and I am here with you in the midst of it all. I’m not going anywhere.”  

Her voice is the strong and steady anchor in the midst of the storm.  

Her voice doesn’t wait on sunshine or rainbows to speak.  

Her voice gets louder and more frequent when we slow down to feel our feelings and touch our pain.  

Therein lies the beauty: It is only through our pain we ever experience deep and lasting joy.  

Love & Gratitude,

Katie

xoxo

Love Potion No. 9

“How can we be loved if we are always in hiding?”
-Donald Miller

Vases

Romantic love is the stuff of endless, brilliant art forms: song, poetry, film, fashion, story, sculpture, and much more. It’s been known to spark wars and sculpt history.  We all have relational histories that form us into the creatures we are today. Some of that history is redemptive and life-giving, some reminds us more of a once exquisite vase, crushed and broken into hundreds of pieces on the kitchen floor. The mess and heartache is so big, we sweep it  into a pile and dispose of it. We shop around for weeks, sometimes months, until we find a replacement; something perhaps with a sturdier base and more color. Just the thing that will complete our once cold, bare room.

Me

My own love story has been a winding, quizzical one at best. However, from where I sit with the soft, forgiving lens of perspective and time, I’m grateful. It’s been imperfect, yet without regret. It’s also been a complete surprise, as the one I’d really been looking for all along was right there, yet forgotten and out of reach. She was me, and she desperately longed for the affection and acceptance I heaped on other imposters, who I mistook for my heart’s final answer.

One

This week I celebrate my first wedding anniversary. I am humbled and beyond grateful for the gift of my marriage, and for Daniel, my incredible husband whom I deeply love and respect. So, in part, today’s post is a celebration of redemption and synchronicity, as our complex stories converged into one in a most peculiar and lovely way. However, it’s also a desperate plea; a wakeup call for anyone out there who’s holding out on hope and happiness, saving it all up for that magical day when they will find “the one.”

Vault

This is a vulnerable post, one that I  share with caution a healthy sense of fear. Yet I’m convinced our stories kept locked up in a hidden vault only rob weary hearts of those who are famished–so hungry for hope.

Magnify

Marriage—companionship is a magical thing. It brings a security and knowing that we’ve got a partner in this journey of longing, as Donald Miller puts it in his book Scary Close. It also serves as a high-powered magnifying glass to all the insecurities and faults we’ve had all along, yet managed to mask with makeup, a charming personality, and some self preservation. In my experience, it has forced me to do some pretty hard core personal work.

First Love

Here is the heavy-hitting truth I’ve been pummeled by lately: If we’re not convinced of our first love, our secondary love will surely disappoint. By this I mean, unless we truly see, partner with, and lovingly care for our true selves, our “me,” the pursuit of outside relationships to fill that void will crash and burn, leaving the lonely remains of a shattered hope.

37

In essence, this year I’ve learned I’m celebrating two milestones: my first wedding anniversary, yet perhaps more importantly, a full-circle, loving anniversary with that little Katie whose been desperately trying to get my attention and total acceptance for 37 years. Sure, I’ve done tons and tons of deep personal and spiritual work and have experienced some incredible breakthrough, however, I’ve never had to put all of my baggage through that glorious filter of marriage. It’s hard, it’s heartbreaking, it’s highly unflattering, and it’s absolutely worth every it because it leads us  home. Our true home, our birthright, is connection and belonging with self: that bold, honest, open little six-year-old who doesn’t give a ripwhat other people think. I found that curious little girl in a new way this past year, and the unfolding of life’s story around me has taken on a more gracious, loving tone.

Math

I’ve learned when we go “out there” looking for someone to fix what’s broken “in here” and find it, we’ve fallen in love with how they love us as opposed to the actual heart of that person. We cannot fathom and grasp true love if we are disconnected and at odds with ourselves. The math doesn’t work. I can’t give you something I don’t have. Sure, I can try, however, I’m acting at best.

Recover

Comparison with others, harsh self-criticism, low self-worth—these are all signs that there is work to be done and vibrant healing to be had. Guess what? It’s an ongoing process. We never simply “arrive”. Today, I invite you deeper into this work with me. There is no magic potion or pill (sorry for the misleading title), but there is a whole lot of grace and opportunity. We grow in relationship, not isolation. Let’s recover the little ones we left behind so long ago, abandoning them to the needs and wants of others we sought approval and safe harbor with time and time again. The safety of home is right here, right now. When we become love rather than searching to find love, we step into a pure, radiant power.  Love is always waiting, and someone very special, very innocent, desperately wants to hold your hand. 

Love & Gratitude,

Katie
xoxo

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