Do you judge yourself for feeling sad or lesser-than?
The toxic positivity movement has pathologised normal feelings - so a bad mood often comes with a side of self-judgment. But there are a few powerful antidotes, like empathy, remembering to ‘HALT’, and laying down the b-s so you can be more real with others
One of the occupational hazards of working in ‘mental wellbeing’ is that often, when a bad mood comes on, I judge myself for it. Not only am I grumpy about having to spend two and a half hours on a Friday morning at the health clinic, for yet another kid’s ear infection, but I’m also, clearly, a bit shit at my job - because I’m in a mood and therefore, maybe not so good at improving wellbeing.
I sit in this uncomfortable sandwich for a while, bad mood on one side and judgement on the other. And then I remember…
Humans have moods! People sometimes get frustrated or angry or sad!
Obvious, right? But I think the toxic positivity movement has a lot to answer for, in that it has pathologised a normal range of emotions.
There’s something interesting about the ‘directionality’ and ‘temperature’ of toxic positivity too. It feels like someone standing over or above you, making a cool judgement about your worth, and your inability to maintain a sunny disposition every freaking second. In contrast, I think genuine wellbeing stems from empathy – which feels like someone standing beside you, emitting warmth. Looking at the issue from your point of view, and relating to the struggle. Which, incidentally, helps you to move through the struggle much faster.
That empathetic voice can also remind you to HALT. Are you Hungry? Alone? Have Lots to do? Feel Tired? Working mums probably say yes on all fronts, most of the day. So it’s kind of no wonder we’re close to overwhelm and a bit of a mood, some of the time. At least the hunger issue can be quickly resolved hey.
(Photo by Estúdio Bloom from Unsplash)
Judging ourselves for feeling shit sometimes is, well, shit. Whereas acknowledging our very normal emotions can improve self-compassion. And acknowledging those feelings out loud, to other people? Even better. Which brings me to a heart-warming story from this week.
It’s my 20 year high-school reunion this weekend, which I’d been anticipating with a fluctuating mix of curiosity and dread. You see, I went to a pretty fancy all-girls school. Someone drove a Merc to school at 16. The cool girls made shirts with ‘Exclusive’ embroidered on the back, and their names on the front. The French class’s field trip wasn’t to the French markets, but . . . all the way to France. That kind of thing.
As part of the big ‘middle’ group, my friends’ parents weren’t on the rich list, but they were all pretty well off. And we all internalised high expectations for ourselves. So the thought of reuniting with this crew, 20 years later, and seeing how exponentially high some people’s stars had risen – well it made me kind of nervous. I’m happy with my life and my choices, but it can still feel threatening if you think you’re being weighed and measured, and found wanting.
Two of my good friends chatted about this on a private thread, as we considered whether to attend. And then my friend went full Brene Brown, and owned her vulnerability, right there on our year-group’s Facebook page.
Here’s the core of what she said:
I’m halfway through my Covid isolation period so maybe I’m a bit woozy but here we go:
I think I speak for quite a few of us when I say - I’m really nervous about attending the reunion.
While my life has not turned out the way I expected, I’m proud of the wee life that I’ve created over the past twenty years.
“Comparison is the thief of joy” and I don’t want my joy taken from me because I didn’t also attend an illustrious university, I haven’t also been overwhelmingly professionally successful, nor have I also spent extensive time overseas. . .
Our bests will all look very different and to be fair, we are all still young with a lot of opportunities ahead.
I really hope that others who are nervous about attending read this and are comforted by the knowledge that there’s at least one other person attending who is also nervous about feeling shit about themselves at the end of the night.
I promise, I swear, that if you come up to me and say “hey Jess” I’ll be so excited to see you. Even if we weren’t particularly close at school, I’ll be curious and genuinely interested in the human being you’ve curated for yourself.
I want to hear about the difficulties you’ve faced and how you’ve overcome them. I’ll be so proud of you.
Please come along. Even if you’re nervous. I’d really love to see you.
(PS if you’ve kicked ass at life, I’m proud of you too! You just probably don’t need much encouragement to attend a high school reunion)”
So brave hey?
And the response to that bravery gave me a warm glow all week. Over 50 people liked the post. Girls from the ‘cool group’ shared that they were feeling nervous too. And we all collectively kind of ‘laid down’ the b-s, and agreed in advance that there are different measures of success, and that we want to catch up, without worrying about measuring up. It’s the closest I’ve ever felt to my year group, and it stemmed from my friend’s decision to own those crappy emotions, out loud.
As the ever-wise Brene Brown puts it,
“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.”
And
“We can’t selectively numb emotion. Numb the dark and you numb the light.”
Take care out there, my lovely light-and-shadow friends,
x Renee from Thrive Lab