I have spent time figuring out where my own negative self-talk started because I know I wasn’t born to pick myself apart. Mine started in ninth grade swimming class when a mean girl asked me if I was in the right locker room because I was very tall and as flat as a washboard. Her voice and my discomfort occasionally resurface, and when it does, I remind myself that any negative self-image I have was learned. I could not stop her from being the bully, but I had complete control over stopping the bully in my own head.
I have been writing in a grateful journal at the end of my day for years and this is a wonderful way to reflect at days end on how blessed my life is. Once a week, I also write down five things that went well that day to remind myself of my strengths and unique gifts.
If I sense judgment from others, I challenge myself to provide evidence. Often, there is none, which highlights that self-acceptance begins with acknowledging and permitting myself to practice self-compassion and giving myself permission. Not to step in front of the mirror, but permission to show up without shrinking. Permission to get rid of the impossible standards I sometimes hold over my head. The real prize isn’t a Rose — it is radical self-compassion.