On Liking Ourselves
or, in other words, on not rejecting ourselves.
1.
My daughter has been extra clumsy lately—the kind of clumsiness that’s confusing. She’ll be standing perfectly fine next to me, and the next minute, she’s on the floor, holding her knees and screaming in pain. I’ve been scratching my head a lot lately, trying to trace her movements, but I can’t figure out how she goes from standing to falling so quickly, multiple times a day. “She’s growing. Her body is growing,” I tell myself. It’s not easy adjusting to a body that isn’t the same size it used to be. It takes time to get used to longer arms and wider legs. The other day, after a few falls, I was already annoyed and told her she needs to pay attention, to be more aware of her body, because this keeps happening over and over. Bla bla bla. She looked me right in the eye and said, "Do you want me to not like myself?"
2.
Gala has been known for her quick, very direct questions and comments, like a boxer’s move, ever since she was little. Sometimes I forget and get caught off guard by it again. As soon as she said that, I felt my whole body melt: "Oh, you’re right! I’m so sorry," I said, in a gentle tone, but still a bit taken by her insight. She continued, as if the sky opened and angels sang while she gained a few decades of maturity: "I know I’ve been falling a lot, but telling me doesn’t help at all. It just makes me angrier. I’m trying."
3.
"Of course, you are. You’re doing it. You’re trying. I see it " I whispered, for her and for me—the 8-year-old me. For the three of us.
4.
That question stayed with me for a long time: Do you want me to not like myself? In her own way, she was describing to me, almost in slow motion, what can happen—and often does—when the world starts to steal, bit by bit, this thing we have inside of us - our basic goodness, replacing it with guilt, shame, inadequacy, and rejection.
5.
Pema Chödrön, a Tibetan Buddhist teacher, talks about this often. She uses this analogy: You have a tall glass of water, and then you add a spoonful of dirt and stir it up. What happens? The whole glass becomes muddy—you can’t see anything. However, if you stop stirring, the dirt begins to settle at the bottom, and the water starts to clear again.The stirring, the churning up of ourselves—if we stop, what remains? Our basic goodness, our natural state. This concept is often explored in Buddhism as a foundational place to return to within ourselves—a compass.
6.
“We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.” – Anaïs Nin
7.
This is one of those two sides of the coin theme. On one side are the ideas of self-love, self-worth, and self-acceptance. On the other side are self-abandonment and self-rejection. We’re tired of hearing about this, but they are closely connected—especially self-rejection, which over time can turn into an almost tangible feeling of disliking ourselves. This feeling arises as a way to anticipate the rejection we expect from the world: as children, if we learned how painful it was to be rejected repeatedly, as adults we "fix" the problem by rejecting ourselves first, before others or the world have the chance to do so.
8.
In Jungian psychology, self-rejection is intricately linked with the concept of the shadow. The shadow represents the parts of our personality that we do not accept, are unaware of, or actively reject. These aspects may be viewed as undesirable, immoral, or socially unacceptable and are therefore relegated to the unconscious. The more we reject parts of ourselves—whether emotions, desires, or traits—the stronger the shadow becomes.
9.
“The most terrifying thing is to accept oneself completely.” ― C.G. Jung
10.
This essay could also be titled: "On Things I’d Like to Be Better At." Brought to you by the creators of social media, which bombards us daily with subtle messages on how to dislike who we are - Be better, Do better, Eat Better, Work Better. On top of that, the world keeps falling apart in ways for which we have lost words. The inhumane atrocities we are witnessing, while others are experiencing them right now, make it even harder for us to consider what it means to return to our basic goodness. This is true; however, I must add a “however” here. These are symptoms of a disease that begins with self-rejection and profound self-hatred, projected onto others and whole communities. So if anything, even with our tied hands and helplessness, our work here is to like ourselves and those around us, or to at least try.
11.
I’ve been thinking about the concept of repair, a term often used in psychology, where we revisit moments of rupture and disconnection to acknowledge their impact on another person by taking responsibility. This is something extremely difficult to practice but powerfully healing for all relationships, starting with our own.
A few days after my conversation with Gala, I found myself still going in circles, reflecting on my tone and behavior, and disliking myself deeply. While cleaning her room, I came across a piece of paper with words from Dr. Becky Kennedy, a clinical psychologist and parenting superstar, that I had once written down for her: “Even as I struggle on the outside, I remain good inside.” Life sometimes has mysterious—I'd say clumsy—ways of reminding us who we are. I held that paper, looked up, and said to the air, “Okay, I get it.” A smile spread across my face as the eight-year-old me nodded in gratitude.
With Love,
Mariana
Pema Chödrön: seeing our basic goodness - the glass analogy
Another way to think about this idea of liking ourselves
Recently, I watched the documentary Will & Harper. In the story, Will Ferrell and his close friend, Harper Steele—former head writer at SNL—embark on a cross-country road trip after Harper comes out as a trans woman. While it's a film about transgender transition, it's also a heartfelt story about friendship, love, acceptance, and learning to like ourselves. It’s the kind of movie that feels like a comforting hand on your back when you need it most.
Speaking of friendships and stories that fill the heart and stay with us, I often find myself returning to a short story written for The Paris Review by Juliana Leite, one of the most talented Brazilian writers: My good friend.
From time to time, I revisit Bell Hooks’s book All about love and it always does something to me. Here’s an interview with her.
I really enjoyed these 2 episodes from Ezra Klein podcast: one was an exploration on our attention and this one was an amazing conversation with writer Zadie Smith
A new playlist (!!!)
If these themes resonate with you and you are interested in a deep, more personal experience, I support individuals, teams and new teachers in different capacities. If you need more information, you can find it here:
Private Sessions: One-on-One Contemplative Psychotherapy
Mentorship for New Teachers : One-on-One Mentoring Sessions to Beginner or New Teachers or people who wants additional training
Corporate Programs : Contemplative Program for Companies
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FREE MONTHLY COMMUNITY GATHERING
Friday, October 25 at 9am/pst (on Zoom)
As always, everyone is welcomed! We’ll meet our basic goodness. I introduce the topic, often do a quick reading of related material and we dive into the practice: breathing exercises + guided meditation. No need to talk/share, if there’s questions you can ask at the end or send me an email.
To join, visit here.
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
“The Way It Is” by William Stafford