the first installment in a week-long series exploring our rituals of talking to ourselves
this happened: our baby was born.
and then this happened: the things that i say--and even just silently think--about myself became very, super-duper, incredibly, intensely noticeable to me.
here are some examples--positive, negative, and...well...complicated:
- i look like crap today.
- oh man, i'm an idiot.
- mama can't do anything right. ["mama" is referring to me, not to my own mama, who does almost everything right.]
- i rocked that.
- everyone's going to think i'm [insert negative adjective here].
- look: i can fit into my non-pregnant jeans again!
- i think i can really help with that.
- i'm stressed out, okay?!
- i'm awesome at figuring out those kinds of problems.
- i don't care what he thinks of me.
- i just tried to be a good friend to her.
- we're having the most fun ever, and i am hilarious.
- i'm not doing as much creative work as [insert person, usually a woman, to whom i am comparing myself negatively here].
- i am the luckiest person on the planet.
- i am supermama.
- i sounded like a moron.
- i'm really freakin' good at that.
now, i consider myself to be a pretty self-confident person. on the whole--from a bird's-eye view--i really do think i'm smart and kind and a good friend and creative and have things to offer the world. and still, my daily soundtrack tends to be pretty rough on me.
when i say or think these things now, i automatically click to how i'd feel if my daughter were saying or thinking them about herself. and often, i don't like it.
so i'm trying to change my daily soundtrack. and it's hard to do.
i'd love to hear from the non-mamas and non-papas, as well as the parents out there: when do you hear what you're saying to yourself most clearly? and how do you change it when you don't love what you hear?
