I can’t remember the last time I went a whole day without berating or criticizing myself. Yesterday I ate “too much” ice cream, last week everything I wrote was crap, and today I looked slow and terrible on my morning run. I’m a master of picking myself apart.
As Taylor Swift says in her song, Antihero, “I’m the problem, it’s me.”
Why is it so hard to be kind rather than beating myself up over ice cream? That ice cream brought me joy. I had a tough time writing last week, so I’ll try focusing more this week. I went for a run this morning and it felt good to move my body.
The non-judgmental thoughts take more time and effort to develop than the knee-jerk critical ones. The more I listen to other people talk about themselves, the more apparent it becomes that it’s a widespread issue.