Tag: self-love

The Courage to be Disliked

I wanted to be a good girl when I grew up. And I wanted to be a nice girl. What I really wanted underneath all that wishing was to be accepted and loved.

Being liked would have been a nice bonus, too, and, as a child, I thought it was an important part of the popularity package.

In terms of social trajectories as I got into my pre-teens and teens, it didn’t quite work out as I’d hoped.

Pain made me bitchy and short with people. Unresolved, the pain and my bitchiness grew in intensity and volume. This might have continued in perpetuity if I hadn’t had children.

Children forced me into a major emotional 180. I was no longer completely in control of everything. Foolishly, I still tried to be.

But slowly, instead of being exclusively externally focussed to define my ambitions, find acceptance, and grow in pride and self-love, that all started to change. By heck and by gosh.

Instead of “going along to get along,” as I had always tried to, my tactics started to change. Do I really believe what I am hearing from other people? Especially family members? Is his/her/their definition of success what I really believe? Or how I want to live?

More and more, the answer became no. It certainly didn’t make me very popular. Certainly not in my family of origin. At a certain point, it started to not matter. I accepted I was “different” from the rest of my family. I became okay with that.

I have experienced the most joy and personal feeling of success and accomplishment far away from my family of origin. But for years, I was deeply enmeshed and dependent on them for emotional validation. Until that stopped working.

It was not a quick fix. It took years to separate from them. It took the death of both parents. It took a lot of years of processing what I had been through and starting to imagine what I wanted my life to be.

I could have used this book I just found back in the day. It accentuates my underlying belief that sometimes you have to lose everything to finally get everything. The only opinion that really matters at the end of the day is yours. If someone agrees with you and backs you up, bonus.

“The Courage to Be Disliked” by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga is a profound book that presents a dialogue between a philosopher and a young man, exploring the concepts of individual happiness and personal freedom through the lens of Alfred Adler’s psychology.

The book delves into how we can liberate ourselves from self-imposed limitations and societal expectations to find genuine happiness.

Here are some key lessons from the book

1. Freedom from the Opinions of Others: The book emphasizes the importance of detaching our self-worth from the opinions of others. It argues that worrying about what others think of us leads to a constrained life where actions are taken not for personal satisfaction but for external validation.

2. The Past Does Not Determine the Future: A central tenet of Adlerian psychology is that our past experiences do not dictate our future. The book challenges the common belief that past traumas and experiences are the cause of our current unhappiness. Instead, it suggests that we have the power to reinterpret our past and choose actions that lead to a happier future.

3. The Goal of Community Feeling: Adlerian psychology posits that a sense of community and belonging is crucial for individual happiness. “The Courage to Be Disliked” teaches that contributing to the well-being of others without expecting anything in return can lead to profound personal satisfaction and a sense of connection with the wider world.

4. Separation of Tasks: The concept of the separation of tasks is crucial in Adlerian psychology. It involves understanding what is within our control and what is not. By focusing on our own tasks and not overstepping into others’ responsibilities, we can maintain healthy relationships and a sense of personal autonomy.

5. The Courage to Be Happy: True happiness requires the courage to change and to be disliked. The book posits that fear of criticism and rejection often holds people back from pursuing what genuinely makes them happy. Embracing the possibility of being disliked for making choices true to oneself is presented as a pathway to freedom and happiness.

6. Self-Acceptance: A significant barrier to happiness is the lack of self-acceptance. The dialogue explores how accepting oneself, with all flaws and shortcomings, is a step toward genuine happiness. It suggests that self-acceptance allows individuals to make positive changes without being hindered by feelings of inferiority.

7. Contribution to Society: Adlerian psychology suggests that making contributions to society is a source of happiness. The book discusses how acts of kindness and contributing to the welfare of others can enhance one’s sense of purpose and satisfaction in life.

8. Living in the Here and Now: The book encourages living in the present rather than being anchored to the past or overly concerned about the future. It suggests that focusing on the here and now allows for a more engaged and fulfilling life.

“The Courage to Be Disliked” offers a compelling argument for reevaluating our approaches to happiness and personal freedom. By incorporating Adlerian principles into our lives, the authors suggest that we can overcome feelings of inadequacy and live more fulfilling, autonomous lives.

Book: https://amzn.to/49olduR

Shot Down

I wish I was spiritually evolved enough to roll with life’s punches and “see the lesson” in them as they hit. I am not. I ruminate more than I should over woundings and insults whether they are hurled intentionally or not.

The house build behind us is moving forward. I did everything I could to intervene and stop it. I stalled it by a month but my overall attempt has failed. The house markers have been set in the ground. A white pickup truck with an engineering logo on its side doors regularly visits the property no doubt finalizing the build strategy. The Wildlife Commission wrote an email this week to say there is no gopher tortoise violation on the “subject property” as I had hoped.

The die – as they say – appear to have been cast.

Part of me thinks this is instant karma. Punishment from the Universe for cutting a real estate agent we’d been working with – no binding contract but more of an implicit arrangement – out of the closing. We had to move fast and efficiently to get the house, I reckoned. Part of me knows I am rationalizing.

Fear-based thinking. Again.

There was a something that lingered in the air above this house deal though. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. That may sound a little too flakey for most of you. It is too flakey and “oooie, oooie” for me to take seriously. But I wonder.

I think of all the ways in which this development could be worse. I think of the chaos and upheaval of Israelis and Palestinians preparing for the savagery of war. I reflect on seeing an arm uncovered in the rubble of that Gaza hospital and the horrible news that will be delivered to a family. Many families in this case. I think about Ukrainians returning to where their family homes once stood and learn they have been obliterated by bombs.

My troubles are so small by comparison. Miniscule. But they are my troubles. I feel I need to stand up for them and give them their emotional due. I spent years ignoring and diminishing hurtful events in my life. They just backed up inside of me.

I would explode disproportionately when some other minor insult triggered the backed up, unhealed hurt inside of me. The earlier hurt hadn’t been dealt with so it could dissipate. It had merely gone underground waiting to rear its ugly head when triggered – usually by a more minor threat by a relatively innocent bystander.

It is common for people to ignore or diminish troubles of others when those troubles don’t affect them personally. There is a human tendency to feel a sense of sympathy and concern about others’ misfortunes and an equal measure of relief because it isn’t happening to them.

We all encounter problems on our journey in life. Mostly we are thankful when someone else’s tragedy does not touch our own life. When tragedy does strike us, we pray for the grace and strength to face and overcome it. It is one of life’s toughest learnings.

People are not comfortable generally with strong feelings. Either their own or someone else’s. We like our shared illusion of a calm and stable society.

If strong feelings were easily accepted and as easily processed, the booze and illicit drug business would collapse. Angry people are called “hysterical” unless the listener has buy-in with the issue people are angry about. I think of Trump and his legions of followers who eagerly slurp up his incessant brand of outrage over hard done by “patriots” like him.

It is so automatic to shush a child who is crying healing tears. It is common to accuse a woman of “being dramatic” when a sudden, inconceivable loss bends her in half convulsed in tears. Or her husband has beaten her senseless and is holding her children hostage in a bitter custody case.

Unbelievably, Alex Jones accused grieving Sandy Hook parents of delusion when their children were mowed down by a madman toting an AR-15. Jones finally came to justice but not before numerous grieving parents were tortured and belittled by Jones’ ardent followers.

The insinuation of grief creeps slowly into our lives. It is easier to manage when we are young, we reason, because we are more resilient. We can certainly move on faster. When we’re older, the processing of grief is usually more internal. “Stiff, upper lip” syndrome comes into play.

Loss is a fact of life. Some losses we can easily identify and readily relate to. Other losses are more personal and nuanced. How we learn to handle loss is spread across a very wide continuum.

So I accept that I am on a grieving path. For trees. And a view. And a dream of peace and solitude that will soon be irrevocably shattered. Does it matter in the grand scheme of things? Of course not. But does it matter to me? Absolutely.

I have learned that self-love and self-respect means owning all of our feelings and failings and giving them their due until they have been integrated into your heart and psyche. Life is not an endless series of “happy, happy, happy.” I challenge anyone to show me someone whose life is.

Change is inevitable and pain is manageable. I take this recent loss as another opportunity to apply what I’ve learned about managing disappointment. And of course, I wish I didn’t have to. I’m only human, after all.