I Thought Self-Improvement Would Make Me Happy. I Couldn’t Have Been More Wrong.
· Vice
If I could go back and tell my 20-something self anything, it’d be to stop prioritizing self-improvement over intentional living.
I’ve spent so many years trying to become my “best self” that I forgot who I was entirely. I over-analyzed every thought that crossed my mind, every feeling that passed through my body, every word I spoke to friends, every mood I fell into, until I became a project rather than a human. My desire to be perfect, to move through the world gracefully and detached, outweighed my purpose and passions.
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I was my absolute lowest when I was trying to be my absolute best.
How ironic?
My Quest For Self-Improvement
Many of us fall into the self-improvement void at some point in life. At first, we believe it might keep us safe from pain, heartbreak, rejection, drama, turmoil…but eventually, we realize it isn’t quite as “productive” or even protective as we’d assumed. At least, not when approached with some arbitrary, unattainable objective in mind.
It’s hard to make any sort of progress when you’re operating from a place of fear, self-hatred, and shame—and that’s exactly what I was doing. I stopped reading fiction so I could work my way through more self-help books. I prioritized exercise, journaling, meditating, and other healing modalities over my passions, like creative writing and baking. I canceled plans with friends and family on the weekends so I could get extra work done and meet my exercise goals. I avoided dating so I could learn how to make myself happy, afraid of needing another person to fill that hole I felt in my heart.
And—perhaps worst of all—I filtered my own thoughts and feelings to appear more grounded, without ever actually speaking my truth, not even to my closest people.
I was so deeply disconnected from myself for so many years that I actually ended up becoming the worst version of myself. Anxious, insecure, ashamed, and unfulfilled, I only attracted more negativity. Friends who preyed on my self-doubt. Partners who belittled my needs. Employers who spoke down to me. No matter how hard I worked on myself, it felt like the goalpost kept moving, getting further and further away.
I realized, over time, that I wouldn’t be happy with myself—wouldn’t be confident or feel worthy of love and acceptance—until I crossed a “finish line” that didn’t even exist.
Learning to Be Human Again
As silly as it sounds, I needed to learn how to be a human again. One with complex thoughts, deep feelings, and—much to my dismay—flaws and shortcomings.
I got so caught up with being my “best self” that I stopped being true to myself. For example, when someone would betray or mistreat me, rather than allowing myself to get angry and voice that frustration, I would pressure myself to handle the situation with grace. To be the bigger person, to take it on the chin and turn the other cheek.
I became so strict with my own behavior that I was afraid to ever open my mouth, speak up, or even be around other people, in fear that I would get set off and act in a way I wouldn’t be proud of. I knew, in doing so, I’d spend the next week shaming and blaming myself for my human tendencies.
But that’s not what healing looks like. The goal of healing is not to become this calm and polished version of yourself that never thinks a bad thought or speaks in a negative tone. Healing means trusting yourself and giving yourself a voice, while respecting those around you just the same.
As I tossed my self-help books aside and grabbed my fiction novels again, spending all evening reading instead of hitting the gym for once, I realized my favorite characters were far from perfect. In fact, all the qualities I shamed myself for having became my favorite parts of certain characters. I adored the sensitive, often dramatic heroine who drank too much coffee, the sassy protagonist who preferred cats over people, the intriguing antihero with an adrenaline addiction and a badass backstory.
I was drawn to authenticity, not to perfectionism. Often, the things we’re trying to fix about ourselves are part of what makes us who we are.
Now, I’m not saying you should use this as an excuse to go around hurting or harming yourself or others. Rather, I hope you realize that you don’t need to “solve” yourself, like some sort of puzzle. And even if you did, hating yourself—and depriving yourself of freely living without constant criticism—will not bring the outcome you’re desiring.
You’re allowed to be messy, to be someone’s cup of coffee rather than tea. To follow your instincts, pursue your passions, live with purpose, and lead with your heart—no matter how jaded it might be.
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