Unfinished Conversations

It’s the new year!

I hope your celebrations made you happy – whether it involved dancing the night away, doing something more lowkey, reflecting on the year, being with family, or just catching up on sleep after a hectic Christmas. Happy 2024!

I want to share a few unfiltered, feather-ruffley thoughts about something I see every single time a new year rolls around. It’s not a new thing, and I’ve actually been working on this essay for a couple of months now. But the start of the year feels like the right time to publish it!

The thing I’m talking about is the barrage of posts championing a very specific brand of self-improvement. The kind that elevates the SELF to a near god-like status. It tells you that if you want to be happier, better, and more successful, you need to put YOU first, and get rid of everything and everyone that doesn’t benefit your own growth journey.

It whispers seductively that your best, or ‘highest’ self can be achieved by focusing just on YOU. You, above everything and everyone else. YOU first. Cut out the stuff that doesn’t serve you. YOUR needs only. The things that aren’t making you happy, that stress you out, that don’t benefit YOU – good riddance.

You don’t need that.

And without all that toxic drain of time and energy, you can retreat into a shiny cocoon of self-improvement activities, self-care apps, and therapy sessions. You will emerge at the end of the year as a polished, invincible individual – the kind you’ve always dreamed of being – without the trivial dramas of human interaction and their inevitable stupidity.

It’s a neat, appealing narrative. It’s also spectacularly wrong.

Now, because I’m so painfully uncomfortable at the idea of being misunderstood, let me put some genuine disclaimers here:

I’m not here to throw shade at the concept of self-care as a whole. I’m not critiquing what self-care ACTUALLY IS, which literally means taking care of your emotional and mental well-being. I am also not making light of real moments when self-preservation is truly the only remedy for one’s distress. I’m not saying we ought to put up with situations or people that cause harm to us.

You can’t pour from an empty cup. It’s essential to tend to your own garden before you can help others bloom. Sacrificing your hopes, dreams, and desires at the altar of others’ demands isn’t just unwise; it’s also unsustainable. I don’t advocate for any of those things.

I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about self-indulgent self-care. I’d say the majority of these ‘ME first’ posts are shared by people who might otherwise fit the trope of being too nice, and after years of being the go-to person for everyone else, find themselves stretched too thin and under-appreciated.

The solution, apparently, is to swing to the opposite extreme: be nice only when it benefits you and your growth.

I have a problem with how this brand of self-care sounds on the outside. It often insists that you’re surrounded by toxic people who are trying to either drain you, get something from you, or hurt you, and the only way to ever become the person you’re meant to be is to cut them all off and instead find other ‘healed’ people who don’t hurt you, or depend on you, or force you to feel difficult or tiring emotions.

After reading a little more about this, I found that while the core message is the same, there’s a slightly different version aimed at men and women. There’s a guy version of this type of self-indulgent self-care that, interestingly, tells you to disappear. Disappear for 3 months, for a year, become a ghost, and work, work, work. It usually contains a list of things you ought to do to emerge as your best self.

This video has over 3 million views, and the comments are jam-packed with people making promises to themselves, over and over, sometimes coming back to their comment a year later and talking about whether this worked. Most cases, they said nope, but they’re trying again this year.

“Focus on me, work on me, Improve me, Creating the best version of yourself I am going to let go of everything, that is negative in my life and work, work and work until my life is a representation of who I want to be, someone I am proud to be. Sacrifice behind closed doors, so more doors will open for you in the future.”

– A snippet from the video

Self-indulgent self-care aimed at women is less about the work, and more about having the courage to prioritize yourself above others. The goal is to get women to put themselves first, let go of expectations, and just be. Honestly, I get it. Somewhat.

If you’ve been conditioned to believe that you’re responsible for the happiness of those around you, this message is refreshing and liberating. But it’s still incomplete.

If you’ve resonated with this messaging, I am NOT trying to shame you. I love you. Please hear me. At some level, we all have resonated with this, and it has helped us.

So what’s wrong with being self-reliant?

Nothing. In fact, I’d say it’s hardly surprising that since COVID and all the social distancing, we learnt that self-preservation involved isolation. But instead of using this ‘pandemic of loneliness’ as a wake-up call to strengthen relationships with other human beings in community, there’s been a noticeable shift towards increased self-interest.

This isn’t just about survival instincts kicking in; it’s a deeper, more concerning change.

While being independent and self-reliant are traits that we ought to pursue and admire, the extreme idealization of hyper-independence seems problematic to me. The notion that you don’t need anyone, and that people are just obstacles to your growth – this thinking quietly feeds into a ruthless mindset that subtly undermines the sense of community that we need.

And I get it, most times the idea is to let go of people that either drag you down, don’t respect your needs, and cause you to become a version of yourself that you don’t like. But there’s very little nuance in how this messaging is delivered.

This you-first-screw-everyone-else mantra promises a frictionless journey to self-actualization, where the only obstacle is, well, other people. But here’s the deal: people, with all their flaws, quirks, and dumb issues, aren’t just obstacles on our path to self-improvement. They are sometimes the road we travel on to get there.

The idea that you can fix or optimize yourself in the absence of the very relationships that shape, challenge, and yes, sometimes wound you, seems deeply flawed.

Everyone else’s needs are NOT a constant threat to your own self-improvement.

In her legendary essay ‘no good alone,’ Rayne Fisher-Quann says:

“Relationships with other complex, flawed people are beautiful and transformative and fulfilling, but they’re also inherently maddening, infuriating, hurtful, stressful, and yes, triggering.

It is ideal, of course, for us to work to understand those conflicts and thereby make them less destructive to ourselves and others, but we can’t make those feelings disappear; nothing real can have contact without friction. If you’ve been encouraged to define a healthy life as a frictionless one, I think it may be inevitable that a life devoid of contact starts to feel like healing.”

The unpleasant fact is that the only common denominator in a stressful work environment, a difficult relationship, a friendship that’s on edge, and a family situation that is far from ideal – is you. And while others may contribute to your struggles, cutting them out won’t magically reveal the parts of you that might be responsible for your own pain.

Is it our job to ‘fix’ each other?

It’s a difficult question to answer, because it’s a difficult thing to do. Obviously.

Fixing each other is a common theme especially in romantic relationships, where the emotional heavy-lifting often falls lopsidedly onto one partner. Usually the woman.

Let’s be clear: putting up with bad behavior isn’t a form of love. You can’t destroy yourself to save someone you love. We can’t prevent abuse from happening to us by becoming better, more considerate, more patient or a more tolerant person. That’s false and dangerous thinking.

Accepting this misguided responsibility shifts the burden of preventing abuse onto the victim, a weight no one should be compelled to bear. Nobody should feel like it’s their responsibility to make someone stop hurting them.

I feel like this is an important caveat to get out of the way in the middle of this essay about keeping people in your life. It’s not your job to hold onto everyone that you cross paths with, or to fix them – and I think the internet talks about this enough.

So what about ✨boundaries✨

We looooove boundaries. Boundaries are the best. This invisible line-drawing exercise will certainly be the cure for all that is wrong in our life. Set your boundaries right and boom – your partner won’t need a reminder to do chores, your fridge will always be stocked, your dishes always clean, your boss always understanding. Your parents will support your dreams. Your toddler will pick up after themselves.

And when night time comes and you see a message from your friend asking for help, you will reply saying ‘Thanks for messaging me, but I’m at capacity right now, emotionally.’ But before you put your phone away, you get an email from your understanding boss saying that you’ve been given a raise.

With the right boundaries, your shiny head will hit the pillow and you’ll be asleep in a flash because you’ve protected your peace so👏damn👏hard👏

Well done, you.

Now I’m clearly being stupid and pointlessly poking fun at this behavior because I truly think therapy-speak has gotten out of hand. Again, I have nothing against the right boundaries. I’ve implemented them in my own life (not always in time) but here’s something I’ve noticed about boundaries for myself:

I usually only draw boundaries when something painful happens. Or now, when I anticipate something painful happening. 

It’s after I’ve been emotionally steamrolled that I do a little post-mortem analysis of the damage to figure out what went wrong – ahhh that’s it!!! – a boundary was crossed. One that I didn’t know existed, but well now, there’s a boundary there.

It’s a neat little trick for repackaging our pain and hurt as a violation, a clean and clinical term that keeps our messy, raw feelings safely tucked away. This kind of thinking is convenient because it gives me something to say to the perpetrator without having to expose my bleeding, wounded self.

It’s much easier to tell someone, “Hey, I don’t think we should be in contact anymore because of XYZ thing. I’m setting a boundary here.” than it is to say, “I cried for nights over what happened, and it still hurts. Is there a way we can fix this?” Nobody wants to say that. Nobody wants to be that person.

So instead, we give them some talk about boundaries, and if they nod and agree to this new paradigm, we both get to enjoy a moment of hopeful illusion that dealing with hurt is as easy as drawing a line in the sand. Except, it isn’t.

Drawing lines in the sand might keep pain at bay, but it doesn’t do much for healing or recovery. It’s often just a fancy way of boxing ourselves in, avoiding the real, messy work of fixing what’s broken.

The first time I properly understood how boundaries work was in therapy. I understood my responsibility in prioritizing what matters to me and not blaming others for overstepping.

Therapy can be a lifeline for countless people, I discovered that for myself far too late. But despite its crucial role in supporting mental health, therapy can’t replace the unique and irreplaceable support that we ought to get from community.

It’s a valuable tool but it isn’t the whole toolbox. The rest of the tools are, well, the people around you. Your family, your friends, the people you’re forced to interact with and work with.

Say ❌ to the toxic narcissistic gaslight mansplaining trauma-dumping triggerin––

We’re wandering around a little, but we’ll get somewhere together. I promise! STAY WITH ME PLS I CAN’T BE ALONE.

I’d say that a lot of this self-indulgent self-care culture comes down to how we use language. We’ve started to see a lot of normal challenges and hurdles in relationships as pathologies. When we brand all conflict as abuse, and words like narcissistic, toxic, and gaslighting get thrown around freely, I’m usually cautious.

That kind of language and labelling makes it easier to just get rid of people without asking ourselves (or them) any deeper questions.

Historically, the ethos of self-care was rooted in the idea of nurturing one’s own well-being to contribute more effectively to the community and society at large. It was about creating a balance between self-fulfillment and social responsibility, ensuring that one’s personal health did not detract from – but rather improved – their ability to support others.

But now, it’s morphed into a version of self-centeredness that basically goes: Take care of yourself so that you can achieve all your goals and become the best version of you and attract the life you want!!! You deserve the best!!! Fill up your cup so that you’re the chick with the full cup all the time and everyone else can be like, wow how does she do it? 

This type of thinking rarely forces us to confront uncomfortable realities that other people present. And the sad news is that we all, for the most part, have to interface with other uncomfortable people. We all have to face the world at large.

If our self-care nudges us to view relationships as transactional,
If our goal is to optimize our time only for personal gain,
If everything that doesn’t serve us on our personal journey is branded as a waste of time,
I think that form of self-care is, yep, toxic.

It prioritizes the self to such an extent that it risks alienating the individual from the very communal and social connections that are fundamental to our human experience.

Again, I’m reiterating: It’s fine to put yourself first, but if it’s your default setting at the expense of things that might benefit and stretch you, don’t be surprised if your progress looks shakier than you expected.

“Isolationists have one very strong argument on their side — when you’re alone, there’s no one there to hurt you, even accidentally. There’s no one there to throw your own flaws into stark relief. There’s no one who you might hurt with bursts of uncontrollable emotion or human carelessness. It’s hard to be hurt, and perhaps even harder to hurt the people you love — why not cut the risk, lock the doors, and live a life of robotic, impersonal, action-oriented optimization? 

The answer, of course, is that none of us are any good alone.”

– Rayne Fisher-Quann

I don’t think the path to self-improvement is solitary

Human beings are inherently complex and messy. They won’t always respect your boundaries. They don’t exist to ‘serve’ you along your improvement journey. Many interactions with people you truly love will be riddled with flaws and misunderstandings in the coming year. This is just a fact.

But we are also deeply relational beings. We cannot self-actualize on our own; our fullest potential and greatest happiness is achieved within relationships and community. I get that it’s not conventional to think that way, but I believe it’s the truth.

You cannot improve yourself by eliminating everything and everyone that feels uncomfortable for you. For starters, things that serve you cannot turn you into something you are not. They can’t make you more patient, they don’t make you more tolerant. They don’t force you to be kind in situations when it’s easier not to be.

Ironically, it’s often when we’re confronted with situations and people that DON’T serve us that we truly dig deep and grow. These challenging and inconvenient parts of life — the difficult people, tough conversations, and uncomfortable situations — they force us to reflect, make better choices, love more deeply, forgive more fully, and engage in the hard, and deeply unglamorous work of genuine self-improvement. It’s in grappling with life’s discomforts, not avoiding them, that we evolve.

I’m not saying ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. Like, I don’t think we ought to chase down problematic people to practice growing in patience. I’m just saying people are a mixed bag. Life is a mixed bag. To believe that you can start 2024 strong and avoid those annoying truths is silly.

In my opinion, things that serve you usually just make you more of what you already are, and I think it’s hard for us to reconcile the fact that we aren’t perfect. I’m not saying this in a 🥺cute🥺 way, because if there’s one thing I know about people, it’s that they LOVE to talk about how they aren’t perfect.

But every single time I act ‘imperfectly’ I have good reason for it. I consider my actions justified. There is an explanation for my toxic behavior. And I’m not alone in this thinking.

I recently saw this reel by Ian McAlister, an Instagram personality with over 600k followers, that asked people to leave comments with ‘The most toxic thing they have ever done.’

Now I get why people might be uncomfortable disclosing that, but the internet is full of unhinged people, so I figured some might really let loose. At least via the fake accounts they create for trolling purposes or something.

What I saw was bewildering but not surprising. Comment after comment listed out the ‘toxic thing that they did.’ The confessions were eye-opening yet utterly predictable. Each admission of guilt came with a ‘but’ – a justification of their actions because, apparently, they were wronged first.

And then what followed was a chorus of validation, assuring these self-confessed wrongdoers that their actions weren’t toxic, but deserved. And sure, maybe their cheating scumbag boyfriends DID deserve it.

Because it’s just soooo inconceivable that any of us have been guilty of wrongdoing without first being wronged ourselves, isn’t it?

Don’t you know that you’re toxic?

That was for me. I’ve been toxic.

I think of all the times I’ve inflicted pain on those who never wronged me. I think about the moments when people had every right to walk away from me, and sometimes, they did. I think of people I lied to because it was easier than telling them a hard truth. I think of all the ways I’ve copped out and been flaky, untrustworthy, and selfish.

I’ve been the source of hurt, even to those I loved. And I promise, you probably have done the same.

This isn’t to beat myself up. I don’t do that anymore. I’ve been tirelessly working at being better. Each day is a reminder that, despite my shortcomings, I am capable of change. I’m still aiming for progress, and it’s working.

We honestly cannot see our own faults that well. We think we can, and some of us are far too critical of ourselves. But I’m not talking about the cute faults, I’m talking about the real shortcomings. We’re all pretty good at spotting selfishness, unkindness, or arrogance in others. However, when it comes to seeing those same traits in ourselves? Not so much.

It’s easier to justify our actions, blame circumstances, or claim we were provoked. It’s harder to admit that maybe we’re the problem. Those realizations usually happen in conflict with other people, and not through deep introspection.

When I reflect on the mistakes I’ve made in my multiple attempts at self-improvement, I’ve had to acknowledge that not all of my growing pains were just my own pain. Much of it was also the pain I caused others.

Sometimes the journey of self-improvement involves bearing the consequences for our reprehensible behavior with the understanding that forgiveness is never owed. This is part of the human experience. It sucks, but it’s important.

Rayne Fisher-Quann touches on this hardship in her writing:

“Being alone is hard, but it’s also deceptively easy — it requires nothing of us. People, on the other hand, challenge us. They infuse our life with stakes. You can hurt a friend or partner or lose them forever if you refuse vulnerability or reject growth — the same cannot be said of a therapist, for instance, which makes them far safer companions.”

Shortly after graduating college, I remember hitting an astonishingly low point in my life. I had become a person I absolutely couldn’t stand. The kind that cared only about herself, and not in a self-improvement kind of way. In an unsure-of-how-to-care-for-others kind of way.

I had no spine. I was deeply insecure. I felt jealous of everyone around me, and I would numb everything I felt with troubling amounts of alcohol. I didn’t let anyone in. And I treated many people badly just to make sure they stayed out. I got into the worst relationships where behavior like this was normalized.

I well and truly felt like I’d lost myself, and I was alone.

In that time, self-indulgent self-care might’ve told me that by cutting out all the bad influences from my life, I’ll somehow be fixed – as if everything that was going wrong with my life was an outcome of something external, and not possibly something internal.

But in the midst of that, I received an unexpected gift. I was surrounded by people that refused to leave me alone to fix myself.

They’re people I desperately wish could have seen me ONLY at my healed and optimized best, and yet there they were, bearing witness to my failures and vulnerabilities without distancing themselves in order to protect their peace.

In the process, I did have to let go of things and people that weren’t helping me get to where I needed to be, but I was far from alone. I had people sitting with me and helping me rebuild myself.

I recognize how fortunate I am to have had people like this in my life, and I am acutely aware that not everyone has the same level of support. This is why my perspective and insight in this regard have clear limitations. For those who tread these turbulent waters alone, I hope you find a community that sees you. I’ve tried my best to pay it forward with people in my life and be a friend, even when it didn’t benefit me.

In 2024, I want to care about people that aren’t essential to my personal growth. I want to be less offended. I want to be less proud. I want to take things less personally. I want to respect people even though they make mistakes. I want to be more compassionate. I want to be more humble, and think of others more highly than I think of myself. I want to be kind. And I can’t do any of this alone.

I invite you to join me in a commitment to better ourselves not just by looking inward, but by extending ourselves outward. Real growth will happen when we try, at least TRY to do the challenging work of helping each other, rather than just telling each other to go get help.