#242 – Where's the line between self-improvement and self-rejection?

"(...) The self-improvement market in the U.S. was worth $13.4 billion in 2022."

Source: Marketresearch.com

How many times have you heard someone call themselves a "self-improvement junkie?" If I had to guess, many.

I've never said the phrase, but have identified with the concept. My library borrowing history and the titles stored in my Audible show how much I've strived to become better.

A better coach, a better writer, a better long-distance runner, a better cook, a better vegan, a better perimenopausal woman, a better planner, a better [fill in the blank].

But did that apparent curiosity stem from a genuine desire to evolve – to "reach my potential," in industry parlance – or a deep dissatisfaction with myself?

Judging by my state of mind during the height of my addiction to "becoming," I'd say the latter.

One day I saw a picture on social media of a 58-year-old long-distance female runner looking happy, strong, and healthy. Compared to hers, my biceps lacked definition – I needed to do something, my Ego pressured.

Another day, listening to Brené Brown during my morning run, the Ghost of Misplaced Shame pointed its bony finger at me because I didn't have a team or invitations to share insights with cutting-edge business leaders. Could I ever reach that level?

Whenever I craved something sweet, I assumed I was being mischievous; whenever I felt like doing nothing, I was lazy. Then I'd promise myself to "eat better," "sleep better," "relax my nervous system better."

Yesterday, when my gums and teeth ached, my first instinct was to ask myself, "what have I done to make my teeth and gums hurt?" I reviewed everything I'd eaten recently – all non-processed, non-sugary, healthy stuff –, the times I'd forgotten to brush my teeth – practically zero –, and what might be making me clench my teeth while sleeping – having a son in jail doesn't help.

But suddenly I got it: what if it's not my fault? What if I don't need fixing?

Then I could release my grip and let go. Center around what's important to me and allow things to just be. Surrender to the flow of life – my body will age, my energy levels will fluctuate, my hunger will peak sometimes.

Approaching myself with curiosity, I ask myself: "what is this pain trying to tell me?" "What does my body need right now? A nap? A treat?" "What do I want a strong body for?"

Curiosity then extends to my mind, and I can immerse myself in things that feed my soul without any practical end goal. That's genuine growth, rooted in self-acceptance rather than a feeling of deficiency.

How might letting go of "better" create space for "true" in your life?

Love,

Carolina