A negative sense of self is at the core of all mental-health struggles; the differences are only a matter of degree. For many years now, many people have attempted to remedy the problem of low self-worth with things like positive thinking, random behavioral changes, and psychotropic medications. The self-help industry continues to grow at a rapid rate, and I read recently that it’s now estimated to be a 10-billion-dollar industry. This suggests that many people are attempting to “take control” of their lives and their unhappiness—a natural step in our steadfast, “do-it-yourself” culture. These sorts of psychological problems, we assume, are problems that can be solved with sheer determination and willpower. We just need the right book, instructional video, or mantra, and from there, we will do it all by ourselves!
With a thousand or so positive affirmations a day, we are led to believe that we will finally be delivered to the Everland of Good-Enoughness. And this is often a central belief held by many authors, counselors, coaches, family members, and even our best friends, many of whom truly do want the best for us (and for us to see what they may see in us). And so… if after years of positive self-talk and the like, our self-concept hasn’t improved, well, then it is often assumed, unfortunately, that maybe we really are that damaged and undeserving; while others assume, we just don’t want it bad enough.
However, when it comes to improving our self-worth, what if most people have had the wrong strategy the whole time? What if, despite the billions of dollars invested, there was never any real way to “self-help” our way to a more positive self-concept and sense of worthiness in the first place?
I believe one reason we remain stuck has to do with how we think about and understand the problem and its origins to begin with. For starters, the way the problem is labeled is misleading. When we recognize that we suffer from having a low sense of “self-worth,” for example, it certainly sounds like it’s the “self” that is responsible for whatever level of “worth” we carry. However, the “self” is not where our sense of self-worth originates.
Instead, our sense of worth primarily comes from how we were treated by “others” during our developmental years when we were tiny, helpless, exceptionally needy little beings who couldn’t offer much to the world, and yet required tremendous amounts of patience, attention, love and understanding. If those responsible for meeting the immense amount of innate, biological and psychological demands were in anyway handicapped or limited in capacity, our neediness would have been punished or neglected at that capacity limit. When such experiences occur (as is almost universal these days, with degree being what separates us), the child comes to believe that they are too much, not wanted, or unlovable (and worse yet, also responsible for the happiness, or lack thereof, of their caregivers).
Through the ways we are treated and responded to in our early life experiences, we learn through our direct experience (the most powerful method of learning), that our needs are burdensome to others, and because we have no other option but to rely on those same people for our survival, we must also begin the process of needing less, of being less, which requires an inner war of self-denial to begin. Essentially, as dependent children, we feel responsible for how others treat and respond to us during this stage of life, and if we get the message that we are too much (physically or psychologically), we end up working very hard to become less in order to maintain the attachment we rely on for our survival.
This ability is a rather remarkable strategy for survival by the organism, but it is not without significant consequences, which inevitably show up as mental-health issues in later years. If, for example, we have a psychological need that was rejected, shamed, or led us to being sent away (abandonment), we then begin suppressing that need. Unfortunately, however, while that suppression may help keep the peace and prevent the overstressing of caregivers, it does not make the need go away. Instead, that part of ourselves gets exiled and driven deep into our subconscious. In this relegation to the shadowlands of the soul, we lock that part of ourselves away from view to ourselves and others, in an effort to ensure the minimal needs required for physical survival are at least satisfactorily met, and no further damage to our soul occurs. This is an amazing psychic capacity: To be able to prevent additional psychological wounds from registering at a time when we are unable to handle the emotional gravity of certain life events is truly marvelous. Unfortunately, however, the damages are equally significant.
As a result of these types of experiences, the self-worth we carry into adulthood is a direct reflection of how effectively our needs were met by our caregivers early on. If our self-concept is low, it is a reflection of how little our needs (especially our psychological needs) were effectively met, and not in any way a marker of our actual worth. As such, a negative sense of self rarely reflects the truth of who we are; rather, it is a reflection of the limitations of our caregivers.
Once we learn that our sense of self was predominately set via “other” influences, then we can begin to understand why it’s so hard, if not impossible, to change much of it on our own. With this new understanding surrounding the importance that others play in the development of a healthy self-concept, we finally have a clearer path to authentic recovery. From here, we can search for someone who can help us accept the parts of us that we have been unable to accept previously—those parts that were punished, abandoned, or neglected during our developmental years. This can be a very difficult task and even a dangerous one in modern times: if we choose the wrong person, we will invariably have our negative self-beliefs reinforced, not eradicated; however, should we find someone with the understanding and love we have always needed but never received, the relief and recovery realized is palpable.
Should we be lucky enough to eventually find someone capable of accepting the parts of us that were previously rejected (again, typically our emotionally vulnerable parts that felt deep pain, sadness, fear, anger, rage, shame, etc.), and should we find the courage to show them those parts of ourselves, then our core self-beliefs—initiated through the power of direct experience—are shattered. No longer watered down with wondering if we are okay as we are (without any real-world proof), we now have had the power of a fully felt, direct experience with someone that actually shows us that these previously rejected parts are not only okay but accepted and welcomed as well. This is what happens in the ideal therapeutic experience, and it has been the precursor to the most incredible transformations I’ve witnessed or experienced to date.
Finding this type of acceptance from another is a true blessing in this lifetime. Sadly, it’s becoming harder and harder to find in our overly wounded society, and many people will never find it during the entirety of their lives. Worse yet, some people will be harmed by the actions of the others when they choose the wrong person to show their woundedness too. I am disgusted to have known of stories where “helpers,” including licensed professionals, have taken advantage of this vulnerability in others, sexually and otherwise, which is of course, one reason many people try to do their healing work alone—to minimize the risk of being further harmed. There is a point, I believe, where we can no longer afford to take the risk of being hurt by someone else. We can take only so many punches before we are knocked unconscious, never able to enter the ring again.
Many people have a serious dilemma on their hands: Yes, we are safer from additional harm while working alone, but we are also seriously limited with how much we can influence and change working alone as well. Yes, it is hard to find someone who has done enough of their own recovery work to guide us into the wounded parts of our soul with honor and respect. However, there is just no decent substitute I have come across for the power that this type of healing experience offers, so I firmly believe it’s worth investing the time in it. It may take years to find this person (no, I’m not exaggerating, it is that rare in modern times), but there are ways of diminishing the chances of picking the wrong person to travel to the depths of our being with, which I have discussed here. For now, please remember: It is not a matter of desire that determines someone’s ability to be helpful, it’s a matter of capacity, which is gained from that person’s own recovery path, and if during your investigation of their potential qualifications they say anything other than it was the most difficult thing they’ve ever experienced, you can safely consider them unqualified. This work is hard, very hard! But so far, of those who’ve found the courage, I have yet to hear anyone say it wasn’t worth it as well.
To summarize: In our work to improve our sense of self, we are looking for another to help us see ourselves as loveable. They offer this not by telling us that we are loveable, but by showing us we are loveable. In order for that to happen, two things must occur simultaneously: 1) We must eventually show them the parts that we find unacceptable in ourselves. It is not sufficient to tell them, for when we do, there is a voice in the back of the head that says, “Yeah, but they wouldn’t think that if they really knew how crazy, dramatic, pathetic, etc. I am.” And 2) we must choose a psychologically healthy and capable individual to show those vulnerable protected parts to. If we show someone something that they haven’t accepted in themselves yet, they will almost invariably reject that part in us too, and we can be further hurt in the process. But when both criteria are met, healing happens, and we gain self-confidence and the ability to continue building on that foundation.
This is why we must choose who we invite into our vulnerable woundedness with great care and discernment, and also why we cannot do it all alone. If the wound was created in relationship, healing must also happen in the context of relationship. If in our early experience we were taught that our needs were too much, then we will continue to believe we are too much until we have an experience with someone who doesn’t react the same way. The kind of core beliefs that come from direct experience cannot be overridden through the cognitive-behavioral process alone. Such interventions are simply no match in strength to get the job done. Like a forest fire that requires water to be extinguished, it’s going to take more than standing in front of an oncoming blaze with a fully loaded Super Soaker to get the job done: It’s going to take a powerful rainstorm to extinguish those magnificent flames. Similarly, when our core beliefs originated in a powerful, vulnerable experience, it will require an equally strong emotional experience in order for us to begin wiggling free from the old messaging rooted in past experience.