I’m back on social media after a month away, and I’m feeling weird about it tbh. When I dare to risk being sucked into the infinite scroll of The Feeds, I’m simultaneously under- and overwhelmed, which is a supremely curious sensation. On the one hand, I’m just over it – how many times can you implored to run, not walk, to Amazon before it grows tiresome? – and on the other, I can feel my brain cells unwillingly cataloging the endless flow of insecurities being created in a lab somewhere and disseminated to the masses. I’m tempted to share a particularly outrageous one about having arms that are thicker at the top than at the wrist (like, you know, a normal human being), but I will spare you the silliness. Still, even the most cursory scroll always shocks me: I had no idea there were so many things wrong with me that can be easily remedied by merely clicking on an affiliate link!
The girls gotta eat (and be housed, and clothed, etc.), so I won’t knock the hustle. But it’s more obvious to me now than it was a month ago that a key driver of our click-and-ship culture is the fact that so many of us are convinced that we have some fatal flaw that must be fixed before we can finally have a good life. That fix, naturally, will be just the right product. This isn’t the case, of course, and I’ve written before on the futility of trying to rectify an internal problem with an external solution. But over time I’ve realized that the real cause of this disconnect is the fact that we don’t really have to “change” as such – we simply have to make different choices.
For years I struggled to implement several habits in my life, from things as small as making my bed every morning to tasks as consequential as building a daily writing habit. When I would get frustrated enough with the state of my life, I’d vow to totally overhaul things – I used to be the most heinous New Years’ resolution warrior, but I’ve been delivered from that particular bondage, God being so good. Then I’d look around in confusion when I couldn’t rewrite years of ingrained habits overnight, like a dum dum. When I’d fall off, I would, like many other people, criticize myself (“Why can’t I stick to this? What’s wrong with me?”) and then I’d incorporate these criticisms into my self-image, seeing my inability to stick to an unreasonably rigorous schedule as indicative of some kind of personal moral failing (“I guess I’m just not that kind of person.”) Then I’d try to go even harder to prove myself wrong, repeating the cycle, again, like a dum dum, without ever stopping to consider that maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with me. Perhaps I was just being goofy and doing too much, and maybe I could set myself up for success by acknowledging that and separating my behavior from my identity.
I’d love to give you a quick and easy solution to recognizing your inherent value and realizing that being less-than-perfect simply makes you a human being and not a waste of space. However, if I had this information I certainly would not be writing this essay – I’d likely be yachting off the Amalfi Coast and spending the billions I’d amassed from selling the secret. I will say that the usual suspects are useful here – affirmations, journaling through limiting beliefs, and staying aware of and stopping negative self-talk – and that I began to make particular progress after reading some of Mark Manson’s (the author of The Subtle of Art of Not Giving a Fuck) thoughts on identity. There are elements of his theory that I don’t totally vibe with, but a huge takeaway was that there are no “kinds” of people: there are simply people who do or do not do things. In his words:
There’s no such thing as a “gym person.” There are just people who go to the gym. Similarly, there’s no such thing as a “productive person.” There are just people who do productive things fairly often. There’s no such thing as a “lovable person.” There are just people who aren’t selfish twats.
When we accept this, the emotional stakes of our actions are neutralized, and now we can proceed rationally with a mind that’s simply focused on doing what’s best for us, not a mindset that’s telling us we have to build a new personality from scratch because we’re such flops. Once our identities are separate from our behavior, we can see life for what it really is: a series of choices that have causes and effects, some positive and some negative. From here, it becomes clear that what we’re really trying to convey when we say “I want to change” is “I want to make better choices that have better outcomes.” That’s it.
Subscribe
Unfortunately, the only way to do that, is to do it: waking up and snapping out of autopilot so we can evaluate our behavior one choice at time. It’s imperative to consciously take a moment to consider: is this a good choice? Is this aligned with what I’m trying to accomplish? Is this taking me closer to where I’m trying to go? If yes, proceed. If no, do not. Simple, yes, but as we all know, simple and easy are not synonymous. But there’s no way around it, I fear. It’s choice by choice, step by step, just like anything else. Should I watch another episode or go to bed? Should I keep my plans with that friend or should I flake again? Should I read that book that I've been carrying around for weeks or should I scroll? It’s tedious work, I know. But the bright side is if you do this consistently enough, repeating the process over and over again, one day you get to look around and realize that you’ve created an entirely new life – and you didn’t have to change a thing about who you are, just what you do. So that’s something to look forward to, no?
It is absolutely pouring so I’m staying in and watching my current obsession, Pop the Ballon or Find Love on YouTube. If you aren’t familiar with the series…you’re welcome!
See you next Sunday,
Lola xx