Self-Compassion, Self-Esteem, and Self-Criticism

Constantly feeding our need for positive self-evaluation is a bit like gorging ourselves on candy. We get drunk on sugar, and then comes a sharp crash. In the crash, we fall into despair. That's when we realize that no matter how hard we try, we can't always blame others for our problems. We can't always feel special and above average. Often, the result is devastating. We look in the mirror and don't like what we see, literally and figuratively, and then shame begins to take shape. Most of us are extremely harsh with ourselves when we manage to admit some flaw or shortcoming. We think: "I'm not good enough. I'm worthless." So we prefer to hide the truth from ourselves, because we receive honesty as a harsh condemnation.

In areas where it's hard to deceive ourselves, for example when we compare our weight to magazine models or our bank accounts to those of the rich and successful, we cause ourselves immense emotional pain. We lose faith in ourselves, we start to doubt our potential, and we lose hope. Naturally, this state of sadness only produces more self-condemnation for being losers who do nothing. And so we fall further and further.

Even when we do well, the rules of the game for reaching "good enough" always seem to stay out of reach, which is frustrating. We need to be smart and athletic and elegant and interesting and successful and sexy. Oh, and spiritually evolved too. No matter how well we do something, there will always be someone who seems to do it better. The result of this line of thinking is troubling: millions of people need to take medication every day just to deal with their daily lives. Insecurity, anxiety, and depression are extremely common in our society, and much of this is due to self-judgment, to torturing ourselves when we feel we're not winning at the game of life.

Another Way

So what's the answer? We need to stop self-judgment once and for all and practice self-evaluation. Stop the labels of "good" or "bad" and simply accept ourselves with an open heart. We should treat ourselves with the same kindness, affection, and compassion we give to a good friend or even a stranger. There's hardly anyone we treat as badly as we treat ourselves.

When I first encountered the idea of self-compassion, my life changed almost immediately. It was in the final year of my doctorate in Human Development at UC Berkeley, when I was putting the finishing touches on my dissertation. I was going through a very difficult time with the end of my first marriage and was full of shame and self-aversion. I had the idea to sign up for meditation classes at a Buddhist center nearby. As a child, I had always been interested in Eastern spirituality. I was raised in the Los Angeles area by an open-minded mother, but I had never taken meditation seriously. Besides, I had never examined Buddhist philosophy because my exposure to Eastern thought was more in the California New Age vein. As part of my search, I read Sharon Salzberg's classic book, Loving Kindness, and I was never the same again.

I knew that Buddhists spoke a lot about the importance of compassion, but I had never before considered that compassion for oneself could be just as important as compassion for others. From a Buddhist perspective, you have to take care of yourself before you can really care about other people. If you judge and criticize yourself continuously while trying to be kind to others, you end up drawing artificial boundaries and distinctions that only lead to feelings of separation and isolation. This movement is opposite to unity, to interconnection, and to universal love; the ultimate aims of most spiritual paths, regardless of tradition.

My new fiancé, Rupert, came with me to the weekly Buddhist group meetings. I remember how he would shake his head in amazement and say: "So it's possible to allow yourself to be kind to yourself and have self-compassion in the face of failure or difficult moments? I don't know... If I'm too self-compassionate, won't I just be lazy and selfish?" It took me a while to get my head around it. But slowly I realized that self-criticism, despite being sanctioned by society, was not helpful in any way. In fact, it only made things worse. I didn't become a better person by beating myself up all the time. Instead, I felt inadequate and insecure and took out my frustration on the people close to me. More than that, there were many things I wouldn't admit to because I was so afraid of the self-hatred that would come if I faced the truth.

Rupert and I learned to give ourselves, individually, doses of love, acceptance, and security that we had previously hoped to extract from our relationship. This meant an increase of these feelings in our hearts to give to each other. We were so moved by the concept of self-compassion that at our wedding ceremony that same year, we each ended our vows by saying: "Above all, I promise to help you have compassion for yourself, so that you may thrive and be happy."

After my doctorate, I did two years of postdoctoral work with a researcher who specialized in self-esteem. I wanted to know more about how people determine their sense of self-esteem, and I quickly learned that the field of psychology was becoming disillusioned with self-esteem theory as the pinnacle of mental health. Despite thousands of articles written about the importance of self-esteem, researchers began pointing out all of its pitfalls: narcissism, self-centeredness, hypocritical anger, prejudice, discrimination, and so on. I realized that self-compassion was the perfect alternative to the endless pursuit of self-esteem. Why? Because it offers the same protection against harsh self-criticism, but without the need to see ourselves as perfect or better than others. In other words, self-compassion provides the same benefits as high self-esteem, but without its drawbacks.

This excerpt was taken from the book "Self-Compassion" by Kristin Neff. To learn more about the book, visit the publisher's website Lúcida Letra.