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  • #448570
    Debbie
    Participant

    What if my authentic self is someone I don’t like?

    #448572
    Peter
    Participant

    Hi Debbie,

    “What if my authentic self is someone I don’t like?”

    It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times and know many others have too. Today after having struggled with the question, I wonder if maybe not being alone in the question is part of the answer.

    What I’ve learned is that what we call our “authentic self” often gets tangled up in old wounds, habits, or roles we didn’t choose but learned to play. Looking back, I’ve come to see that disliking a version of ourselves can be the beginning of a hero’s journey, a call to transformation. Still the untangling is a work in progress…

    The wisdom traditions don’t always give direct answers, but they do offer companionship in the question.

    Some say the self is not fixed but unfolding. Others speak of a deeper essence beneath the layers something whole, even if hidden. And some invite us to meet the parts we dislike not with judgment, but with curiosity and compassion.

    Rumi writes, “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.” Maybe the dislike stems from identifying with the ego rather than the soul.

    The Buddha reminds us: “You can search throughout the entire universe for someone more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found.”

    In the Christian tradition, we’re told: “You are loved not because you are perfect, but because you are G_d’s creation.”

    Lao Tzu offers: “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.

    And Jung adds: “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”

    Perhaps in this moment, it’s enough to have asked the question and then, siting with it gently, see where the river takes you.

    Others on this site are better equipped to help you work those parts you struggle with.

    I wish you well and I hope you remember to be kind to yourself if you decide to explore the river.

    #448574
    anita
    Participant

    Hi Debbie:

    Your question—“What if my authentic self is someone I don’t like?”—is brave and honest, and I want to honor that.

    What parts feel hard to like?

    Whose voice taught you that those parts were unworthy?

    What would it mean to offer those parts compassion instead of critique?

    I will answer these questions as they apply to me, past and present:

    (1) “What parts feel hard to like?”- Past: all the parts. Present: The part of me that still tries to get my mother/ others to like me by minimizing myself, disregarding myself, compromising my truth so to please others.

    (2) “Whose voice taught you that those parts were unworthy?”- primarily my mother. To a lesser extent: peers in school.

    I remember my mother telling me (as she was hitting and shaming me): “The only thing I like about you is that you look down at the floor and you don’t talk back”- She liked my submission, me giving in to her.

    Other than liking my submissiveness, she mentioned 2 other things she liked about me: she said I look European and that I was very intelligent and an excellent student in school.

    This is it, just these 3 things.

    Now, thing is, I really wasn’t very intelligent. I suffered from learning disabilities and it took me many hours to do homework and prepare for tests, only to get on average, C+ grades, and I would forget almost all the material I memorized for tests soon after each test. Also, I do not look European. I look North African.. like my mother.

    So 2 of the 3 things she liked about me weren’t true. The submissiveness part she liked- that liking led to a lot of devastation in my life for decades and decades.

    In school, I was never part of the “cool kids”. I was the outsider and I believed it was so because I was inferior, defected, unacceptable. Having Tourette’s (motor and vocal tics) didn’t help, to put it mildly.

    3) “What would it mean to offer those parts compassion instead of critique?”- I didn’t expect to ask myself this question. My first instinct was to say that I will never, ever like the part of me that still tries to get my mother/ others to like me by minimizing myself, etc., submitting to others, that is. I hate that part!

    But then, the question above remains.. It makes sense that I’d need to like all parts of me, including parts I want changed. So, let me try this here (continuing to type as-I-think).. I’ll write a letter to my Submitting Part. I’ll call it SP-

    Dear SP:

    Thank you for trying so hard to protect me all those years. You knew that her aggression could be deadly. You saw how volatile she got, how rageful.. You heard her threats.. Yes, of course you felt I was in physical danger. So, you did your best for my sake: submit, go belly up.. this way she’d feel she won, she’s on top of me and she’d calm down and let me live.

    We’re not there anymore, SP, subject to her aggression, at her mercy. So, you can rest now.. until and if we’re in that position again. I would need you if a situation like that happens again (one where I am completely powerless against an aggressor). Again, thank you so much and rest well. You deserve the rest.

    (Letter completed).

    I hope something in what I shared above resonates or supports you in your own reflection.

    With care, Anita

    #448582
    Alessa
    Participant

    Hi Debbie

    I’m sorry that you feel this way. I’ve definitely been there. ❤️

    Would you like to share a bit more about it?

    It is possible to heal from these things. I learned to like myself. It has been shaken. I’m trying to heal again.

    #448660
    Peter
    Participant

    Hi Debbie,

    I’ve been thinking more about a question that stayed with me after reading your post.

    I hope it’s okay that I’m taking a second attempt, not to answer your question, but to relate to the moment when someone asks, “What if my authentic self is someone I don’t like?”

    In my first reply, I was honest but suspect not helpful. I told you I’ve asked that question myself, which is true. But before I asked the question came, I remember saying the words “I hate who I am.”, Words I still hear myself sometimes still saying,

    So, when I read your post, something in it stirred a memory of hurt in me, the kind that once made me ask the question. I don’t want to assume it’s the same, but perhaps close enough that I wanted to respond.

    And because I’m me, I offered the path and practices that have helped me. But I knew even as I wrote them that words can’t reach the place that question comes from. Hear again if I’m honest, I don’t always like the guy that responses in this way, but he means well.

    So last night, I found myself looked again to the wisdom traditions, not at the practices, but at the teachers and wondered how they respond to the hurt behind such questions. This is what I saw:

    The Buddha sits beside you in silence, and maybe your breathing begins to match his.
    The Sufi reaches out and holds your hand, and maybe your heart breaks a little, but not in a bad way.
    Jesus also sits beside you and weeps, sharing your tears if they fall.
    The hurt not resolved but… but maybe not the same…
    This to I would offer.

    And eventually, the Zen master that is Life comes along and claps his hands loudly and gives you a nudge. You get up, go to work or school, take a dance class maybe or head to the gym. Where maybe someone makes you laugh, or better yet, you make someone laugh. And you find you don’t not, not like yourself.

    In another thread, I mentioned how sometimes I imagine my ego, or maybe my id, as a dog responding to energies I’m unconsciously projecting. When I’m anxious, it barks. When I’m avoidant, it hides. When I’m reactive, it lunges… when I’m hurt, I wonder if I can like myself…

    But I didn’t mention that sometimes I imagine the dog running through a field of wildflowers, chasing a squirrel it has no real intention of catching. Then, because I’m me, I can’t help wondering if the squirrel knows it’s a game and realizes that I’m the squirrel too.

    The scene shifts: the squirrel safe in a tree, calling out the dog the way squirrels do and the dog barking back, the way dogs do. A part of both, I imagine laughing.

    And in that moment, Life is.

    #448665
    Debbie
    Participant

    Thank you all for your responses. I appreciate your time and care.

    I have been pondering what and how to share. Vulnerability is not my strong suit.

    I am 59 years old (divorced a long time ago, no children) and have been in and out of therapy since the age of 18 (more out than in) for depression. It wasn’t until I connected with my most recent therapist a few years ago that I realized I also have anxiety. The weirdness I thought was just me was actually ways of coping with the anxiety I didn’t realize I had. I have constantly felt not right…flawed…defective and my life’s journey has been to fix myself. I finally realized about 5 years ago that I built my life around everyone else and what I thought they wanted, who I thought they wanted me to be. This realization came after several painful incidents when it became obvious that I was not as important to everyone else as they were to me…that I thought everyone else mattered more than I did. I decided to take back my power. I established boundaries which were actually brick walls. But behind those walls I started to take care of myself and there have been positive changes, the biggest being a 185 lb. weight loss. Obesity was part of who I was and now I’m navigating a new me physically. However, inside is the same old defective me. I am negative, catty, judgmental, angry and I navigate the world fearing others will find out. I make sure to respond and behave appropriately, sometimes it’s forced but other times it’s not. I know there is good in me but I identify more with the “bad” allowing it to overshadow the good. I fear if I behaved as my authentic self I would be hustled off to a mental health institute at worst or find myself alone at best. I think I have to be perfect which of course I fail at. I yearn for inner peace and acceptance of myself instead of constantly “shoulding” on myself which is exhausting. I think way too much and most of those thoughts are wondering how other people are living their lives because surely I’m doing it wrong.

    I fear I’m rambling and not adequately relaying why I asked my original question of what if my authentic self is someone I don’t like. I often wonder if I would be friends with myself. I think if I could turn off the constant thinking, analyzing and criticizing then I would achieve that inner peace and acceptance of my authentic self. The way I’m currently navigating the world is exhausting. I just want to be me…whoever that is.

    #448667
    Alessa
    Participant

    Hi Debbie

    Congratulations on your weight loss! ❤️

    I can understand having negative thoughts. Life is hard sometimes and we all have our way to cope sometimes.

    There is a difference between thinking and action. You understand this. We are not in control of our thoughts 24/7. You are in control of your actions. Clearly, you understand the importance of treating people kindly.

    It is okay to struggle with difficult feelings internally. There is nothing wrong with that. ❤️

    I do find that self-compassion and compassion are linked. The kinder you are to yourself, the kinder you will find that voice being to others. You are a very aware and thoughtful person. It seems like you might have been through a lot in your life. Sometimes difficult experiences stick with us in our thoughts. ❤️

    #448668
    Debbie
    Participant

    Thank you Aleesa! 🤗

    #448669
    Thomas168
    Participant

    Buddhism teaches us a person is all of what one has thought. One is not those thoughts but it is what one believes one to be. And so, the thoughts create a persona that one believes one to be. In essence, one is more than that. Each person is like the splash of water. A drop arising from the ocean. Flying off in its direction. Rise rise high above the waves. Eventually falling back down and returning into the ocean.

    Yes, turning off the constant thinking is the way to accept oneself. Meditation starts with watching the breath come in and go out. With letting go of thoughts. Not to chase the thoughts. Not to follow the thoughts. Not to suppress the thoughts. Let them come and let them go. Soon, quiet will arise between the thoughts. That quiet is the essence of self and will last longer and longer. Mindfulness. Dropping off of the thinking mind.

    Would you not like your authentic self? I believe that you would need to experience your authentic self and then you would know. As we are now, we create this world with those thoughts. Our senses feed into this idea of who we are. Of course this all seems real.

    #448670
    Debbie
    Participant

    Thank you Anita for sharing.

    And, thank you Peter for your insight. You have an amazing grasp of the different spiritual paths. I was raised Catholic but once out of the house I explored and found I lean toward Buddhism but would like to deepen my study of it.

    #448672
    Debbie
    Participant

    Thank you Thomas168. I have tried meditation in the past and do want to start a regular practice. I subscribed to the 10% Happier app but did not renew. I do still enjoy Dan Harris’ podcast. I have the Insight app which is excellent.

    #448673
    Thomas168
    Participant

    At first the effort was difficult to raise. To practice everyday. But, as the practice got better. The quiet settled in and I enjoy just sitting. I might wake up in the middle of the night and start practice. And sometimes the birds sing and the sun rises and the light shines into my eyes. Other times I just fall back to sleep. But, I, now, try to sit in the quiet almost every chance I get. Waiting for the bus or at the doctor’s office or just walking down the street.

    Meditation won’t change who you are. It just helps one let go of the ideas of what one thinks about oneself.

    #448678
    Alessa
    Participant

    Hi Everyone

    I just wanted to share my experience with meditation and depression, because I do think that Thomas suggested a really good idea and you seem interested in it Debbie.

    I feel like meditation made me feel happier in the same circumstances. It helped me to develop space between the negative thoughts and in that space I was able to notice more good things about life. ❤️

    #448799
    Peter
    Participant

    Hi Everyone

    Last night, I read a passage in Fredrik Backman’s novel My Friends:

    When they were teenagers, the artist never wanted to show anyone anything that wasn’t finished. Art is a nakedness—you have to be free to decide when you’re comfortable with it, and with whom…
    It’s just that until I show a drawing to someone, it’s only mine. You know? It isn’t too late to fix it. I’m not good at drawing, I’m slow. People who are good at drawing are just good… all the time. Their worst drawings are still great. If you saw my worst drawings, you’d realize I’m actually just a fraud. But… before the drawing is finished, it isn’t too late. That’s the only time I… like myself.

    Reading those words, I felt they held a truth that speaks to the question: What if my authentic self is someone I don’t like?

    The unfinished drawing symbolizes a space of safety and possibility. Before it’s shared, it belongs solely to the artist—unjudged, unexposed, and to her mind still redeemable. This reflects how we often feel safest in our unexpressed selves, fearing that exposure will confirm our inadequacy…

    In the story, none of the friends claim to like themselves very much. Yet they are able to love each other fiercely and freely. It seems that the selves they dislike are not their true selves, but roles, labels, and measures most of which have been projected onto them. No wonder they struggle with self-acceptance when they begin to identify with these imposed definitions.

    To me, this suggests that the authentic self is something beyond such measures, and instead point to a Self that loves freely… A something that can only be lived, not grasped and measured.

    Here’s another quote from the book that I think speaks universally to how we come to dislike ourselves and a way out:

    “The janitor had had the truth revealed to him by his mom when he was little:
    “All children are born with wings,” she had whispered. “It’s just that the world is full of people who try to tear them off. Unfortunately, they succeed with almost everyone, sooner or later. Only a few children escape. But those children? They rise up to the skies!”
    The janitor had grown up feeling lost and different, rejected at school, never normal like other children. But his mom always reminded him:
    “You feel strange because you still have your wings, rubbing beneath your skin. You think you’re alone, but there are others like you, people who stand in front of white walls and blank paper and only see magical things. One day, one of them will recognize you and call out: ‘You’re one of us!’”

    The novel is, I think, about the quiet ache in the fear that our authentic self might be someone we don’t like. It seems to me that our fear arises not from truth, but from confusion mistaking the roles and labels we’ve been given for who we truly are. Backman’s story reminds us that the self we often reject is not the one born free, but the one shaped by judgment and comparison.

    And yet, even in that confusion, love persists. The characters love each other not because they are perfect, but because they see through the masks to something deeper. That deeper self, the one with wings still rubbing beneath the skin, is not defined by talent or success. It is the part of us that still sees magic in blank paper, from which all things might arise and return. The authentic Self being the Self that “sees” deeper.

    I feel that to live from that place is to live from love that flows freely when we stop trying to fix ourselves and start recognizing the beauty that was never lost…

    Than maybe the real miracle when we begin to see with those eyes is that we discover that everyone is ‘one of us’. Everyone is born with wings. Some are just harder to see, hidden beneath years of forgetting. That when we remember our own, we help others remember theirs. At that point, I wonder if the question of authenticity might not just fad away?

    #448800
    Debbie
    Participant

    Thank you for sharing Peter.

    I think you are correct. My “self” identity is weighed down with the baggage of roles and labels and stories I’ve told myself so often they’ve become my truth.

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