I’ll be the first to admit it...
I’ll be the first to admit it—self-compassion used to feel like a “cheap way out” to me, an excuse to let ourselves off the hook for our feelings or actions.
I had very little interest in it and even questioned its usefulness. What I really wanted—for myself and others—was motivation. I understood that being kind to ourselves mattered and that self-criticism could be harmful, but self-compassion just seemed to be about being nice to yourself, and that felt…enough.
Then, the topic came up in a group of parents I was coaching, and they asked for more clarity on how to use self-compassion when raising their child with anxiety. Somewhat reluctantly, I began to do my research. I wanted to be able to talk about it fully, with some level of authority. And lucky me—what began as a simple request opened up a new way to look at myself and others. A kinder, gentler approach, but one that also boosts confidence, encourages risk-taking, and perhaps most importantly, can reduce anxiety.
Self-compassion is a superpower.
I’ve come to realize that self-compassion is a superpower.
I’m not overstating it. Here’s how it works:
1. Self-kindness
Being caring and understanding with ourselves rather than harshly critical.
2. Common humanity
Recognizing that everyone fails, makes mistakes, and feels inadequate sometimes; this is simply part of being human.
3. Mindfulness
Observing our present experience clearly and calmly, without ignoring or ruminating on aspects of ourselves or our lives that we don’t like.
So how do we actually practice this?
Let’s start with my own example. While I am confident in many aspects of my life, social events with my partner’s friends are not one of them. Nothing brings me back to the awkward days of adolescence faster than a casual, “Don’t forget we have that thing this weekend.”
For this one event, however, I made a decision to approach my apprehensions with self-compassion instead of just worrying about what to wear, what to say, or what if I drop my drink.
I reminded myself that I would be okay, that I am capable, and that I could be gentle with myself about small mishaps. I acknowledged that these events can feel awkward and that many people feel that way, even though they may not say it. Just because I’ve dropped a drink in the past doesn’t mean I will drop it again. I could simply be present and let the past be the past.
Not only did this shift in perspective take the edge off my anxiety, but as the event approached, I felt calmer and more present. I was able to actually enjoy myself—which I never expected. And yes, I did drop something. But as I bent down to pick up my cocktail napkin, I noticed someone else doing the same thing.