What It Means and Doesn't Mean to Accept Myself
1) Accepting myself doesn’t mean conforming to my invisible name tags
All too frequently, through listening to and participating in conversations, I have observed that a common conversational practice is to refer to others not by their names but by what I’d call their invisible name tags. These can be anything, from gender and sexual orientation to ethnicity, nationality, physical trait, disability, political leaning, religion, age, introversion/ambiversion/extroversion, marital/parental/educational/economic status, job and even voice quality! Descriptions like ‘that chubby girl’, ‘that four-year-old’, ‘the Italian man’ and ‘the woman with a booming voice’ have been casually thrown about, something of which I have found myself been guilty. I think occasionally, we do not mean to be malicious or judgemental – in my case, I have realised that when I want to stamp the introvert/ambivert/extrovert label on people who don’t necessarily want to be labelled that way, I am searching for solidarity, for people like/unlike me, to either feel that sense of belonging I am unconsciously craving for or to expand my horizons by getting to know those who aren’t like me. As I dig deeper, I’ve found that the desire stems from my ego instead of my drive to accept the other person’s individuality and limitlessness. That said, if the Italian man, the mum, the deaf girl and the Japanese identify themselves with those words, I believe that it is absolutely important to accept them for who they are. Fun fact: I identify as an introvert, albeit a unique one with individual quirks rather than a textbook introvert. To give others the space to be themselves and choose their own self-identities, I am committed to applying the AA concept in my conversations (not Alcoholics Anonymous, Ask and Accept). I’ll ask others their preferred identifications and refer to them the way they choose by way of acceptance, which leads me to point #2.
2) Accepting myself means to boldly and freely choose my self-identity
I believe that identities, including self-identities, are not given. They are instead constructed. When we let others prescribe labels on us, the prescribed identities stop becoming self-identities, because they are not freely chosen. Similarly, when we label others, we are imposing our values on them. To come back to my tendency to stamp the introvert/ambivert/extrovert label on those whose self-identity is none of them, reflecting on this have taught me that it is as if I am saying, ‘You are either an introvert, ambivert or extrovert, not distinctly yourself.’ When I do that, I am being aggressive and disrespectful, instead of accepting others the way I want to be accepted. I feel so glad to have acknowledged that as I think the greatest human right, apart from the right to think independently, is the right to be assertive about our self-identities – I can’t emphasise this enough, so I’ll share a powerful quote on assertiveness and the freedom to be ourselves by the holocaust survivor and distinguished Hungarian psychologist Edith Eger, from her book The Choice:
'To be passive is to let others decide for you. To be aggressive is to decide for others. To be assertive is to decide for yourself. And to trust that there is enough, that you are enough.'
‘I’m not *insert label*. I’m Ashley,’ used to be my cheeky but entirely serious and assertive response when people around me attempted to decide my identity for me. Perhaps that response is worth sticking to indeed. After all, I like my name – and that leads me to point #3.
3) Accepting myself doesn’t mean letting others shape my name into whatever they like at my expense
Most people call me Ashley but two or three of them sometimes call me Ash, which is fine. Though I prefer Ashley, I have no issue with Ash. Ash is cool. Whenever I think of the name, I’d picture someone with short, stylish hair who plays the guitar and sings well. I have long hair; I do not play the guitar and I’m not sure if I can sing – I might be tone deaf for all we know. Still, Ash is fine – in an alternate reality I’m probably an Ash, so it’s great to be reminded of who I can be in another life occasionally. But Ashes? Noooo… Not me… Relieved that no one has called me that yet, but when they do, I’ll boldly state my preference by telling them that I’m Ashley through and through and that Ash is OK I suppose but not quite me. ‘Check with other Ashleys,’ I might suggest, ‘Ashes might resonate with them.’ I’ve met people who don’t like their names to be shortened (eg Nicole who does not appreciate Nic) and people who prefer their nicknames to their full first names (eg Michael who identifies as Mike instead of the former). I have also heard of those who prefer the lengthening of their first names (eg Grace who identifies as Gracie more than anything else) and even those who prefer their middle names to their first (eg Katherine Samantha who is a Samantha instead of a Katherine). Like #1, the AA principle applies when asking others about their names, too. Before I proceed to the next point, here’s a quote I find totally namepowering, by the one and only Duana Taha from her book The Name Therapist:
'Learn to like your own name. Find things about it that make you happy – an association or a sound or a nickname, or, if none of those work, choose another name, one that does work for you, that makes you happy. It’s difficult to face life if you’re going to cringe every time you announce the label that will be you until the day you die.'
I am thus the proud owner of the brand Ashley Marilynne Wong. However, that doesn’t mean I can use it as an excuse not to grow. Point #4 applies.
4) Accepting myself means not being defensive about who I am
I believe that ‘I am the way I am’ should never be an excuse against growing and evolving for the better. Yes, against is the key word here – by resisting as opposed to embracing change, self-sabotage occurs. This is something that I am still learning and processing. I used to for instance see myself as a textbook introvert before my awakening, as it were, as pointed out in 1, instead of accepting the beauty of my existence on the luminous spectrum, of embracing the rainbow of contradictions that is me. Sometimes I still do, especially when I feel insecure, and I am committed to avoiding stereotyping myself because I want to expand my individuality in order to be even Ashlier. To reiterate by way of celebrating my growth and transformations and by way of allowing myself to be freer, then, I thereby pronounce myself a quirky introvert, Ashley-Marilynne-Wong style, not a textbook one. In her TED talk ‘The Authenticity Paradox’, Professor Herminia Ibarra argues that by refusing to be flexible and expansive, we become the most conservative, not the most authentic, versions of ourselves. Check out her thought-provoking talk/video below – it has certainly challenged me to evolve:
Amidst embracing my transformations for self-improvement, it is still important for me to hold on to my core values, which is what I’ll discuss in my next point.
5) Accepting my evolving self doesn’t mean letting go of my crown of core values
My crown of core values, or let’s call it the love-shaped bouquet of gifts + strengths + signatures + personal endeavours that makes me Ashley, is made up of authenticity, congruence and empathy. Because they are my strengths, letting go of them by changing myself whenever disasters, challenges and failures strike is a bit like slaughtering my soul. Indeed, my core values are not just my gifts to myself – they are also my gifts to the world, since they are what I’ll utilise to love myself and others. That said, if others ask me to describe myself with adjectives, I don’t think telling them that I am authentic, congruent and empathic is growth-fostering. At least to me, to say that I am those things is like claiming that I am a grown-up full stop, instead of I am growing (continuously). I believe that a more productive response would be, ‘I think it’s better for me to define myself in terms of the core values I’ll always strive to live in accordance with, authenticity, congruence and empathy.’. That way, I won’t be bolstering my ego. Nor will I be engaging in self-effacing self-talk, by claiming that I am no one special and that I am normal), which, since everyone’s special, is a form of denial. Denial is the subject of my final point.
6) Accepting myself means not minimising, denying and suppressing my feelings and emotions
When our feelings and emotions lead to pain and suffering, it is tempting to disown them. Denying them in such a way is nonetheless counter-productive. Just as it is extremely hurtful to tell someone to shut up, it is truly disrespectful to shut our feelings and emotions up. Sooner or later they’ll cry out and explode in pain. No one – and no feelings and emotions for that matter – likes to be silenced. By denying and suppressing our feelings thus, we are committing a brutal injustice against them and ourselves. I used to reject my anger by substituting it with sadness. In the past, when I was meant to feel anger, I would just be sad and cry. Because I felt so unloved as a child when adults around me were angry, I thought being angry meant hating the person I was angry with, until someone showed me that defensive anger was different from congruent anger. The person in question managed to make me feel unconditionally loved even when they were angry with me. They were frustrated at my tendency to self-sabotage and they were able to express their mixed feelings, of frustration, concern and love. Applying and integrating what I learnt from that experience was not an easy journey – I had indeed found myself taking three steps forward and two, sometimes even four steps back. I didn’t stop practising however and I am getting better at accepting my anger and expressing it congruently. I am still learning and improving, and I treasure and enjoy that process. By accepting that I can be angry and express it productively, I feel that I have taken the courageous step of going into the dark to find the light. Giving myself the unconditional positive regard and love that I deserve have enabled me to proclaim, proudly and non-defensively, ‘This is me.’ And ‘This Is Me’ is such a powerful song because it portrays positive rather than defensive self-acceptance. Here is a rendition of the beautiful, powerful and empowering song by one of my favourite cover artists from the UK, Georgia Merry:
The song shows that by being vulnerable and accepting that it is OK to embrace my scars, I can say ‘this is me’ without being defensive, thus highlighting the importance of allowing myself to be vulnerable. Society perceives those who dare to express vulnerability as weak, so judgements are inevitable, but here’s the thing: I know that I’ll be judged either way, regardless of being vulnerable or invulnerable, which means I might as well follow my arrow, like this catchy song says:
To conclude, I’ll revisit the pronouncement a part of me has made, ‘You’re wrong,’ and review it in light of what I’ve learnt upon writing this post. Was I wrong to view self-acceptance as being myself by embracing the core of my being? I don’t think so, but perhaps the definition should be upgraded to include embracing growth and transformations too. Let me know what you think? Feel free to share with me in the comment section below as regards what it does and doesn’t mean for you to accept yourself. I’d love to know.
Thank you so much for being on this journey with me. Let’s continue to shine our ways by loving ourselves, wards and all, to – instead of but – allow ourselves to evolve 💖
I agree mostly and find your article informative and inspiring. But maybe the word is not aggressive, rather it is assertive. You assert your individuality, the right to be comfortable with who you are, unlabeled and unlimited by others people's typecasting. To evolve without losing your core is actually to be true to yourself.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for the beautiful and thoughtful comment 💖
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