Befriending Your Inner Critic

So much has been written about the inner critic - that voice in your head that says you aren't good enough. Cognitive therapists use the term, "shame busting," to describe how they approach the inner critic. And many of the other psychological theories advocate some variation on this same theme - silence the inner critic, tame the gremlin, etc.

But most of my clients, like me, have inner critics that do not want to be killed off. Many therapists would call this "resistance," or some kind of self-sabotaging impulse. I disagree.

As an adult attachment therapist (I look at how early attachment in our families shapes our self-image and world-view), I learned that my inner critic developed to keep me in alignment with the values and needs of my family, peers, and teachers at a time when I was too little to survive in the world alone. Being so young, I could not know that many of the values and needs I was trying to conform to were unhealthy. They arose out of the insecurities of those around me, and they created insecurity inside of me.

I have written here about my dad and his abuse history, but my mom's insecurities were far more damaging. She is a classical narcissist, whose primary objective is to procure admiration from others. When I reflected well upon her, I was treated kindly, even celebrated. If I needed her (especially if I needed something she was not good at providing), I was ignored or rejected. I was constantly compared unfavorably to my sisters, cousins, even strangers. I spent a lot of my childhood depressed, but didn't know it. Depression was my normal. I turned to food for soothing, even though the price was more disapproval and rejection from mom, who needed thin daughters that people would admire.

As I began to understand this dynamic through my adult eyes, so did my inner critic. As soon as I stopped trying to kill her off (my inner critic, not my mother), she became my ally and took on a new job. Instead of keeping me in line with people who are not healthy for me, her job is to let me know when things don't feel right. Instead of yelling at me to conform or be "good enough," her job is to remind me that my life is for me, not others. I am no longer tiny and vulnerable. I can say "no" or walk away from anything that is depleting, diminishing, harmful - or even vaguely not-quite-right.

When I was little, I had no choice about who surrounded me. Today, I actively choose friends, clients, colleagues, and extended family who are healthy, safe, and loving. My inner critic is AWESOME at detecting narcissists, psychopaths, and other icky folk and sounding the alarm so I steer clear of them. I LOVE her in this role.

She also keeps me company now when I am alone. She knows this was the lynchpin for me - the thing that kept me stuck in one-sided relationships far too long. Now, instead of buying into the notion that my aloneness was my own fault, she reminds me that there are lots of people in the world who are compassionate and caring, who love and accept me as I am, warts and all. She also reminds me that she is with me now in the best of ways. I will always have her loving, supportive presence within. And that inner safety and sweetness is more than good enough.

Workaholism, Part 2

A lot of emotional eaters tend to be adults who were "good kids." We do as we are told. We are courteous. We have a lot of empathy. When something goes wrong, we are quick to ask, "What did I do?" often taking responsibility for mistakes or problems we didn't create. Given these characteristics, we make really good workers.

We also have a tendency to feel less than or not good enough. We may diet to feel thin enough, which is really code for worthy - worthy of love, respect, good relationships... We are always proving ourselves, always "earning" our place in the world. This too makes us really good workers.

But the price of overwork and/or perfectionism at work is incredibly high. You may pay the price with stress related illnesses, more overeating, drinking, impaired relationships or isolation. You may pay the price in time - waking up one day to realize that you haven't really lived your life.

Recovery from Workaholism is just as hard as recovery from emotional eating - maybe harder, since overwork is praised and rewarded in ways that overeating is not! The recovery method is the same - really as it is with any addictive behavior. The key is in learning what the behavior is trying to help you soothe or distract yourself from: loneliness, anger, worry, emptiness, lack of security, shame....

When you have a better grasp of the feelings you are working to avoid, then you can begin tending to these feelings directly. As you become a skilled caregiver to yourself, you may discover that work is not so compelling. You may be more tuned into other needs - the need for rest or play, the need for time with family or friends, the need to just goof off.

Getting there is a process, so be gentle with yourself and celebrate even the little moments when you close your laptop or turn off your Blackberry. Close your eyes and just breathe. Find the parts of you who haven't yet learned that you are loveable, even when you are doing nothing, and send them love anyway.

Cheesecake, Feelings, and Self Love

I had a client* recently tell me she ate a half bag of chips, a pack of girlscout cookies, and part of a still-frozen cheesecake without understanding why.

Then as our session progressed, she told me about taking her sister to the airport. My client had a back spasm from sitting at a computer for too long. Her sister called at 4pm, stating that she had forgotten to arrange a ride to the airport, and needed to be there by 6:30pm for an 8pm flight. My client dropped what she was doing, and drove to her sister's house. Her sister was not packed, and there was rush hour traffic. "I was more worried than she was," my client laughed.

"Can I slow you down?" I asked.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, "am I going too fast?"
"It's not that," I offered, "I'm just wondering if we can make space for your feelings?" She took a deep breath and sighed.
"That was a big sigh," I said.
"Yeah. I don't know what this is," she said, pointing to her throat.
"What are you noticing?" I asked.
"It's like a lump, like I swallowed something, and it's just sticking there."
"Stay with the lump. See if it can tell you what you swallowed." I encouraged.
"My pride," she said, tears starting to flow.

This was not the first time she had put her own needs aside for someone and ended up feeling used or lessened in some way. And this was not the first client to share a similar story - overeating without connecting the binge to an emotional upset.

Like so many of us, this client learned from a very early age that she was expected to be helpful, no matter the cost to herself. She had strong, painful memories of being called selfish by her mother and sister, if her needs conflicted with theirs. Her mother was unemotional. Her dad, while kind, was just not around all that much. When she needed care, support or understanding, she was usually criticized for being too needy.

The one place she felt soothed and safe was with food. Food filled up the empty space inside. It calmed her. It was her one haven, till she hit puberty and had a crush on a boy who called her fat. Then, her one safe form of self-care became completely unsafe. She still ate to soothe herself, but now, after a binge, she would yell at herself and criticize herself, even more harshly than her mother and sister did.

What I find hopeful and tender and heart-opening, is that this woman has never stopped trying to take care of herself in the best, and often only ways available to her. First with food, then with a great education she paid for on her own, and then with a high-paying job that allowed her to have therapy, as well as acupuncture and yoga for her back. As much as she was used to self-criticism and shame, there was always this thread of awareness (I need to feel better), that allowed her to keep reaching for more.


As this session progressed, we uncovered more feelings through her physical sensations:

"I feel a burning in my stomach, like heartburn, but lower." (her)
"What does the burning want to tell you?" (me)
"I'm angry. I'm really angry. My sister is so selfish." (her)

It's no mystery that these physical sensations often centered in her belly, her chest and her throat. All along our digestive tract are clusters of neurons that give us our "gut feelings." For emotional eaters, these feelings often get lumped into "hungry" or "empty" and food does a really good job of numbing us out. In therapy, we are just starting to sort out what is physical hunger and what is emotional pain, fear, anger, shame, hope, etc.

At the end of the session I asked her, "If you could have a do-over, what would you want to say or do?"

"I want to tell my sister that it's too bad she didn't make arrangements for herself, but I have to take care of my back, and I'm sure she'll find a way to get to the airport. She always gets what she wants."

"And as you say that out loud, what do you notice in your body or emotionally?" I ask.

"I feel lighter," she says, smiling. "I feel a fullness, a solidness." Her face is lit up. "I think I feel happy!" She says, laughing, surprised.

"And when you look in my eyes, what do you see?" I ask.

"You're happy too. You're happy for me."

"Yes. I'm really happy for you." We both tear up.

This progression from not knowing, to feeling something, to naming anger, and then finding her voice is nothing short of miraculous. Voicing feelings was a punishable offense in this client's family, and the punishment was either getting criticized (shamed) or ignored (devalued). It is going to be essential for this client to keep looking into my eyes and seeing my care for her, my continued presence, my desire to know all of her feelings, my joy in her joy, my compassion for her pain.

Spending time with her, and seeing again and again her commitment to her own happiness and well being tells me that we will convert her shame into compassion and that her urges to eat will become a beacon that tells her when she needs comfort and care. And I know she will show up for herself with kindness and love because those things are already in her.

*This client is an amalgam of many clients over time so that confidentiality is protected.

Resolutions

I just got my favorite non-diet newsletter, Stay Attuned, from Karin Kratina and Amy Tuttle at Nourishing Connections (http://nourishingconnections.com). They do such a good job of uncovering the harmful messages at the heart of the weight loss commercials that abound every new year.

Personally, I've been bristling at the latest Special K commercials - the ones that ask, "What will you gain when you lose?" What a waste of time to keep measuring our success on the bathroom scale, our happiness by the size of our jeans. Uch. It's enough to make you lose your appetite!

What I really hate are the promises - implicit and explicit - that being thinner will make us happier and more successful. I've been thinner. I gained two things when I was at my thinnest:

• The attention of narcissistic men who wanted have sex with me, but had no interest in who I really was.
• A temporary reprieve from my own meanness and constant self-criticism, which ended up being no reprieve at all, as it was immediately replaced by the terror that I would soon regain what I'd lost.

In my teens and through most of my twenties, I didn't have the wisdom, strength, perspective or self-awareness to really scrutinize these false promises. I needed to cling to the belief that by controlling my body, I would find love, security, peace - all the things I craved.

It's been a long journey. I've had to grieve the truth, that my parents didn't know how to love and value me as I was (and so I had to teach myself how to do just that). I've had lots of starts and stops. I've had lots of amazing help (especially from Robyn Posin at http://www.forthelittleonesinside.com). And now, at 46, I really know in my bones that what I craved in my twenties could only come from one place: myself.

So today, at the start of this new year, I am recommitting to the resolutions I've made as I've recovered from my eating disorder. Here they are...

1. I resolve to listen deeply to my body and honor the messages it sends me. I will eat when I'm hungry, stop when I feel fed, and eat what I crave, whether it's brussels sprouts or buttermilk donuts.
2. When I'm tired, I will rest, and not push through the fatigue.
3. When my body wants to move, I will dance, walk in the woods, stretch - or anything else that answers the need.
4. I will not overwork, over-stress, or over-do.
5. When I feel worried, confused, distressed, sad or angry, I will stop and listen carefully and do whatever I can to bring myself relief.
6. I will say No to anything that doesn't feel right, even if there is a voice in my head saying, "but you really should..."
7. I will ask for help and accept kindness whenever it is offered.
8. I will actively seek out experiences and friendships that make me feel alive and fulfilled.
9. I will actively stop experiences and relationships that are depleting.
10. And above all else, I will treat myself with love, gentleness, tenderness, respect and care.

This is my only "diet," and it's the only one that's ever delivered on the promises of love and happiness.

If you find yourself contemplating a diet for the new year, I invite you to stop and listen to what you are really craving, and ask yourself if being thinner will really get you there. Whatever you need to find happiness, you have the power to provide for yourself, regardless of your size.

This posting needs only two words...

Susan Boyle

See the youtube video here.

Then listen to her recording of Cry Me a River here.

Then go follow your dreams. It's never too late. You are not too fat. The world needs you. When you honor yourself, the rest of the world will honor you too.

Have you seen "How to Look Good Naked"?

When I first heard about this show, I felt a mixture of hope and trepidation. Would this really be a show about self acceptance? Or would it be an excuse to further shame women? Much to my relief, the first episode was kind and supportive.

As a therapist, I loved how the host, Carson, helped Layla see herself through the eyes of others - as a real, normal woman. So much of what we need to feel good about ourselves is a "reality check." And in a world where we park ourselves in front of a box of actresses and models who are abnormally thin, tucked, lifted and airbrushed, it's hard to know what normal (and beautiful) really is.

While the transformation from shame to self-acceptance happened way faster than I see in my clients, the process is the same. We need to transform our inner critic into an ally. One great way to do this is by confronting the distortions our inner critic holds about our bodies. We tend to see ourselves as less attractive than others see us. And for some reason, we convince ourselves that our distortions are correct - that others are just "being nice."

We live in a distorted culture - one that tells us we must have thin, smooth, muscled, long limbed bodies in order to be lovable and/or successful. This is completely false. We need love - unconditional, supportive, kind, respectful love. We need to know we are entitled to be our best selves no matter our size, shape, age, etc.

Thanks to Carson and to Lifetime for creating and airing this show. Now, let's see if they can ditch the diet commercials!!!