• “Why am I not …?
• Why am I not supposed to be …?
• When did I stop being …?
• Who told me that it is not OK to be …?
• What would it take for me to think that I can be …?”
I am stealing these questions shamelessly from Pernille Melsted, a Danish coach, who every May dedicates her work to addressing what she calls “the Golden Shadow”: the positive traits that we dare not flaunt, whether they be creativity, sensuality, joy, power, vulnerability…
Mariah Edgington has on her and Byron Edgington’s website Mandate To Elevate an affirmation exercise where you look in the mirror daily and tell yourself some positive things about yourself.
From the list:
“…I am Brave
I am Confident
I am Determined
I am Energized
I am Fearless…”
Some people break down crying if they say something positive to themselves. Some people can say something positive but not “just anything” positive.
Can you look in the mirror and say “I love you” out loud to yourself?
Try it, it’s powerful. (If you think this is ridiculous, “who told you that it is not OK” to love yourself? Does somebody have to be perfect to be worthy of your love? Alas, then I will never qualify.)
Sure, there may be some affirmations that are more easily said because we already own that part about ourselves. E.g. I see myself as pretty confident overall even if there may be specific contexts in which this doesn’t apply. Some affirmations don’t apply at all and never did – and I can own that as well. But some affirmations stir up something, a resistance felt in the body, indicating that there is more to the story. That back in time I learned how this way of being was not welcome. At least not for me. There is a feeling of shame attached to them.
This is where a bit of curiosity paired with the questions starting this piece of writing can be helpful.
No, I am not going to go through all the affirmations from the dynamic Edgington-duo and let you into my shadow work (and my list is far longer than the 26 letters of the alphabet.)
I just want to offer these questions to you as tools. Because every time we feel judgmental about somebody, they are probably violating a “rule” that says We/You/I are not supposed to act this way. And wouldn’t it be a relief to understand why you feel so strongly about this before you heap judgment on somebody else?
Here are some examples and their long reaching consequences:
My mother never sported colorful nail polish. She had well-kept and buffed nails but never adorned them with something more attention-grabbing than transparent slightly pinkish polish. Use your imagination about for whom red nails were reserved according to her script. You can imagine my childish confusion when, at my father’s round birthday bash, his cousin showed up with bright red nail polish. My eight-year-old-self stared at this woman the whole evening, trying to square my impression with what I otherwise knew about the world and about my family. It took many years before I stopped at some subconscious level to hold her nails against her. And this despite that I knew she was among my father’s favorite cousins; my sister was even named after her.
To this day I still don’t do much nail polish-wise. But my daughter loves playing with the colors, and I am so relieved that I am not carrying my mother’s old script with me because that would be asking for friction where none needs to exist.
Another story:
My department’s administrative assistant L told me how her mother had been around when she got a drawing from her kindergarten-aged daughter. As one does, she praised the drawing before hanging it on the fridge. When the daughter had left the kitchen, her mother said: “You shouldn’t praise her too much. She risks becoming too full of herself.” “In that moment I knew why, all my life, I have lacked self-confidence” L said. The spell had been broken and soon I heard she was off on a for her more self-affirming career track.
And I have shared this story before:
After MC’ing at a party where everybody – including the waiters – were laughing their heads off, one of the guests I had known for a decade said, “I have never seen you like this before.” I took away some indirect feedback that I had let a goofy side of myself slip into the shadow – and I am reclaiming it.
Although the critical words of a parent, grandparent, sibling (or anybody) can send our talents into hiding, many of these scripts are not brought to us by one single person but by the culture we live in. I can more easily agree or disagree with my mother’s nail polishing script when the culture where I live and in my time doesn’t care one way or the other about colorful polish.
Today I use this learning to keep myself in check when people younger than me sport what is this time’s equivalent to “bright red nail polish” – understanding that the meaning they put into what they do probably is very different from what it would have signified 1-2-3 generations ago. Initially, my reaction may automatically be to distance myself emotionally from the person. But accepting their choice – for them – doesn’t mean that I must adopt something similar for myself. Knowing this, I can instead choose to engage and learn what is behind their choice. Some lovely and meaningful stories have been shared on that account that otherwise would have remained unknown to me.
I think it behooves me, as an adult, to own my shadows, whether I like all of them or not. So, every May, I, too, look in my handbook and see if I can reintegrate one more lovely aspect of younger me that at some point, for whatever reason, moved into the Golden Shadow, by asking these questions:
• Am I …?
• “Why am I not …?
• Why am I not supposed to be …?
• When did I stop being …?
• Who told me that it is not OK to be …?
• What would it take for me to think that I can be …?”
Hopefully, when I am 180 years old, I will be complete.
Gosh, Charlotte, isn’t it important to notice and praise instead of withholding? Seems like that attitude is backwards. Too much praise becomes inauthentic, imho, and kids pick up on that in their learning of how to manipulate parents. I think it’s important to praise accomplishments, grades, performances, even pictures when they do have a display of talent.
IMO, very few children grow up to become “too full of themselves” compared to the number of people walking around with no faith in their own capabilities.
I agree that artificial praise can be smelled a mile away, and as I was not there, I don’t know what was said in the incident recounted above. A sincere “For me? Thank you.” can praise the generosity without lying about the talent.