The great angst of modern life is this: No matter how hard we try, no matter how successful we are, no matter how good a parent, worker, or spouse we are—it’s never enough. There is always someone richer, thinner, smarter, or more powerful than we are, someone who makes us feel like a failure in comparison. And failure of any kind is unacceptable. What to do?
One response has come in the form of the self-esteem movement. Over the years there have been thousands of books and magazine articles promoting self-esteem—how to get it, how to raise it, and how to keep it. It has almost become a truism in our culture that we need to have high self-esteem in order to be happy and healthy. We are told to think positively of ourselves at all costs, like Al Franken’s Saturday Night Live character Stuart Smalley who proclaims, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!”
But the need to continually evaluate ourselves positively comes at a high price. For instance, high self-esteem usually requires feeling special and above average. To be called average is considered an insult. (“How did you like my performance last night?” “It was average.” Ouch!) Of course, it’s logically impossible for every human being on the planet to be above average at the same time, putting us in a bit of a bind. One way we try to deal with this is through a process of social comparison in which we continually try to puff ourselves up and put others down (just think of the film Mean Girls and you’ll know what I’m talking about).
The quest to raise one’s esteem at the expense of others is a phenomenon that underlies many societal problems, such as prejudice, social inequality, and bullying. Bullies generally have high self-esteem, since picking on people weaker than themselves is an easy way to boost their sense of self-worth.
Even when you have high self-esteem, it will likely fly out the window the next time you blow a big work assignment, can’t zip up your pants anymore, or don’t get invited to that big party.
One of the most insidious consequences of the self-esteem movement over the last couple of decades is the narcissism epidemic. Jean Twenge, author of Generation Me, examined the narcissism levels of over 15,000 U.S. college students between 1987 and 2006. During that 20-year period narcissism scores went through the roof, with 65% of modern-day students scoring higher in narcissism than previous generations. Not coincidentally, students’ average self-esteem levels rose by an even greater margin over the same period.
Even when you have high self-esteem, however, you can’t necessarily keep it. Your self-esteem is likely to fly out the window the next time you blow a big work assignment, can’t zip up your pants anymore, or don’t get invited to that big party. Self-esteem is an emotional roller-coaster ride: Our sense of self-worth rises and falls in step with our latest success or failure. Yet we don’t want to suffer from low self-esteem either. What’s the alternative?
There is another way to feel good about ourselves that does not involve evaluating how good or worthy we are: self-compassion. Self-compassion is not based on positive evaluations of ourselves. Rather, it is a way of relating to ourselves. It involves being caring and supportive to ourselves when we fail, feel inadequate, or struggle in life—extending the same feelings of compassion to ourselves that we typically extend to others. People are compassionate to themselves because they’re human beings who suffer, not because they’re special and above average. Unlike self-esteem, therefore, self-compassion emphasizes interconnection rather than separateness. It also offers more emotional stability, because it is always there for you—when you’re on top of the world and when you fall flat on your face.
A huge body of research now supports the mental health benefits of self-compassion, and programs—such as Mindful Self-Compassion, which my colleague from Harvard, Chris Germer, and I developed—are now being taught all over the world.
But what is self-compassion exactly?
As I define it, it involves three key components—being kind to ourselves when we suffer, framing our experience of imperfection in light of the shared human experience, and being mindfully aware of our negative thoughts and emotions.
Three Components of Self-Compassion
1. Self-Kindness
When we are self-compassionate we’re kind to ourselves rather than harshly self-critical, or to put it more simply, we treat ourselves in the same way we would treat a good friend. The golden rule tells us “do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” That’s all well and good, but hopefully we won’t treat others even half as badly as we treat ourselves. Listen to our self-talk: “You’re such an idiot! You’re disgusting!” Would you talk this way to a friend?
It’s natural for us to try to be kind to the people we care about in our lives. We let them know it’s okay to be human when they fail. We reassure them of our respect and support when they’re feeling bad about themselves. We comfort them when they’re going through hard times. In other words, most of us are very good at being kind and understanding toward others, but not toward ourselves. Think of all the generous, caring people you know who constantly beat themselves up (this may even be you). For some strange reason our culture tells us that’s the way we should be—women especially—or we’ll become self-centered and selfish. But is it true?
All harsh self-criticism does is make us feel depressed, insecure, and afraid to take on new challenges because we’re afraid of the self-flagellation that will come if we fail. When our inner voice continually criticizes and berates us for not being good enough, we often end up in negative cycles of self-sabotage and self-harm—and these are incredibly self-focused states of mind.
Self-kindness helps us take the perspective of an “other” toward ourselves. It lets in a breath of fresh air, so we see our pain from a different—more detached—vantage point.
When we are self-compassionate, however, we are kind, nurturing, and understanding toward ourselves when we fail. S