How I Stopped Being Mean to Myself (And Why It Healed My Body)

I was walking downtown with my family one day, carrying a pretty wooden box I’d found at the thrift store, when my right leg turned into cooked spaghetti and I face-planted on the sidewalk. 

My kids were young, and I guess it looked pretty goofy, or they were embarrassed, because they laughed. So I did too, as I picked myself up, examined the box for damage, and carried on. On the outside, a moment of oops.

In my head, I was Cruella de Vil, ready to skin myself for being so stupid. More concerned about my kids not being scared about their mother wiping out, and the state of the damn box than I was about myself.

That moment, laughing it off while mentally shredding myself, was standard operating procedure. I was really mean to myself. Like the stereotypical mean girl, berating and insulting myself. Like that would snap the MS out of me.

When my body was screaming for a rest, I’d call myself ‘lazy’ and keep pushing through. Then collapse for two weeks.

When I’d drop something, or my leg would pretzel and I’d fall, I’d get angry and call myself ‘stupid’ or ‘useless’.

I finally read something that asked: Would you talk to your best friend that way? Your child? Your pet?

The next time I fell, I tried it. Instead of ‘You stupid idiot,’ I attempted ‘That was graceful.’ Because, you know, humour. It felt ridiculous. Like lying to myself. But I kept trying. And slowly, so slowly, something shifted.

I realized that I deserve the same loving consideration and understanding I give to others. You do too.

Habitual negative thought ➡️ Supportive new thought

• You’re lazy. ➡️ You deserve to rest.
• Idiot. ➡️ Careful there, futterbingers. (Butterfingers)                                                                                                          
• I’m so sick of being sick. ➡️ Healing takes time.
• I can’t do anything anymore. ➡️ What’s one small thing I can do today?
• People think I’m faking. ➡️ What other people think is none of my business. 

These are just a few examples. Pay attention to when you’re being hard on yourself, and change any negative criticism to an encouraging positive statement. Your inner critic needs to take a backseat. Preferably in another car going the other direction… or off a cliff. Because here’s what I’ve learned…

When I stopped punishing my adult self and spoke to my 5 year old self instead, my body started feeling safe enough to heal. The alarming symptoms she was sending to get my attention lessened the nicer I was to myself.

That scared, hurting little girl didn’t need a drill sergeant. She needed someone to tell her she was doing her best. That she was brave. That she deserved rest and kindness and patience.

She still does. So do you.

That pretty box? I keep it beside my bed to hold my daily gratitude post-it notes. It’s a little banged up but still functional and beautiful. Sort of like me.

Healing is not a straight line, it’s more like bumper cars. You’ll crash, back up, crash again, but you’re still moving forward. Day by day, with patience and consistency, it adds up and you will see progress.

What’s the nasty thing you catch yourself saying? What’s a simple reframe? Let me know in the comments.

❤️ Amanda

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