David McElroy

making sense of a dysfunctional culture

If we always beat ourselves up, how will we ever heal and grow?

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I’ve never been very kind to myself.

I didn’t realize that for a long time. Because my internal dialogue was all I’d ever known, I didn’t realize there was any other way to live.

I’ve always been vicious to myself when it came to my physical appearance. When I was a child, I was honestly convinced I was the ugliest boy around. As I got a little older, my worst fear was that no woman would ever be attracted to me.

For my entire adult life, I seem to have been looking for one reason after another to feel shame about myself. Even when there was nothing objective to feel bad about, I couldn’t seem to help myself. I found things to criticize, to doubt and to cause shame.

This has been my template for so many things in life. One of the reasons I know my faults so well — and am willing to admit them to you — is that I’ve spent so much time cataloguing my failings and setting up plans for improving myself.

Lately, though, I’ve found myself dialing down the shame. I’ve started feeling that maybe — just maybe — it’s OK to accept myself, even as I work on becoming a better person.

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Forget your partner’s best traits; worst traits predict your future

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See if you’ve heard this story before. Or maybe lived it.

It was about 12 years ago when my friend married a man who seemed like her dream guy. She cared about money and status and prestige in her church and community. He had it all. He was a successful businessman. He was respected and held positions in community organizations. He was a leader at his church who served on committees and boards.

Before they married, there were warning signs, but she ignored them. He checked every box on her list of things she wanted. Anything else must be insignificant. She could deal with the rest as long as she had her dream man. Her friends and family told her how lucky she was to have someone with his qualities. She agreed.

After the wedding, the fantasy started fading. Those little warning signs she had ignored — the flashes of anger and cruelty — became more common. He routinely called her vile names. He bullied her into not talking with friends anymore. He was insanely jealous for no reason.

And because she thought she had no choice — since she had her dream guy — she put up with it.

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Watching a friend’s happy family makes me feel pangs of jealousy

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The feeling crept up on me so gradually that I didn’t see it coming, but I’ve realized lately that I’m envious of my friend’s happy family.

It’s not a negative thing. I don’t resent what he has. In fact, I get a warm feeling of happiness about what they are. I’m just ready to have the same sort of happy family, too.

My friend mentioned to me this week that they’re all — parents and two children — about to go on vacation together for a couple of weeks. In an email this afternoon, I told him what I’d been thinking.

“I’m envious that you guys are going on a nice vacation together, but I’m even more envious of you having a great family to spend the time with,” I wrote. “At this point in my life, I’m painfully aware of how much I dislike not having a family. It’s funny how so many of our regrets in life are based on specific decisions we wish we had made differently.”

And then I told him about a dream I had a couple of weeks ago.

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