Friends
Why We're So Hard on Ourselves, and Not on Others
How we can start treating ourselves like we treat our friends.
Posted April 17, 2023 Reviewed by Devon Frye
Key points
- Our automatic thoughts criticize us to keep us safe.
- Ironically, they empathize with friends to support them and help them succeed.
- When we understand the origin of negative self-talk, we can dismiss it and treat ourselves like we treat our friends.
Have you ever noticed how much nicer you are to your friends than to yourself?
We comfort our friends and cheer on their goals, yet we constantly criticize ourselves. We rehash every mistake. We compare ourselves to others. We don’t feel we are good enough or worthy enough for our own dreams. It’s endless.
Negative self-talk served an important evolutionary purpose. It comes from the default mode network, a brain circuit that helped people survive by aligning their interests with clan norms. Follow the standards of the group and you stay safe; step outside the lines and you risk ostracism and potential death. This is why the default mode is self-directed and critical—it's trying to keep you alive.
Ironically, as the default mode harangues us with what we did wrong, it responds with empathy and support for our friends. It cares about helping others.
So how can we flip the script, and start treating ourselves with the care we give our friends? We start by understanding how self-criticism operates:
- It is automatic. When you are not actively focused on something, the default mode network runs. We passively listen to these thoughts. They often feel more real than life itself, disrupting our relationships, ability to focus, and sleep.
- We believe it. Listening to self-criticism creates rumination. For example, someone grieving the loss of a loved one might think, “I’m so tired and low today,” then think, “What’s wrong with me? I still can’t get over this,” and then, “Maybe I can’t handle anything.” When we try to make meaning from our thoughts, we spiral.
- We shape our lives based on it. The default mode is the voice that makes you feel you are not enough: not good enough, worthy enough, lovable enough, successful enough. It convinces you that you will be happy and safe when you achieve whatever your external concept of success is, whether it is losing weight or living in a big house. Yet when you get there, it moves the goalpost, because the default mode network is a vigilance system. It cares about present threats only, so it will find some new insecurity. Nothing will ever be good enough.
When we stop listening to the default mode network, we start to hear our authentic voice. We let go of external expectations and the desire to “keep up with the Joneses.” We step more fully into ourselves.
Next, go into friend mode. When your thoughts are getting the better of you, think about what you would say if a friend were sharing those things. Journal your responses. When we actively focus our attention on responding and writing, it snaps us out of the negative self-talk spiral and lets us access our caring and supportive side.
You can take this one step further by imagining your Higher Self as a caregiver. Visualize climbing into your Higher Self’s lap and getting soothed. Take deep breaths and feel the embrace. This visualization gives you an experience of loving kindness that we so often deprive ourselves.
It is time for us to dismiss our automatic, primitive fear machine. It is time for us to treat ourselves like we treat our friends.
References
Diamond, J. (2012). The World Until Yesterday: What We Can Learn from Traditional Societies? Viking Penguin.
Li, W., Mai, X., & Liu, C. (2014). The default mode network and social understanding of others: what do brain connectivity studies tell us. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, 8(74), 1-5.
Raichle, M.E., MacLeod, A.M., Snyder, A.Z., Powers, W.J., Gusnard, D.A., & Shulman, G.L. (2001). A default mode of brain function. PNAS, 98(2), 676-682.
Soderberg, P., & Fry, D.P. (2016). Anthropological Aspects of Ostracism. In K.D. Williams & S.A. Nida (Eds.), Ostracism, Exclusion, and Rejection (pp. 258-272). Routledge.