On Affirmations

I once read about a guy who had a rough breakup, but wanted to be a better person. In order to achieve that goal, this man changed his computer password to “Forgive Her”, forcing himself to type it out several times a day. This was obviously painful for him, at first, but as I recall it worked: the man was able to forgive, and move on with a more peaceful, compassionate life. I forget where I read this: probably some blog post a decade or more ago.

After reading it, I changed my password to something like “Be Nicer To People,” because at the time I was struggling with a lot of anger. I’ve always had a short fuse, and at this time in my life I was exceptionally short-tempered. It was taking a toll on my life personally and professionally. I thought a simple, declarative statement to myself might help me chill out, in the way that man was able to forgive. It didn’t really work. I used several iterations of that sentiment as my password for some time, forcing me to say it to myself several times a day. But that wasn’t really enough.

Upon reflection, I wonder if the formulation of a command was the best choice. I certainly didn’t know better, at the time, and likely wasn’t in a frame of mind to really track success of different options over time. But looking back, a statement of my desired state rather than an imperative may have produced different results. I could have tried “You Are A Patient Person”, or the like. Giving myself a command, and then failing to satisfy that comamnd, creates a negative spiral of emotion for me: I let myself down! Making a statement about who I believe I am, and then falling short of that, somehow feels a little kinder: it gives me room to keep growing.

People my age are likely to remember the Saturday Night Live character Stuart Smalley who was known for his affirmations “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh darnit people like me!” As with most comedy characters, the nuggets of truth get stretched and distorted to become farcical. I certainly remember parroting back those affirmations in a derogatory way, as though any amount of self-praise like this was silly, and a waste of time (hello toxic masculinity!).

It wasn’t until I read Learned Optimism that I really appreciated how self-narratives work. Giving myself a command didn’t help much whereas learning to adjust the way I describe myself did have a positive result. Instead of saying things like “I’m an angry man,” a negative and permanent description of my self, I learned to say “I am feeling really angry right now.” With practice – a lot of practice – I was eventually able to say things like “I am feeling angry about this specific trigger.” Changing my focus from permanent traits to temporary conditions helped build a healthier view of the world and my place in it.

I’ve been able to use more temporary descriptions of myself, recognizing things as a moment in time, rather than an immutable trait of myself. I may say I’m not very good at software development, and that’s a verifiably true statement, but I silently tack on “at this time” because I know software development is a skill that one improves with time and dedication, and I have not applied my time or dedication to improving this skill. It’s not a failing on my part to be a sub-par software developer, nor is it a permanent condition, as I’ve chosen to spend my time and energy elsewhere.

I’d be lying if I said reading a single book helped me get to where I am now, of course. I went to therapy every week for a couple years. It was super scary at first, because Western U.S. culture has such wildly inaccurate and derogatory conceptions of therapists and therapy. But my therapist was great. I could write pages and pages about my experience with therapy. If anyone’s curious, feel free to email me and we can talk about it.

Was it enough to say affirming things to myself? No. Was it a necessary part of my journey to get where I am today? Absolutely.