Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts

8/29/23

Beliefs + Behaviors vs. Identity

Distinguishing between our beliefs (what we think), our behaviors (what we do), and our identities (who we are) is a critical part of growing and learning. It also happens to be our best defense against shame. For starters, let's define these terms. 


Beliefs are temporary opinions we hold based on the limited information we currently have available. 


Behaviors are the choices we make and actions we take based on our beliefs. Both our beliefs and behaviors can change easily when we learn from our experiences. 


Identity is the core traits and values that we choose to embrace and embody. When we establish an identity, our beliefs and behaviors will typically evolve to be in alignment with it. While beliefs and behaviors are constantly changing, identity is where we choose to drop our anchor.


Why is this differentiation so important? 

When we think flexibly, test theories, make mistakes, and learn from them, we shouldn’t feel like we're betraying ourselves. Changing our beliefs and behaviors frees us to adapt to our circumstances without shame. Alternatively, if we think that being wrong or making a mistake reflects our actual identity, we’ll view any cognitive or behavioral flexibility as a character flaw. This traps us in belief systems and behavioral patterns that don't even represent our authentic selves.


As children, many of us were taught that our actions represent or even define us. This perspective is completely backward. What we think or do at a single point in time is not who we are. If that were the case, we’d be doomed to be "bad" the first time we make a bad decision. Fortunately, if we don't like the impact that our beliefs and behaviors have on the world, we can change them to be more representative of who we actually are.


How do we know if we're confusing our beliefs and behaviors with our identity?

Three maladaptive (unhelpful) patterns tend to show up when we don’t differentiate. They include shame, defensiveness, and rigid thinking.


Shame: Tying our beliefs and behaviors to our identity makes it way too easy to sink into self-loathing. Every regrettable choice we make seems like proof of our fundamental inadequacy. We think, "If I were a better person, I wouldn't have done that." This leaves us feeling powerless to change. 


Defensiveness: When we think our actions represent our identity, we have a very fragile sense of self to defend. If we make any mistakes or cause unintended harm, we feel vulnerable, instinctively trying to defend ourselves. When someone calls us out for being wrong about something, it feels like an accusation that we’re a bad person. Naturally, we get defensive.


Rigid Thinking: The last trap of conflating our beliefs with our identities is inflexible thinking. Rather than holding our beliefs loosely, we cling to them. We think that compromising or changing our minds will make us lose ourselves. This leaves us trapped in our refusal to change.


None of those outcomes are necessary, though. Our beliefs and behaviors don't define us. Recognizing this distinction brings surprising liberation and empowerment. When we have regrets, we don't need to feel doomed or ashamed. Our regrettable past beliefs and behaviors no longer represent us. Because we’ve learned and grown, we can be a more authentic version of ourselves.

8/5/22

Progress + Equality

It struck me recently how important progress is to our continued human existence. Not only does progress save us from despair by giving us hope for a better future (and hopefully one where we don't destroy the planet); but it also acts as a strong motivator to make the changes that are most difficult. Dedicating our efforts to making the world a better place is investing in our own well-being AND the well-being of future generations. Win-win, right?

Oddly, there seems to always be a subset of the population who are anti-progress. Remember back when America abolished slavery? There was an embarrassingly large group of folks who DIDN'T want slavery to end. There was a whole war about it. Remember when women were given the right to vote? There were protests and moral outrage from those who thought the very idea of an autonomous woman was unnatural. These not-so-long-ago examples are uncomfortably similar to some of our current-day debates.

Since empathy is a high value for me, when I feel myself starting to villainize another person or group, I try to take a step back and consider what the situation looks like from their perspective. I doubt that many people would actually say that they are against progress, so I wonder why so many political, social, and religious talking points seem to suggest otherwise.

From an evolutionary perspective, every living being on the planet is taking part in the slow but irresistible momentum toward adaptation and survival. No organic being is stagnant because we're constantly making adaptive adjustments as our understanding of the world increases. As humans, we're exceptional at learning, imagining, and creating new ways to adapt and progress. Modern medicine, automobiles, and the internet are just of few examples. 

Thanks to this progress, humanity is *finally* at a stage when nearly all of us agree that humans should be treated equally and no one should be enslaved. We're less tribalistic, less racist, less sexist, and much better at protecting vulnerable populations from being exploited. Good job, humans!

Fundamentalists, whether religious or political, seem to have a different perspective, however. It seems that the preservation of their own truths and traditions is a higher priority for them. While I typically endorse letting people choose and pursue their own core values, this quintessential difference in priorities is really getting in our way. In centuries past, this clash was the source of significant frustration and stagnation. Today, it's threatening our very survival as a species.

Instead of giving into panic, I think there's an important discourse we need to have. It begins with some big questions: What does progress look like for humanity right now? Is the old way of operating really worth preserving? What would we be sacrificing if we stopped fighting our own evolution? 

Some of the most important forms of progress that we could choose to embrace right now are seen as threats to many who identify as conservative. A prime example is our evolving understanding of systemic inequity based on race, gender, sexuality, and other factors. Research, empathy, and science have offered us new insight into the unjust nature of our old systems. If you talk to a politically conservative or religiously fundamentalist person on these topics, however, they are very likely to respond with disgust, anger, and even fear. 

This crazy-making predicament honestly makes me hope that we're just having an epic misunderstanding. Because how could any human who values all other humans equally be AGAINST initiatives that increase equity? The problem seems to lie in our basic view of what EQUALITY means. 

If you believe that being transexual is not a legitimate identity, does that mean you're no longer obligated to treat people who say they are trans as equals? If you believe that women were designed to be submissive to men and feminism is wrong, does that mean that you have the right to deny women the opportunity to thrive independently? If you believe that people of other races are just "different" and that's why they have historically experienced more hardships, does that justify your choice not to change ongoing systems that disadvantage them? 

If you believe in Equality, you believe in progress. If you value empathy, you value the well-being of people you disagree with. As individual members of the human race, we don't get to choose which types of equality we feel like supporting. I know that the inevitable slippery slope, family values, and individual freedoms arguments are primed and ready, but ultimately those are excuses to put off making changes that would make all people equal. Maybe then we could focus on saving the planet we all share.

Am I wrong? I often am. If you have a differing opinion that still rests on the assumption that all human beings are equal, I would love to discuss it. 

7/18/22

The Shame Cycle + Religious Trauma

I've worked with therapy clients for long enough to know the telltale cycle that toxic shame turns into. It is the most common reason why people come to therapy, period; and that's especially true for people with religious trauma, even if they don’t know it yet. So what is the shame cycle and what does it have to do with religion?

In normal circumstances, the shame cycle can easily go unnoticed as it slowly demoralizes us. It's even more insidious, however, when a high-control religious group teaches us that it's the way we're supposed to feel. A simple self-defeating pattern gets elevated as the ideal way of living.

At the heart of the matter, people with toxic shame operate off the assumption that their problematic behaviors are a direct representation of who they are. In other words, they conflate their core identity with their external behaviors. This flawed way of thinking inevitably leads to the false conclusion that if we make a “bad” choice, it means that we are bad. 

Unfortunately, many high-control religious groups have inadvertently magnified the harmful impacts of toxic shame and are only now beginning to grapple with the implications. Today we're dealing with the fallout of an entire generation that was raised to believe they are inadequate, unloveable, and powerless to change. As a result, they're plagued by unrealistic expectations, poor personal boundaries, and emotional self-neglect.

Sound familiar? Let's break down the shame cycle step by step:

Shaming Worldview. Something in our upbringing planted the belief that we're not good enough. We try to avoid embarrassment by giving ourselves little shame-based pep talks about how worthless, selfish, or unlovable we are. In high-control religious groups, this can masquerade behind ideas like a "sinful nature" that is disgusting to God.

Imperfection. Since we’re human beings, we inevitably make mistakes or don’t achieve our goals. Our shame-based self-talk takes these opportunities to exaggerate our imperfections, making them doubly humiliating. In high-control religious settings, many are encouraged to confess their "sins" publicly to prove their remorse.

Misinterpretation. We make false interpretations of what our mistakes say about us, allowing them to define our capability, character, or worthiness. High-control religious groups often have a knack for little catchphrases that remind us how we've fallen short, deserve condemnation, and should avoid pride at all costs.

Perfectionism. To stave off self-hatred and the horror of rejection, we decide to prove our worthiness by working harder. We try to achieve absolute perfection by never setting healthy boundaries and working ourselves into exhaustion. High-control religious groups often capitalize on the volunteer labor, monetary support, and sheer desperation to please that comes from this.

Confirmation. When our self-defeating perfectionism eventually backfires, we take it as confirmation that we’re inadequate and incapable. Instead of learning from our unrealistic expectations, we feel doomed. This is the queue for our high-control religious group to offer the one and only remedy: salvation that hinges on total obedience.

Misattribution. Now that we're in a habit of blaming all bad outcomes on ourselves, we need someone to give the credit to when things go well. We attribute all positive experiences to something or someone else, never allowing ourselves to celebrate success. High-control religious groups often use over-spiritualization to attribute all good things to God whether it makes sense or not.

Reinforcement. The shame cycle is now solidly in place, feeding and reinforcing itself each time it repeats. The moral of the story is always that we're not good enough and we don't deserve good things. In high-control religion, this makes us even more ingratiated and reliant on the group that claims to have rescued us.

If this sounds like your story, you're not alone. Even more importantly, you don't have to stay trapped. Healing from the damage of toxic shame, whether it was reinforced by religion or not, is absolutely possible! Don't let shame convince you that you're incapable of change.

- Anna

5/23/22

A Response to the Southern Baptist Convention Report

The investigation report on the Southern Baptist Convention's handling of sexual assault allegations was released this week. As a therapist who works primarily with religious trauma and sexual assault survivors, it was absolutely devastating to read. 

To make a horrifically long story short, leaders in the SBC were proven to have repeatedly ignored, blamed, discredited, and shamed victims of sexual violence who have made outcries over the past decades. They even had a list of known offenders who were still active in church leadership. The Guidepost report's conclusion is that the SBC's executive committee was more concerned with protecting the reputation of the SBC than they were with the actual crimes being committed and hidden. This has left untold numbers of victims invalidated and ostracized by their own religious leaders.

I'm heartbroken for a number of reasons but this doesn't just impact me professionally. It's personal. For over 18 years of my life, the Southern Baptist Convention was like my family. My parents were career missionaries, sent by the International Mission Board, an extension of the SBC, to bring the gospel to the people of the Philippines. For my whole childhood, every meal I ate and every house I lived in was paid for by donations from Southern Baptist churches. When we would visit the states every few years, my family made the rounds to dozens of Southern Baptist congregations asking for their continued generosity.

I wish I could say that I'm shocked to discover that the SBC's leadership is so corrupt, but I'm not. I lived through it myself. I doubt that my name is on their list of victims of unreported sexual assault but it should be. In my case, though, no one else silenced me. I did that myself, believing that it was what God wanted.

At eight years old I had already internalized a very profound belief: I didn't matter to God. How could I? He'd "called" my parents to a remote area of the world to spend their lives saving the lost from eternal damnation and my job was to stay out of the way. That's why, when I was molested by a stranger at 8, I didn't even consider telling my parents. I was sure that speaking up would get me in trouble for interfering with God's calling. That is the culture that the Southern Baptist Convention has been cultivating.

Over the years I've shifted the blame for my trauma a thousand times. Was it my fault somehow? Was it my parent's neglect? Was it the mission board's careless policies? Or Christianity in general? Possibly several of the above. But there's one thing I know for sure: No human being should ever, EVER feel the need to silently bear the burden of being sexually assaulted for the sake of the gospel. 

It devastates me that I ever believed I was worth so little to God, much less to my church and family. It breaks my heart to know that I wasn't the only one who had to bear that unspeakable trauma in silence. It outrages me that so many people have had their lives destroyed by an organization that claims to be doing God's work.

As people of my generation flee American evangelicalism in droves, it's infuriating to hear shock and confusion from those who are still devout. If you want to know why we're leaving, here it is: The evangelical "good news" is a slap in the face to those who have been traumatized and then silenced in the name of a loving God. I no longer attend church or profess to be a Christian, but if a good God does exist, he is undoubtedly disgusted by what this version of Christianity has become.

As we digest the news of the SBC report (only the latest in an exhausting list of similar scandals) we're bound to look for someone to blame. I pray with all of the faith that I have left that we won't let this horror be dismissed by placating statements about "some individuals" who "are not true representations" of Christian beliefs. When enough high-ranking "individuals" in an organization follow the same horrific path, it's time to stop deflecting or feigning shock. It's time to start showing compassion to those who have been silenced by tearing the offending organization down. 

If God is indeed great, he will applaud the fall of corrupt systems; even those that were in his name.

In case you're wondering, yes, I did eventually come forward about what happened. Nearly 20 years after the assault, I finally realized the implications of continuing to hide in shame. I filed an official report but too much time had gone by for any charges to be brought. What matters the most is that I'm no longer holding an innocent eight-year-old girl responsible to sacrifice her safety and emotional wellbeing for the sake of her religion. 

I deeply, truly hope that other survivors of sexual assault in religious settings will find the healing and real freedom that I have found. I hope we will finally hold the perpetrators accountable and stop letting this tragedy play out again and again.

5/8/22

The Lonely Bachelor: A Story About Vulnerability

I've noticed an interesting trend among my clients; particularly those who come to therapy because of a maladaptive behavior that's getting in their way. Often even if they've identified the problem and are motivated to change, they feel powerless. After experiencing disappointment over and over, they mostly believe that change is impossible. Clients with this mindset usually come to their first session looking defeated, skeptical, and often having already predicted that I won’t be able to help them. One of the first interventions I use with these clients is the Empathy Equation. Here's an example.

A client, let's call him Andrew, was a 40-year-old bachelor who was fed up with his long history of failed relationships. At our first session, Andrew said his goal was to learn how to be "less picky" about the women he chose to date. According to his assessment, the problem with his love life was that his standards were too high. He thought if he could learn how to settle for less attractive, successful, and confident women, he might finally find a long term partner. 

Naturally, I was struck by his automatic l assumption that the only thing he had the power to change were his expectations. While I agreed that he had unrealistic expectations, his pickiness didn’t seem to be the heart of the matter. After building trust, I gently encouraged him to tell me his story. Together, we discovered several traumatic events and abandonments early in his life that he had never validated or processed. He was forced to be the "man of the house" and the breadwinner in a rough city at a very young age. It had trained him to project confidence, hyper-masculinity, and perfection at all times to keep from getting stabbed in the back. The business he got involved in just to keep food on the table had required constant bravado and intimidation. Unfortunately, this habit had continued in his dating life. 

Andrew was baffled by the rejections that kept happening despite his best efforts. It would go like this: He'd meet a woman, hoping she'd finally be "the one". He'd spend their first couple dates trying desperately to impress her. He'd show off his spotless, chic apartment and wear clothes carefully chosen to flatter his body. He would brag about his career success, portray himself as fun and carefree, and tell his date about how many people relied on his wisdom and support.

His strategy of projecting absolute perfection inevitably backfired, though. Shocking, I know. If he didn't alienate the woman he was wooing with false arrogance, he would spiral as soon as any vulnerability was required. If she asked him about something he perceived to be a weakness, he would instantly feel humiliated and inadequate. To make the pain more bearable, he'd quickly pivot and identify a flaw in his date. He'd then fixate on it until he'd convinced himself that SHE wasn't good enough for HIM. Thus emerged his theory that his standards were simply too high. 

Andrew's denial about his shame had completely blinded him to the true cause of his relationship troubles. Even after identifying the true issue, several more weeks went by, the cycle playing out again and again. I suspect that deep down, Andrew was still holding out hope that his perfection gambit might work if he just tried hard enough. Finally, however, he was ready to accept the truth: His outdated defense mechanisms were pushing him to withhold empathy from others, and more importantly, from himself.

As the insight grew, he quietly told me a deeper version of his story. He said he'd only survived his traumatic childhood by using bravado to bluff his way out of danger. He had to pretend that he wasn’t wounded. There was no room for mistakes or weakness. As an adult, he’d just continued bragging, competing, and posturing to prove himself. Considering how much professional success it had brought him, the idea of intentionally letting down his guard felt completely counterintuitive. His inner caveman was driving the train. Cognitively, Andrew understood the problem, but when he had opportunities to show vulnerability, he would revert to his old habit and put up a front. 

The first few times he tried to go against his instincts, he had panic attacks, but he kept trying. Slowly but surely, the facade came down, revealing a much more relatable human underneath. By the end of our time working together he was in the longest relationship he’d ever been in. Not only had his love life improved, but the symptoms of depression and anxiety he'd felt for most of his life were significantly reduced.

So what exactly happened? Andrew had started out by noticing the feelings, beliefs and behaviors that were getting in his way. He'd been listening to the inner caveman for so long, he'd confused his behaviors with his identity. But as he started to investigate how his origin story had impacted him, the puzzle pieces fell together. Suddenly his frustrating feelings and habits made sense. Once he understood himself (aka learned self-empathy), he realized he wasn't trapped reacting the old way.

As he learned to have compassion on himself, he gained confidence that the true version of him could be known and loved. By detaching his unhelpful behaviors from his identity, he had the power to choose a different strategy than the one that had been sabotaging him for so long. Much like in my experience with the Bieber Incident, the Empathy Equation helped Andrew reach a deeper understanding of what he was feeling (shame, judgment), believing (survival requires perfection), and behaving (sabotage of intimacy). Once he had accessed self empathy, he gained control of himself.

3/13/22

Anxiety and The Apocalypse

The end of the world sure has come with a lot of new anxieties. Global catastrophes used to just be the theme of the fiction books I enjoyed reading. Now they’re the theme of my regular news feed (and nightmares). This is probably why the number of people getting diagnosed with anxiety disorders, depression, and OCD has skyrocketed in recent years. Then again, every generation before mine insists they had things just as bad, if not worse.

Generational gaslighting aside, one of our most collectively debilitating anxieties in this post-apocalyptic landscape is our fear of conflict. As existential problems have multiplied, so have strong, polarizing opinions. This has set us up to dread discussing anything of substance with friends and family. In the good old days, one only had to conform to cisgender/heterosexual norms and Judeo-Christian morality in order to remain safe from societal rejection. Not anymore. We’re tiptoeing through a minefield of delicate issues, hoping to avoid all of the topics that could set off a relationship bomb.

Whether I’m meeting someone new, posting on social media, or having a family dinner, there’s a sick feeling in my stomach that comes up when the conversation turns to politics, religion, social issues, or anything in between. If I express an opinion, the best-case scenario is I’ll get unfollowed on social media. Worst case scenario is having a miserable confrontation that causes a permanent rift in a relationship. Many of us, myself included, have already experienced both of these outcomes.

The internet, both a blessing and a curse, has polarized us even more. While our access to diverse ideas and perspectives has increased exponentially, we also now have unlimited access to misinformation and unchecked prejudice. It’s disturbingly easy to get sucked into an extremist rabbit hole online that regurgitates and amplifies any belief, factual or not. These self-fulfilling forums are echo chambers that do nothing but reinforce the reader’s pre-existing biases.

Moderation, once a virtue, has taken on a connotation of cowardice or apathy. If you aren’t dealing with high blood pressure and regular panic attacks, do you even care about “what’s going on in the world”?? I can’t help but wonder what this growing minefield of outrage means. Have we collectively chosen to discard empathy in favor of intolerance and nuance in favor of false dichotomies? I recently read an unnerving article that said Americans are exhibiting the early signs of an approaching civil war. How the hell did we get here?

Numerous psychologists, philosophers, and religious leaders have been speculating. I think the culprit is our tribalistic “us versus them” thinking; in other words, our lack of empathy. As humanity faces complex new challenges, we've gotten comfortable in our echo chambers that reinforce that anyone who hasn’t come to our exact same conclusion is an enemy. "They" aren't reasonable human beings but a faceless, evil opponent. Our othering has pushed us double down right when compromise is essential.

Meanwhile, progress on our most pressing issues has slowed to a crawl because no one is willing to listen, compromise, admit fault, or change. The death toll of the COVD-19 pandemic and the war in Ukraine are two sobering examples of how many lives can be lost when we refuse to keep communicating beyond a disagreement.

I suspect that poor conflict management skills are a big contributor, but on an even deeper level, our resistance to evolving into a more empathetic human race is what’s blocking our progress. In the midst of bitter rivalries, reason would push us to take a look at our own contribution to the problem and empathy would help us recognize the understandable motives of those with whom we're in a stalemate. Unfortunately, the hip thing to do is to dig in our heels deeper and wait for the “other side” to come to their senses.

We face a pivotal fork in the road right now. Empathy isn't a luxury anymore, it’s a necessity to our survival as a species. If we want peace and hate war as much as we claim, all of us will have to intentionally choose to evolve. Stretching our capacity for empathy means learning how to actually listen to and tolerate other perspectives. We desperately need some common ground. Our only alternative is continuing to alienate everyone we disagree with, mutually ensuring our own destruction through endless stalemates.

You might be thinking, “Obviously! Everyone needs to get with the program!” You're right, but there’s one major problem: Nobody is personally willing to admit that we are bad at empathy. We all feel intuitively wise and can't imagine that we might be contributing to intolerance. It’s easy to preach the gospel of empathy when looking at other people’s stubbornness, but when our own values are questioned, a blind spot becomes quickly apparent.

As a therapist, I've witnessed first-hand the denial that most of us are in about our prejudice and biases. We automatically exempt ourselves whenever sober self-examination is called for. And it's understandable. We all need to be the protagonist of our life stories so when the evidence contradicts that, we opt for denial instead of willingness to change.

I've got good news, though. Empathy isn't a trait that you either have or don't have. It's a teachable skill that
 can melt our rage and cultivate true compassion for people who see the world differently. 

If you’re a natural skeptic like me, this may sound like a lofty goal. Despite my chronic nihilism, though, I believe in humanity’s capacity to continue growing as an ever-evolving species. If we're intentional, we can push our evolution in a more adaptive direction that could spare us (and hopefully our descendants) a whole lot of pain. 

In future blog posts I'll share my personal story of learning how to empathize, offer a fool-proof formula for empathy, and address the major barriers that tend to block our way. Stay tuned.