How to Cheer Yourself up Without Feeling Remorse
As much as I love the idea of affirmations, I never felt anything but banality when I said, “I can do it!” or any other type of positive self-talk that should motivate me. I have a pair of shoes with “I’ve had enough” written on the insoles and I get inexplicably angry every time I read this message. It feels like someone is putting words into my mouth. If I’m going to say something that begins with “I”, it has to be a thought that I’m actually feeling at the moment, not scripted motivational nonsense.
If you, too, are disgusted by the “I…” or “I can…” statements, there is a better way: talk to yourself as if you were a different person. Instead of monologue (“I can do it, I’m strong…”), talk to yourself as if you were giving advice to a friend.
There is research supporting the idea that this kind of “distancing” can help our self-talk become stronger. The easiest way to do this is to stop talking about yourself as “I” and switch to “you”. But I think we can go further: instead of just paraphrasing empty platitudes, tell yourself how to deal with the difficulties you are trying to make.
After all, you know what you’re doing; that’s why you are here. You have the knowledge and experience to carry you through the difficult task you set out to do. Acknowledge the experience and let the part of you that knows you can do it encourage the part of you that isn’t so sure.
Divide yourself into coach and athlete
For example, let’s say I’m going on a long run. Maybe the mileage scares me a little. “Keep the first mile slow,” I tell my trainer self, my runner. “The first mile is just a warm-up . It’s okay if you get past part of it. But you probably won’t need to. When we get to the second mile, we will check our pace and see if we need to adjust.”
Sometimes I switch, as I did then, to “we,” as if my “coach self” takes responsibility for making sure we both make it to the finish line. Sometimes I prefer more direct instructions and use the pronoun “you” to give myself instructions or enforce rules. “Today you run eight miles. You can run part of the track behind the baseball field, but first you need to complete one lap around the paved loop. You have enough water to last all the way, but you can stop to fill up at the fountain if you want – just hurry up so you don’t waste too much time.
I find it comforting, in a way. My inner athlete can trust my inner coach; she has everything planned for me. And when things get tough, I can step back from my body (which only says “I can’t” in the first person) and become a coach. “Yes you can.” This is a message that I can believe.