In our last post<\/a>, we examined impressiveness and its more insidious driver, insecurity. We suggested that our efforts to accumulate praise may be a camouflaged attempt to address the nagging question: \u201cAm I ok?\u201d This persistent worry, often located just below the radar of awareness, prompts us to speak and act in ways that (we think) will score us high marks on the approval ratings of others.<\/span><\/p>\nDescribing this tendency is one thing. But how to shake it? How do we let go of the need to impress and embrace our basic \u201cok-ness\u201d?<\/span><\/p>\nApproaches to building security vary. What follows is a sampling of the ways I\u2019ve found most effective, bolstered by clients who have searched for\u2013and often found\u2013a more stable base from which to live.<\/span><\/p>\n5 Paths to Security<\/b><\/p>\n\n- Be yourself and see what happens.<\/b><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
This is the gutsiest approach to becoming more secure, which also means it triggers the most pushback. One way to undercut impressiveness is to simply practice showing up as ourselves and experience first-hand that our fears do not materialize.<\/span><\/p>\nWe employ impressiveness to cover anxiety, and anxiety is rooted in fear. We\u2019re afraid that if we enter a social setting without a glamorous front, we\u2019ll be clobbered by the judgment we\u2019ve been trying to avoid. It\u2019s frightening not to shield ourselves in the face of anticipated scrutiny. By impressing others, we\u2019ve managed to stay safe yet another day.<\/span><\/p>\nHowever, when we drop the impressiveness, we will find that in most situations\u2026 nothing at all happens. We enter the room and no one runs away because of how regular we are. The walls do not cave in. Our standing in the community is not damaged. Those who love us continue to do so (and those who don\u2019t, it was probably time). Nothing that actually matters is lost.<\/span><\/p>\nThe magic of this head-on approach is that it confronts the illusion that the world is ready to reject us as soon as we fail to impress it. It\u2019s time to discover for ourselves that this is not true.<\/span><\/p>\n(I like to employ the Adlerian \u201cas if\u201d technique in this context. Alfred Adler would invite people to \u2018try on\u2019 a way of being <\/span>as if<\/span><\/i> it were their own, just to see how it \u2018fits\u2019. Like testing out an oversized outfit, with time you grow into it and may even find it comfortable. We often feel too small to wear self-assuredness on our sleeves, but after walking around in it for a while, we often find that it fits us nicely.)<\/span><\/p>\n\n- Practice checking in with your conscience.<\/b><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
The flipside of impressiveness is integrity, the quality of being honest with ourselves. We feign confidence only insofar as we muffle our conscience, the voice inside telling us that we are acting out of line with our values. Awareness breaks this pattern. The moment we notice that we\u2019re trying to impress, it becomes much harder to do so.<\/span><\/p>\nDeep down, we want to live in sync with ourselves. This natural law is supported by the rabbinic teaching that a person should strive for <\/span>tocho k\u2019baro<\/span><\/i>, a life of congruence between the inner and outer self (Berachot 28a; Rambam De\u2019ot 2:6). Rather than inflating our image, the way we speak and act should reflect who we really are. Self-promoting violates this ethical standard and sets us at odds with our innate desire to live harmoniously.<\/span><\/p>\nThe more we prioritize integrity, the less we will try to impress others. We will find it harder to put on a show that smells of self-aggrandizement, opting instead to be genuine in our interactions and real with ourselves. We may dazzle less, but at least we\u2019ll be able to look in the mirror of self-reflection at the end of the day.<\/span><\/p>\nEven with integrity as our guide, showing up authentically will still be frightening (back to tip #1), but after lowering an anchor into our sea of conscience, the dissonance we\u2019ll experience when departing from our deeper self (acting like someone we\u2019re not) will remind us that it\u2019s smoother sailing to just be who we are.<\/span><\/p>\n\n- Ground yourself and offer reassurance<\/b><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
I\u2019m fond of couples therapist Susan Heitler\u2019s line to quarreling partners, \u201cCome back to me.\u201d Getting lost in a cycle of fighting is a sure sign that we\u2019ve detached from each other and drifted into unproductive territory. Coming back is a signal to reground and return to presence, which enables us to access the better, kinder version of ourselves.<\/span><\/p>\nDr. Heitler\u2019s imagery is also useful for individuals looking to \u2018one-up\u2019. Setting our sights on impressing means that we\u2019ve detached from ourselves and must find a way back. When the need to impress arises, pause, take a deep breath, and place your hand on your chest. This is a physical reminder that <\/span>you<\/span><\/i> are here too\u2013that there is a person underneath the person you are trying to present yourself as. As you, try to remember the following: \u201cI\u2019m here and I\u2019m ok. I don\u2019t need to contort myself so that others will think highly of me. I\u2019m fine with being myself and moving forward from that position.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\nA cousin of the previous tip, here we emphasize our ability to self-regulate and be self-soothers. We develop security by learning to coach ourselves. This means practicing what we\u2019d like to tell ourselves in moments of self-doubt, a message that grounds us in the moment and reminds us, \u201cCome back to me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n\n- Have a person in your life who can reassure you that you\u2019re ok.<\/b><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
I am fortunate to have been part of conversations of affirmation, and they are powerful. While we aim to draw confidence from within, we (occasionally) get nervous, feel inadequate, and question ourselves. When this happens, there is nothing like meeting the gaze of a trusted confidant who lets us know that we\u2019re going to be alright.<\/span><\/p>\nFinding such a person requires relationship building, which is about time, effort, and vulnerability. Anyone can fill this role in your life\u2013a friend, mentor, parent, sibling, spouse, grandparent, rabbi, teacher, or therapist. The important thing is not to substitute an online personality or podcast host for the real thing. Receiving reassurance in a meaningful way rests on feeling known by the person offering it.<\/span><\/p>\nPeople seem to worry that seeking reassurance breeds neediness, that clingy tendency to overly attach ourselves to others. I understand the concern. Excessively soliciting the acceptance, affection, and approval of others can cause us to inadvertently push away the people we need most. So why encourage it?<\/span><\/p>\nBecause neediness and needing others are not the same. The former is a desperate attempt to fill an internal void, while the latter is an admission of vulnerability, an acknowledgment of the simple fact that we must depend on each other. We all have moments of self-doubt. Having whom to lean on for an infusion of confidence in times of uncertainty is nothing to be ashamed of.<\/span><\/p>\n\n- Develop <\/b>bitachon<\/i><\/b>: a secure attachment to Hashem<\/b><\/li>\n<\/ol>\n
A profound and enduring source of security comes from the Jewish notion of <\/span>bitachon<\/span><\/i>\u2013the deep reassurance that Hashem is with us and taking care of us at all times. The Chovos Halevavos links <\/span>bitachon<\/span><\/i> with <\/span>menuchas hanefesh<\/span><\/i>, stillness of the soul, because trusting that we are held by a loving, nourishing G-d who is never beyond reach is the ultimate source of serenity.<\/span><\/p>\nThe similarity between <\/span>bitachon<\/span><\/i> and secure attachment is striking. As we\u2019ve explained previously, children feel secure when they are raised by caregivers who make them feel safe and protected. As they grow, kids who know that a loving parent is there to lean on, turn to, and take refuge in, grow up feeling free to be themselves, the precursor to developing confidence. This caregiver need not be physically seen at all times, yet even while out of sight, their presence in the child\u2019s life sends a clear message: it\u2019s ok to be you.<\/span><\/p>\nOur relationship with Hashem is meant to look the same. We never stop being Hashem\u2019s children. Like securely attached kids, we turn to Him at regular intervals (tefilah) and rely on His counsel to guide us through life (Torah). He is there when we need Him and even when we feel we don\u2019t. Hashem never leaves us. He doesn\u2019t make His love conditional and always cares about how we\u2019re doing. He doesn\u2019t mind if we turn to Him with little things that seem unimportant\u2013in fact, He cherishes it. He never makes us feel bad for being ourselves. Hashem stands by us through life, whether we are impressive or not. If security is about finding the freedom to be who we are, in our relationship with Hashem we have it.<\/span><\/p>\nThis understanding may explain the verse in Tehilim 32:10: \u201c<\/span>Habot\u2019each baHashem chesed y\u2019sovevenu<\/span><\/i>,\u201d \u201cone who trusts in Hashem will be surrounded by kindness.\u201d What is the relationship between trust and kindness? Why does the verse seem to say that Hashem only shows us kindness when we trust Him? Is His kindness conditional?\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\nThe answer is that a person who relies on Hashem feels enveloped by the kindness that has been there all along. Hashem offers us secure attachment, but we must step into it. When we do, we are activating a relationship in which we can feel cared for at all times. We look to Hashem for support and in return receive acceptance, never rejection. On the contrary, when we bring Him into our lives, we are embraced by the open arms that have been waiting for us the whole time.<\/span><\/p>\nThis point is made beautifully by singer Baruch Levine in \u201cThe Piano Boy.\u201d The song tells of a young boy who is brought to a concert by his mother to hear the great pianist Paderevski. The boy wonders what it would be like to perform onstage, and decides to find out. He slips away and appears before the audience a few minutes later to the sound of cheering. As the mother prays, the boy sits down to play twinkle twinkle little star, and Paderevski walks in. The famous pianist approaches the boy, sits down beside him, and whispers, \u201cKeep on playing.\u201d Their joint composition concludes with a standing ovation from the crowd, and a bow from the musical duo. Rabbi Levine ends the song with the following words: \u201c<\/span>The little boy is each one of us; our lives are on that stage.\/We are children when we step on it, no matter what our age.\/But Hashem wraps his arms around us, and whispers in our ear \u2013\/Just keep on playing, you’re doing great, I promise I’ll always be here.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"In our last post, we examined impressiveness and its more insidious driver, insecurity. We suggested that our efforts to accumulate praise may be a camouflaged attempt to address the nagging question: \u201cAm I ok?\u201d This persistent worry, often located just below the radar of awareness, prompts us to speak and act in ways that (we […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-146","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/146","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=146"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/146\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":150,"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/146\/revisions\/150"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=146"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=146"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lessintherapy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=146"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}