The Unlearning

We all inherit beliefs about ourselves and the world. Some serve us for a lifetime. Others quietly shape our decisions long after they've stopped being true.

Over the last few years, I've been noticing the beliefs I was carrying without realizing it. These are a few I've slowly learned to let go of. I hope reading mine helps you become curious about your own.

1. Relationship between self-worth and intelligence

I am a little ashamed to admit that intelligence was a criterion I weighed people on.

Don’t get me wrong. It all happened in sneaky ways at a subconscious level. Over the years, I have truly disengaged from this definition of self-worth and stopped putting so much weight on my own intelligence as well.

This has been incredibly freeing. I no longer feel the need to sound smart. I pick up hobbies that bring me joy, not because they make me more productive or help me appear intelligent.

You might not hold this belief. You might hold it in small doses.

We all have ways of profiling people. Race, socioeconomic background, religion, gender, education, accent, physical abilities, and so on. Mine was intelligence, as evidenced by their job, education, and conversation.

Ask yourself if that way of profiling people still serves you.

Mine needed an update.

But letting go of one outdated belief often reveals another that has been quietly running the show all along.

2. Disappointing people

I was also a very undercover people pleaser. So undercover that I wasn't even aware of my desire to keep everyone around me happy.

It was critically important to me that people found me intelligent (theme from the first point), nice, and fun. The weight of wearing these personality masks at work and in relationships really wore me out.

I am now stepping into being okay with disappointing people.

The disappointment they feel is often about them and their expectations, not me. It still feels supremely uncomfortable, and I often find myself reverting to my old habitual responses of appeasing. But now I am aware, and I am learning to sit with that discomfort instead of immediately trying to fix it.

The less I care about disappointing others, the more I care about honoring my true inner self.

Who are you afraid of disappointing? What would open up in your life if you turned down the volume on that fear?

It also made me question something deeper. What does it actually mean to value myself?

This brings me to my next point.

3. Definition of self-esteem

Or at least what I had learned it to be.

For a long time, I conflated self-esteem with ego or pride. Over the years, I have come to realize that self-esteem is built, in large part, on esteeming our own opinions, needs, and preferences.

Esteem yourself.

Every time I put my needs aside to please someone else. Every time I don't take a risk because of a false narrative I believe. Every time I commit to something I tell myself is important but don't follow through. These little and big actions are either a vote for or against my self-esteem.

Self-esteem and confidence are not measured by who speaks the loudest, commands the room, or isn't shy.

They are measured by how much we value ourselves enough to keep our promises to ourselves.

This does not happen overnight. It is built through tiny, micro-uncomfortable steps.

What promises to yourself do you find yourself breaking most often?

As I started honoring myself more consistently, it also changed the way I looked at my relationships.

4. Self-love practices

I used to believe I loved myself deeply because I advocated for my needs and genuinely enjoyed spending time alone. I wasn't wrong.

I did like myself.

But only the parts of myself I had accepted.

Quietly, over the years, I had created a subconscious algorithm of behaviors that were socially acceptable and those that weren't.

If an emotion fit that algorithm, kindness, flexibility, being easygoing, I welcomed it. If it didn't, anger, irritation, envy, complaints, I rationalized it away or buried it deep enough that it quietly festered or self-criticized myself into compliance.

With the help of my shadow work guide, I slowly came face to face with the parts of myself I used to wish away.

But that can't be love.

Extending affection, warmth and acceptance only when certain conditions are met is a business deal. If my relationship with myself was transactional, how could my love for others be anything different?

Where have you made your own love conditional? What parts of yourself still feel like they need to earn acceptance?

The more I sat with this realization, the more I questioned something even deeper. What if these emotions and behaviors weren't flaws at all?

5. Human Nature

   
   

My understanding of human nature has become more nuanced. I no longer see certain emotions or behaviors as flaws to eliminate, but as part of the complexity of being human.

Real self-love began when I stopped trying to become a better version of myself and started becoming a more whole one.

Every single one of us contains kindness, compassion, anger, envy, self-sabotage, confidence, despondency, and so much more. Unfortunately, society divides these into desirable and undesirable traits.

When the "undesirable" ones show up, we often rationalize them, hide them, numb them, or exile them because we fear what they might say about us.

Self-love, for me, has become learning to sit with these parts when they arise and giving them a voice.

What is my anger trying to tell me?

It might sound irrational. It might sound ungrateful. It might even sound unacceptable.

But I love myself enough to let that part of me speak because it clearly wants to be seen.

I don't rationalize it away.

I give it space to breathe so it feels less rejected and more integrated.

Ironically, many of these exiled parts don't need to "act out" as often once they are seen, noticed, accepted, and heard.

What parts of yourself have you been trying to silence? What would it feel like to simply say hello to them, without judgment?