I posted a reel on Instagram yesterday. It was the B-roll kind, me doing whatever in the background with the focus on the words. And the background video I chose was me playing this really cool turquoise piano last year at a sober retreat.
It was an average reel. I wasn’t expecting much engagement. But the comments that did come in threw me for a bit of a loop. Brought up some old feelings, I guess. In a way that made me kind of cringe.
“Is there anything you DON’T do?”
Oh, my friends. I do so many things. But let me tell you a little bit about why.
I was Addicted to Praise.
Maybe out of actual necessity, maybe out of perceived necessity. But in my mind – ever since I was just a little girl – in order to be seen as worthy of being liked, one must constantly be achieving bigger and better things. In order to stand out, and not just blend in with the mediocrity of the world, one must continue to do more, and more, and more. Somehow, I came to understand love not as something that was shown, but something that was said. I collected praise like proof that I mattered.
So many messages from my childhood, all wrapped up into one very warped way of existing.
I didn’t understand what love was. The old version of me thought love equated to approval. Words of affirmation wasn’t just my love language. It was the only way I knew how to receive love. If I wasn’t being told that I was worthy, I assumed I wasn’t. And the only way to keep hearing those words is to keep doing bigger and better things. Keep impressing them. Keep them watching, so they can keep saying the things I needed to hear.
My life Revolved Around Getting Other People to Fight Off The “You’re Not Good Enough” that Was Stuck On Repeat In My Mind.
I’m blessed to have many talents. I’m creative, I’m good with my hands, and I’m fairly athletic. This meant there were all kinds of ways for me to stand out. To earn praise. To get people to tell me I’m good enough. That I’m worthy of love. Worthy of existing. That I matter.
Anything I tried that I was reasonably good at, I took to the extreme. Knitting? Why stop at scarves and hats, when I could create intricate lace shawls and sweaters, epic creations that make people say, “I wish I could do something like that!” Hiking? If a five mile hike gets some validating comments on Facebook, then 500 miles will certainly get more! Gardening? Growing tomatoes is fine, but plowing a quarter acre and growing and canning all your own food for a year must be better.
It’s interesting, because at some point the line between “this is something I really love doing” and “this is something that gets me affirmation” gets blurred.
When I stopped drinking, and I focused my intention on living authentically, I realized I couldn’t tell the difference. Did I really love gardening? Knitting? I had no idea. I didn’t know what I did because I loved doing it, and what I did because I loved the validation other people gave me for doing it. It sounds so… disconnected.
And, of course, I was disconnected. The woman I really am was buried under layers upon layers of shame and hustling, low self worth and perfectionism. I was a performer in my own life. An actor who was so in tune with the character she was playing that she forgot who she really was.
I spent The Past 3 Years Undoing It All.
- Redefining love, not as approval but as mutual respect, empathy, and vulnerability. As a celebration of who the other person is, and shared emotional support and connection. An often unspoken agreement to grow together.
- Finding worthiness from within, instead of always asking others to provide it. It’s strange to describe such a life-altering transformation in one sentence. It feels like it deserves a novel.
- Learning to let good enough be good enough. Not everything has to be bigger and better than everyone else. I don’t have to stand out in order to feel like I matter. I just have to be at peace with how I choose to spend my time.
I’m a completely different person than I was three years ago. It might not be easy to see from the outside looking in. But from my vantage point, the landscape is unrecognizable.
I think those comments regarding my playing the piano hit me hard because they reminded me so much of those comments I used to live for. I know they were meant as kindness, and I’m grateful for them. In some ways, I think I still find myself feeling ashamed of how broken my way of existing used to be. But, as with everything, I remind myself – I was doing the best I could with what I knew at the time.
Now that I know better, I can do better.
And yes, I do play the piano. A few years ago, I was given a 120 year old piano. I taught myself just enough that I can play a few songs really well. I read music, poorly. I don’t do it because I’m great at it. I do it because I’ve learned to let myself do things that I’m bad at, and enjoy them anyway.
Have you ever felt like your worth was tied to your accomplishments? Let’s talk about it in the comments!
Julie Miller, RCP is a certified recovery coach. After a decade of too much drinking, she found her way into an alcohol free life and is now thriving. Her recovery is founded in overcoming shame, finding her authentic self, and creating a life so full there’s no space left for alcohol. Through her coaching, podcasting, and the recovery community she has built, Julie has found her purpose in helping others find their way out of addiction and into a meaningful, purpose filled life of freedom.
Wow it’s like I just read my own life story. I have been told the same thing. And you are absolutely right. You are spot on. I look forward to continuing this journey with you.