We attach ourselves to myths as if they were manifestos. We fall into these myths and sing along to their familiar melodies until we find ourselves walking in the same tenor of these beliefs. They ring in the air. Unasked, they call to us. Unconscious, we are bidden. Myths are dangerous, because they begin with truth and end with a retelling, like an elaborate game of telephone where each participant memorializes themselves by accenting and adding to the plain, naked word.
We grow up with myths, and some of these myths are true, and tell us, as G. K. Chesterton famously writes, “what the fairytale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon.” Some of the myths we hum and whistle along to are valuable, for as in the example written above, we need to be bred on stories that call out our strength, our courage, our heart for beauty.
However. In our Pinterest plagued world, where aphorisms run rampant, the potential for myths to evolve and become part of our consciousnesses by sheer repetition begs a word of caution. We are inundated with words shouting a kind of messy, name-it-and-claim-it philosophy that springs up in blog posts and websites and Instagram captions like some sort of pernicious strain of virus.
Again - it is not that these myths are false, for the source they’ve come from may ring with truth. But in the prevalence and prolific growth, they’ve taken on a quality unlike their original sound.
One of the most dangerous myths I’ve encountered is what I call, The Myth of “Being too Hard on Yourself.” The myth isn't that Being Too Hard on Yourself isn't a reality, but that it's heralded as a good thing. I'm not sure where this strain began; perhaps along the lines of girl-bosses and their accomplishments and our entrepreneurial culture, we started molding a story that made sense to us.
The people we tell to not be so hard on themselves are the people who, to our eyes, seem to be the people who are succeeding. How often do we take this comment as a source of pride - and how often is it spoken to another begrudgingly, as if only we could push ourselves to the same extent?
And here is what the Myth of “Being too Hard on Yourself” says in the footnotes:
The myth of being too hard on yourself says that by accumulating extra tasks, you’re being a boss.
The myth of being too hard on yourself says “push yourself!” and “you can do it!” and makes no allowance for any deviance below “doing it all.”
The myth of being too hard on yourself champions hustling without thought of rest or balance.
The myth of being too hard on yourself says you are better for doing more, even if more only means extra busy-work that doesn’t add anything to your mental or emotional, professional or personal life.
The myth of being too hard on yourself says that demanding more of yourself is the only answer.
The truth gets tangled in an addendum; myth moves from a fairy tale that tells us the truth about ourselves to an old-wives tale that spouts superstition. Somewhere along the lines of Tumblr text posts with happy-go-lucky quotations and articles about girl-bosses (the latter not a bad thing!), being too hard on yourself has been memorialized as a myth of positivity. Pushing yourself is a good thing - within reason. However, I’ve never found a context in which being too hard on yourself is a good response unless you're looking to promote guilt, feelings of inadequacy, and anxiety that spills into chronic stress.
In this case, it's better to "throw out the baby with the bathwater" entirely, and find a new story to tell ourselves. One in which it is okay to fail and to let that feeling roll off our shoulders. One in which working hard is not synonymous with never giving yourself a break. One in which rest is as emphasized as hustle. One in which we are braver, better, and stronger for giving ourselves grace.
