How to Tame Your Inner Troll

Science proves that self-compassion makes us more motivated, hopeful, and resilient. So let’s stop the self-bashing and get off our backs already

I’m an idiot. A lazy, directionless waste of human flesh. A burden to my friends as I perpetually wallow in a chasm of self-pity that I am so much less than I ever hoped I’d become. I have no discipline when it comes to my work schedule and even less about eating an acceptable amount of Hershey Kisses per night. I’m sabotaging every good idea I get, all my achievements were more luck than judgment, and how much longer will I be able to disguise what a massive pile of insufficient failure I am?

My apologies. I typically don’t talk about myself like that in public. Usually, I reduce myself to nothing in the comfort of my own head. And I’m not even a mean person! Quite the contrary, I have a lot of understanding for human imperfection.

Other humans’, that is.

When my friend broke down the other day because she couldn’t seem to finish her work project in time, I listened to her, took her in my arms, and reassured her that she was being too hard on herself. When she went on to tell me, she would hardly listen to what her kids had to say anymore, was gaining weight by the minute, and failing to keep her goal of meditating daily, I hugged her even harder. Of course, it’s difficult for her to be present for her family and not eat her feelings, what with the stress of working under the unsettling conditions of a pandemic. Of course, meditation could be just what she needed right now, but it’s all too human to have a hard time putting good ideas into practice. She was walking her path at her pace, and I encouraged her that she was doing it beautifully. I was being a friend. With myself, however, I’m a hateful troll.

I know I’m not alone here. Why are we so shockingly mean to ourselves?

Self-compassion as an object of research first appeared on the stage of science with Dr. Kristin Neff in 2003. Her definition is as simple as it is difficult to apply: Treat yourself the way you would a friend. When we make a mistake, don’t reach a goal, or feel vulnerable for any reason, we should console ourselves instead of condemning our defects.

Kristin Neff points out three components of self-compassion:

• Be kind, warm, and understanding toward yourself. Recognize that being imperfect is inevitable, and accept that not everything, if anything, will turn out precisely the way you want.
• It’s irrational to think that you are the only faulty mortal out there. “Self-compassion involves recognizing that suffering and personal inadequacy is part of the shared human experience,” says Neff.
• Don’t bathe in your negative emotions, but neither suppress them. Just notice they are there, as they’re supposed to be. No judgment. “We cannot ignore our pain and feel compassion for it at the same time.”

The kindness will pay off. Many psychological and neuroscientific studies have shown that self-compassion boosts our resilience in difficult situations and makes it easier to deal with whatever emotion stands between us and a fine day. People with more self-compassion are more optimistic and hopeful, are better partners in relationships, and suffer less from stress, anxiety, and depression.

Well, that sounds promising! Time for a few kind words for myself. I try the 5-minute long Self-Compassion Break, one of the audio exercises Neff is offering on her website. First step: call up a little suffering. Easy. An editor of a German magazine asked me to contribute a piece to a special edition about love and sex. “Something personal would be fun,” they wrote. Excited about the opportunity, I moved the e-mail into my “Decide!” folder and proceeded to get lost in my love life. Overwhelmed, I took a day of rest. Took another day to make peace with lovers past and fret my heart’s future. Doubted for some time that anyone will be interested in my thoughts on the matter, then questioned why my escapades should be anybody’s business anyway. I contemplated my limits of opening up, got mad at myself for wasting time with stupid considerations, mad at the magazine for choosing this subject, and then again at myself for not being able to just get the hell to work. Then I researched what happened to the actress playing Julie McCoy on “Love Boat” and finally sent five proposals to the editor.

The next day, I got an e-mail back thanking me for my ideas. But being two weeks later, the magazine issue was already planned out with a long back-up list. Too late. I lost an opportunity for some fun writing as well as a thousand euros. I caused a dent in my status as a reliable provider of ideas. The fact that I now knew that Julie McCoy, aka Lauren Tewes, attended culinary school to become a cheese specialist didn’t help much to break my self-loathing.

“This is really hard right now,” Neff’s voice from the audio exercise whispers in my ear. She wants me to acknowledge my problem without judging it or trying to solve it. Just listen. Fine. Yes, I’m suffering. I’m embarrassed, I’m angry, and I’m kicking myself for being a lazy self-sabotager, always giving in to anxiety instead of showing up for life…. Oops, I’m judging again. Get back to mere observing: I didn’t provide an article idea for one issue of a magazine. And I’m sad.

“Suffering and personal inadequacy is part of the shared human experience.” — Dr. Kristin Neff

“It’s not abnormal to feel this way,” the audio is hugging me. “Many people are going through it. Suffering is part of being human.” Recognizing that life isn’t going perfectly for anyone is an essential element of self-compassion. It’s also what differentiates self-compassion from self-pity — here, we are sorry for ourselves because bad things only ever happen to us and all the time.

I’m thinking of another “I’m not good enough there’s something wrong with me” story that my inner troll is passionate about telling me: I should accomplish more with the time I have. I know I’m not the only one with this particular self-criticism, am I? To all my fellow self-bashers, I would say that you’re imposing unrealistic standards onto yourselves. You don’t see what you accomplish if you only focus on what remains undone. You’re doing your best, and it’s good enough, I’d say.

I, however, don’t want to hear any of this because my best hasn’t been even close to enough for far too long. The ship of sympathy sailed a long time ago. I don’t need kind words but a mighty kick up the backside. Seriously, I’d be a completely lost cause if I came to the conclusion that whatever I’m doing might be even remotely ok. I’d end up a blob full of chocolate in fleece pants on the couch, feeling perfectly good about myself. I’m judging again, I know.

But as it turns out, I’m not alone with this fear of sloth. Studies have shown the worry of becoming weak and lazy as the primary obstacle on the way to more self-compassion. Our self-criticism is fueled by the assumption that any kind of indulgence will rob us of our motivation. As soon as we start cutting ourselves a break, we’ll let ourselves get away with anything.

Science offers a clear answer to these concerns: poppycock. On the contrary, self-compassion has a motivating effect. In a study of the University of Californa, Berkely, researchers made students take a difficult vocabulary test and gave them a message targeting either self-compassion (this is a tough test, don’t be too hard on yourself) or self-esteem (don’t feel bad if it’s hard — you’ve proven to be intelligent as you got into Berkely!) or they gave them no message. The researchers then compared how long the students would study for a second test following the initial failure, and lo and behold: Those reinvigorated with self-compassion spent 33% more time studying than the self-esteem group and 51% more time than the neutral group. In another experiment, the self-compassion group reported a greater motivation to change personal weaknesses. Self-criticism and shame undermine self-confidence and use up emotional energy that is consequently missing for solving the problem. If we meet our failures with self-compassion, we’re less afraid of another flop and more eager to try again.

Being a good friend to ourselves makes us stronger, not weaker.

Most of us don’t grow up internalizing that weakness deserves understanding. To me, the language in Kristin Neff’s self-compassion meditations initially feels so uncomfortable, bothersome even, that I’m fighting back with cynical thoughts. My inner hatemonger is rebelling. Long live the wusses, suckers, if that’s what you want. But I have to be better. I can’t live with the shame of being insufficient. What’s to become of me if I start telling myself that it’s ok to eat a whole bag of Hershey Kisses in one sitting?

But slowly, I’m starting to realize: Being kind to myself doesn’t mean I deserve more candy. Self-compassion is not about short-term comfort but about supporting and protecting myself in view of my long-term wellbeing. The more I practice and break up automated thought patterns, the better I hear what my Friendly Me has to say. Suddenly I’m quite grieved about how bloody nasty I’m used to treating myself. So much so that I start to trash myself because I fail at not trashing myself. Sneaky troll. The way to get out of that trap, says Neff, is reminding ourselves that we might have learned our own verbal abuse to protect us from criticism from the outside. Our nasty inner voice just wants to point out possible dangers; it just wants to help.

It’s not doing a very good job. But luckily, there are better candidates. According to Neff, the human brain is programmed to be compassionate — there lives a friendly creature in all of us. We just might not be letting it get a word in very often.

So, thank you, dear inner troll, for caring about me. Would you maybe want to rest your dead tired voice a bit while I tune it to a warmer frequency? There’s a chance I’m not that much of an idiot after all.

How good of a friend are you to yourself? Take Dr. Kristin Neff’s self-compassion test here.