Tag Archives: Self-Compassion

a person making a letter with a cup of smoking coffee nearby

#72 Pages from a Moleskine 2: The cost and reward of setting boundaries

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Paris, January 1st, 2024

I’m starting to understand now what my mother told me yesterday, or at least I’m coming up with my own interpretation of the message in her words.

To feel a mix of egoism, hypocrisy, and guilt when you put yourself first—when you set healthy boundaries and stand up for yourself—is normal. On the other hand, you may feel a sense of pride, joy, and self-worth for finally being able to protect yourself independently.

Everything comes at a cost, and for everything there is a reward.

We need to learn to see both aspects in every sphere of life. Appreciation for life, a sense of belonging to the collective, and finding our place on this planet also come from the realization and acceptance of this duality.

Through victimization, we can only wander around in pain, loneliness, and resentment.

There is a fine line between caring about those we love and caring about ourselves, but the latter should always prevail, because the person we spend the most time with is ourselves. That’s the relationship we should cherish the most.

That doesn’t mean mistreating or disregarding others. It means nurturing self-compassion above all else to protect ourselves during the most painful moments that we will inevitably encounter throughout our lifetime.

It may seem counterintuitive, but part of the process that brings this awareness, deep understanding, and integration of these learnings is also letting go of the ego and the need for validation from others. It means knowing that we are enough, that we can lose anything and still be content as long as we don’t lose ourselves.

Ultimately, maturity is not about detachment from others, but about alignment with ourselves. When we are grounded in who we are, we stop negotiating our worth. From that place, relationships become choices—not dependencies—and solitude becomes presence, not absence.

#70 A proper winter, and an improper amount of complaining

After last Christmas, temperatures here in Berlin dropped and never really rose again. Daily snow, frozen lakes, and icy streets turned into routine. So did people going to the hospital with broken bones after slipping on ice. Public transportation became a nightmare—if not absolute s***.

People’s faces shifted from the usual grumpiness, the don’t-look-at-me attitude, to full-on I’m-going-to-kill-someone expressions. Many fled Germany because, for them, it was “too much to handle,” life-threatening even. They went somewhere sunny to stay alive.

I have to admit that, for a while, I was starting to get dragged into this collective incapacity to live through winter (and I am freaking Brazilian-Italian!). But then I thought: fuck this mentality. Let me appreciate the beauty of this time of year.

I usually enjoy life the most when I’m on my own—it’s just how I am, and I love that about myself. It’s one of my biggest strengths. That was the first breakthrough that helped me reconsider the season. I could finally enjoy my alone time even more, thanks to the slowness, the quietness, and the stillness winter brings.

The second breakthrough came when I stopped complaining to myself.

Social complaining in Germany is unavoidable—it’s almost a way of socializing—so in that sense I go along with conversations. When I’m on my own, though, I actively avoid it. It’s not a New Year’s resolution or anything like that; I just try to catch myself early when I fall into that pattern.

It took me a while to fully understand what scientists have been repeating for years, but when I complain alone, I reinforce a story in my head—and that’s not good (nicht gut!). I spiral into deeply depressing thoughts and start feeling like I’m drowning in them.

So I made a real effort to internally flip the narrative. Suddenly, what had been a dark, shitty day turned into a cozy one, with dimmed lights and the freedom to do whatever I wanted—or nothing at all. Especially my alone time turned into bliss. To be fair, it has always been blissful for me to spend time alone. I find the opposite incredibily difficult. But this winter, I’ve been slowing down even more.

There was a third breakthrough… there was one. But I forgot it.

To close, I’ll repeat one of the mantras that comes back often in my writing: self-compassion, self-compassion, self-compassion is the key. It doesn’t matter if you’re surrounded by amazing people—if you’re shitty toward yourself, you’re creating the conditions to rot in misery. And that’s not what we want.

We want self-compassion. Not denial. Not lying to oneself. Just appreciating our existence as it is. Easier said than done—it’s a life-long quest for all of us. But practice makes perfect.