All my life, I’ve been a self-improvement junkie. Show me a seminar touting personal growth and it was like throwing raw meat to a ravenous lion. I’d hungrily pounce on it.
But then life went into lockdown, removing a myriad of distractions. That’s when I noticed something disturbing—how brutally critical I am of me. This wasn’t a new insight, of course, but I began to see how awful it felt.
So, I made a conscious decision. Rather than pushing myself to improve, I decided to practice Radical Self-Acceptance, loving myself, warts and all…especially the warts.
Don’t get me wrong. I still aspire to be better. But I’m finding a remarkable sense of freedom and well-being as I learn to fully embrace my shortcomings and my strengths, my achievements and my failures, without fear or false humility, without shame or recrimination.