We can be sources of joy, comfort, and connection. We can bring people closer to us. We can be successful at work, in friendships, dates, relationships, intimacy, or even in achieving better health.
But that is only part of the picture. We can also hurt other people, frustrate them, or push them away. We can behave in ways that make it less likely we will get what we want, failing to connect or thrive.
Is it us, or is it them? Are we doing something wrong?
There was a time when these questions seemed simpler. Parental figures told us what was right and wrong, good and bad, what we should and should not do. As we grew up, things became increasingly complicated.
What is right or wrong depends on much more than just the moral guidance of a parent. On one hand, there are social expectations, rules, laws, and codes of conduct that we are all supposed to follow. On the other hand, some expectations are subjective, and two reasonable people can disagree on what is right or wrong in a given situation.
Furthermore, it is not simply a matter of right or wrong in terms of moral value. It is also a matter of how we lead the lives we believe we should lead. Do we need to become better partners, better parents, better professionals, better friends, or better lovers? Or are we already good enough? How are others getting ahead while we are not?
Things are complicated, and so much does not depend on us. But who is going to tell us about our share in what happens?
How Do We Know Ourselves?
Self-awareness is not a simple, objective recollection of what has happened to us, nor is it a compilation of what other people have told us about ourselves. Our identity carries meaning to us, but also to others.
We can be good or bad. Kind or unkind. Honest or dishonest. Successful or a failure. Competent or incompetent. Likable or unlikable. Lovable or unlovable. A good partner or a bad one. A good kisser or a bad kisser…
Perceiving ourselves accurately is no easy task. If we were unkind once, does that make us an unkind person? Maybe we perceive ourselves as very kind people who never harbor a negative thought, yet those around us have a completely different view. Maybe we perceive ourselves as kind because we genuinely want to be kind—but is intention enough?
The conflict between who we actually are, who we think we are, and the ideals of who we should be is a complex one.
Does Relentless Criticism Work?
Since we are not the most objective judges of ourselves, it may feel tempting to think that we need to be completely open to any feedback from the outside world. What do you think of me? Is this the right way to go?
The problem is that other people are not neutral or disinterested observers. Their reactions and judgments may reflect their own internal conflicts, projections, needs, interests, and limitations as much as they reflect anything about us.
Many children learn this in a painful way. Overly critical parents who are never satisfied subject them to relentless criticism. Bullies at school then appear to confirm what they have already heard at home. After a lifetime of criticism, these children may grow up to become their own worst critics.
People who have lived through abusive or highly critical relationships learn something similar. Surviving the relationship may have required accepting criticism, taking the blame, and believing that somehow everything was their fault.
Placing ourselves at the mercy of others' perceptions does not lead to accurate self-awareness. Someone who has spent years being criticized may become keenly aware of everything that is supposedly wrong with them while losing touch with an accurate reflection of who they truly are.
At times, adopting the identity of the person who is always blamed—or always victimized—can itself prevent further self-knowledge.
We all know people who take criticism harshly, immediately internalizing and compounding it. We may feel that we can never give them honest feedback because we are afraid of hurting them.
Ultimately, self-discovery cannot simply consist of finding another parental figure who will finally tell us correctly what is good or bad about us, what is wrong with us, or who we ought to become.
Can We Just Ignore Reality?
If others do not always give us objective evaluations, why not hold tightly to who we believe we are?
We can cling to our intentions, our feelings, and our ideal understanding of ourselves while rejecting any information that conflicts with that image. We know we are kind because we regard ourselves as kind. We know we are reasonable because we regard ourselves as reasonable. If another person experiences us differently, we assume the problem is theirs.
We all know a person who is convinced they are exceptionally nice, positive, reasonable, or morally correct while repeatedly behaving in remarkably negative or even cruel ways.
If you point out the conflict between their self-image and their actual behavior, they swiftly defend themselves: You are being negative. You are angry. You are mean. You are the problem. The goodness remains with them; the badness is projected elsewhere…
This is just one example of the various defense mechanisms that allow us to preserve a distorted view of ourselves. We go to great lengths to maintain contact with an ideal version of ourselves while losing touch with anything that contradicts it. We deny, we project, we rationalize…
This happens at an individual level, but it also occurs between groups. Many conflicts rely on the idea that goodness belongs exclusively to one's own group, while cruelty, aggression, irrationality, and moral failure belong entirely to the outside group. This makes dehumanization effortless. Entire groups are perceived as homogeneous, threatening, or less human. Severe harm can then be justified by people who continue to experience themselves as fundamentally good and reasonable.
Things are not necessarily easier in less morally charged contexts. Some people hold on to the belief that they are doing everything right in their dating lives, relationships, or careers, even as failures accumulate.
Even if it seems that some people live entirely in their heads and ignore reality as they see fit, there are often consequences. People may withdraw from us, abandon relationships, or stop attempting to connect. Our relational habits can cost us friendships and intimacy. At work, colleagues may disengage or push back.
Somewhere in Between
Our self-awareness can sit between two opposite extremes.
At one extreme, we are entirely permeable to external input. We actively seek validation, searching for someone who will finally tell us what is good or bad about us, what we are doing wrong, or how to become our "true selves."
At the other extreme, we shield ourselves from external feedback. We ignore it, reject it, or defend against it, seeing nothing wrong or changeable in ourselves.
Neither extreme provides accurate self-awareness. What matters is where we position ourselves between them.
Can we occupy a space where we remain connected to our own thoughts, feelings, desires, intentions, and experiences, while remaining open enough that another person’s experience of us can actually reach us?
Somewhere between relentless acceptance and active deflection lies a space where we can truly reflect on who we are. This at times may require challenging views that seem to have crystallized long ago, and being open to the fact that we are more complex than we think. We may “change” depending on the context and the people we interact with.
Self-discovery is a journey. Having someone rob us of that process is a genuine loss, which is why it is important that the process remains ours.
It is not always a pleasant journey. Making contact with the unlikable parts of ourselves is difficult. It can challenge us to the core, especially when we are guided by ideals of absolute goodness or badness.
It requires taking a step back to be curious about who we are, not just the one version we cling to. It asks us to be flexible enough to see how different parts of ourselves show up in various situations and with different people, and to understand how we became who we are.
It requires time and space to reflect, giving ourselves permission to feel the full palette of our emotions, and accepting that we can succeed and fail, be right and wrong, hurt others and be hurt ourselves. We may not have all the answers at any given moment. Some answers are not yet with us.
It requires time and space to reflect on who we want to be in our lives and in our relationships with others. To preserve a space where we can hold on to our identity, yet still change over time to live lives that align better with who we want to be.
In the end, seeing and changing what we bring to the table requires us to stay curious, to take responsibility, and to hold both our light and our shadows. Through that balance, we can all keep growing.
Helder Araujo MD PhD
