Practicing Compassion for Ourselves

With tears streaming down her face, my client said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be free of this way of being, of feeling like no one cares about me.” I sat still as she shared her despair, listening with compassion and deep faith. She talked about how, as she was growing up, her parents were not fully present with her, how their way of showing affection was through invalidation and a steady stream of criticism. She carried their voices within , and the inner critic drowned out the voice of love that lives within all of us.

Her story was one with which I was all too familiar.

As a trauma-informed psychotherapist, I have the honor and privilege of holding sacred space for my clients as they share their stories of pain and triumph, suffering and hard-won joy. But they also tell me of the persistent inner critic who talks incessantly, drowning out the whispers of God’s love. I was reminded of my own journey towards healing when I sat with Zoe and witnessed her as she courageously shared her dealings with the inner critic.

Growing up in my own family, I strove for perfection to escape the heavy weight of shame gifted to me by my parents’ erratic, abusive, and bewildering behavior. Perfectionism, performance, and impression management (i.e. looking good for the outside world) was required in their household. I knew of no other way to survive, so I became the star performer and musician, beloved by my teachers but forgotten at home. And because I was forbidden to attend church growing up, I knew of no gods other than my own parents.

God came to my rescue during college, when I attended a local Christian university, made solid Christian friendships, and received dynamic instruction from a feisty Episcopalian priest and professor named Father Bob. He was one of the first people in my life who encouraged me to believe that I am worthy of God just as I am. His warm, genuine interest in my life and desire for faith showed me another way of living in the world, one centered on openness, friendliness, and curiosity. Shortly after my twentieth birthday, I became a Christian, and my world changed: I always knew my way back home was into God’s loving arms. 

Dear reader, God does not want us to live under the heavy weight of perfectionism, of constantly beating ourselves up for our mistakes and not living up to noble yet unrealistic expectations imposed by others or ourselves. No, God calls us to walk beside streams of living water and gives us times to stop and rest which guides us forward in love and purpose (Psalm 23:1-3). But how do we rest when we hear the inner critic damning us so relentlessly? You might be surprised at the answer: we welcome them.

Accepting our inner critic and the strong emotions generated by their words gives us the pause God longs for us to have so the Spirit can work in our midst. “Whatever we resist persists,” as my counseling professors would often remind us greenhorn counseling students, so having an open and accepting stance towards our inner critic is needed in order for us to heal. Having a warm, friendly, and welcoming attitude towards our painful emotions allows them space to rise and pass away, like tumultuous waves crashing at the ocean shore. As we allow the emotions to pass away, we can speak to ourselves the way God speaks to us—with great love and tenderness (John 10:27).

I imagined God was there with me and my client as we worked through a compassion practice, focusing her attention on her breath. Tears streamed down her face during the meditation, and she admitted the inner critic was loud inside her mind, but she was able to relax and found something amazing: a place of deep peace within herself. She entered into kairos time, a sense of eternity and resting in the heart of God. I had tears in my eyes by the end of her session, and we simply sat quietly together, marveling at the powerful experience.

I believe this place is inside all of us, which means you, too, have the core of God residing in you, a place of deep peace. When we sit in stillness and practice acceptance of our inner critic, we find the capacity to embrace ourselves as God already holds, welcomes, and enfolds us in His marvelous love. We must take time to practice giving ourselves the compassion we deserve, because God desires that we care for these glorious, often tired, and beloved bodies. After all, the Christian life is an embodied life, built on faith that God lives in each one of us, loving us into wholeness (John 10: 30).

As I continue in my work as a trauma-informed therapist, I’m encouraged to keep practicing compassion. Brené Brown writes, “Compassion is not a virtue—it is a commitment. It’s not something we have or don’t have—it’s something we choose to practice.”^[1] Compassion training is a discipline for all of us who follow Christ, a discipline we can all cultivate as we sit with others in deep pain, including ourselves, and extend the mercy God so generously offers us.

We practice compassion when we say tender things like, “I’m sorry you’re going through that” to our friends, family, and neighbors who bravely share their pain with us. Equally important, we practice Christ’s compassion when we offer ourselves God’s grace when we touch our own emotions with kindness. We are, after all, the beautiful body of Christ, filled with the power to make these bodies into a living offering of love to a hurting and beautiful world in need.

^[1]  Brené Brown, I Thought It Was Just Me (But It Isn’t) (New York: Avery, 2008), xxvi.

Jenn Zatopek is a recovering perfectionist, writer, and psychotherapist from Texas. Her work has been featured in magazines such as FATHOM, Ruminate, SheLoves Magazine, and The Glorious Table. Jenn studied theology at Brite Divinity School. When not writing, you can find her planting flowers and herbs in her tiny porch garden. Find her at theholyabsurd.com and on social media at @theholyabsurd.

Photograph © Mohammad Asadi used with permission