The Bag of "I'm Nots"
When we’re little, we think we can do just about anything. Have you ever seen a toddler burst into song in the middle of ShopRite, completely unabashed? Or bust a dance move on the Jumbotron at a sports event? How about the way babies kiss their reflection in the mirror? The world is full of endless possibilities, and we are unstoppable!
But then, something happens. An aunt tells you, “You’re not a good singer.” A teacher tells you that you can’t draw. Maybe mom tells you that your face is starting to break out. A hairdresser says your hair is thin. Poet and author Robert Bly writes about an invisible bag that we start to drag behind us, a bag full of the parts of us that other people don’t like. Into the bag goes “singer,” “artist,” “beautiful,” “great hair.” And so begins the life of “I’m not.” The teenager on the Jumbotron covers their face, does a meek wave instead of a grand dance. We begin to tell ourselves what we cannot do because of what we are not, because of the stuff in the bag. And boy, does that bag get heavy! It’s exhausting to carry around the burden of all the things we’ve learned we aren’t.
Sometime in elementary school, I had an art teacher who would hang her favorite projects on the walls in the art room and surrounding hallways. She always picked the same students’ art – and it was never mine. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how well I thought I did, my projects never got picked. So into the bag went “artist.” I spent the next twenty something years saying the words “I’m not that artistic” and joking that my artistic ability stopped at stick figures. Then a few years ago, those paint studios started popping up all over the place. I went to a paint party for a friend’s birthday, thinking what a waste of my money this monstrosity painting would be – after all, I’m not an artist, right? Then, much to my surprise, my painting actually came out pretty good! My friend even asked for my help making the bubbles on her painting. I thought, “This must be a fluke. It was an easy design. I’m not an artist!” About a year later, I got invited to another one, and much to my surprise, that one came out well too. So I kept going to these paint classes. When I completed my sand play training, we had to do a project about what we’d learned, and I decided to paint something. I decorated my house with paintings from these paint classes. Recently, a friend and I decided to go to a paint class to paint our own pets – Now there’s a real challenge! I knew for sure it’d come out horrible and my poor dog would be unrecognizable in the mess of paint – because you know, I’m not an artist. And as I sat there at the end, looking at what was clearly my dog on the canvas, I realized that maybe “artist” doesn’t belong in the bag. Sure, I’m no Van Gogh or Picasso – but I enjoy painting, and I enjoy the outcome. So … isn’t that … what an artist is???
So who gets to decide what goes in my invisible bag? For most of us, our bags are full of the things other people have said we aren’t. Our self-esteem is often based on the opinions of others – but not on our own opinions, our own likes and dislikes, or our own experiences. When self-esteem is based externally (on the opinions of others) it is fragile. If you’re self-conscious about your culinary skills and someone tells you that the dinner you made is terrible, it’s likely to shake your confidence quite a bit (“I’m not a good cook”). On the other hand, when self-esteem is based internally (on YOUR opinion), it’s hard to shake. If you KNOW you’re a good cook and happen to make a meal that bombs, you’re able to say, “Well that one sucked! That’s a recipe for the trash. Tomorrow’s dinner will be better!”
How do we begin to unpack the invisible bag? Sometimes it’s helpful to identify when things started filling the bag. It can be helpful to discuss with your therapist some of the childhood experiences, traumas, and interpretations that began filling your bag. Other times, we’re able to unpack somewhat independently. Let’s say you’ve been telling yourself that you’re not a good runner. How do we unpack running? Start by asking yourself how you define “runner.” Does that mean a 7-minute mile? Does that mean running every single day? Those sound like pretty hefty goals, especially for someone at the starting line of being a runner! What would happen if you defined “runner” as “someone who runs for fun”? What might happen if you stopped comparing yourself to Usain Bolt and just started running? My guess is that, little by little, you’d get better at running. Or hey! You may decide that you actually hate running and that can be in your bag on your own accord! (I’ve done this with math – I hate it, it can stay in the stupid bag and I’ll use my calculator, thank you very much!)
The way we define traits and characteristics has a massive impact on how we see ourselves and how we measure our success. The beauty of it all is that YOU define success when it comes to your personality and attributes. Sometimes, we get stuck when we fall into the trap of perfectionism and black and white thinking – that art teacher never said I wasn’t a good artist. There were simply other kids whose artwork was better than mine. What would happen if you stopped defining yourself by comparison to others? Just because someone else might be more skilled at something doesn’t diminish your skill. Perfectionism is a shame trap! (But that’s a topic for another day.) What do you want to unpack from your invisible bag? How can you start to redefine the words that have held you back and begin living life on your own terms?