Liking Yourself More

佚名/Anonymous

最近，我問坐在我車里的一位朋友：“你喜歡自己什么？”沉默了好幾分鐘后，她轉向我，滿臉歉意地說：“我想不出來。”

我十分詫異，她竟看不到自己的任何優點。她是一個多么聰明、美麗迷人而又富有同情心的姑娘啊！

我深知并非只有她一人如此，自尊心較低已成為女性最大的困擾。盡管上帝保證，他深愛著我們，但我們大多數人不能相信他是說的“我們”。就像憤世嫉俗的編輯對初出茅廬的記者說：“如果你媽媽說她愛你，那就去確認一下吧。”

我已做了十二年的記者，在采訪中我首先學到的是“錯進，錯出”。若你的初始資料有誤，那么你的結論也不會正確。同理，我們看待自己也是如此。如果我們缺乏自信心，那就像是正在操作有錯誤的數據資料。

事實上，通過許多種微妙的方式，我們的信心被文化、家庭、朋友甚至是精神生活共同削弱。我們成長的家庭缺乏肯定、鼓勵和尊重，而這些正是建立自信的基石。于是，我們發現，自己所處的世界推崇好萊塢二流明星和芭比娃娃的形象。我們的薪水、頭銜或者其他人為的標準讓我們臨時步入所謂的上流社會。但是，在內心深處，我們知道它并不真實，那通往真實的道路到底在哪里呢？

我有科技恐懼癥，我的哥哥對此卻極有天賦，他能讀懂操作手冊、修理東西、使用電腦。當我為了找工作第一次學習使用電腦時，我就堅信自己畢生都學不會它。

我痛苦而又清醒地記得，在電腦初學者培訓班里，老師讓我們“按任意鍵”，我徒勞地尋找“任意”鍵。那堂課終于結束后，我敢確信，自己連開車回家的能力都沒有了，第二天打扮得體地去上班就更不可能了，盡管事實上我擁有一棟房子，一個家庭，有一份工作，是一個專業的職員。

為什么會覺得如此丟臉呢？因為，與隔壁那個10歲的小女孩相比，她輕輕松松地在網上搜索期末成績，而我煞費苦心只是想上網。我不認為科技能力不是我的強項，而是得出自己很愚蠢這樣的結論，這是不正確的。

我們怎樣尊重別人，別人就會同樣地尊重我們。這就是不自信會暗示別人不要相信我們的原因。

多年來，我努力學習優雅地接受恭維。如果有人夸贊我的頭發，我會不予理會。我會說，我的發型讓我的臉看起來更胖了，或者我的頭發是灰色的。我真正想說的是，肯定會有不足之處，我不值得您稱道。我不喜歡自己，也不相信您會真正喜歡。問題是，如果我們一味貶低自己，最終別人也會相信我們所說的是對的。

有時候，錯誤的信息不是問題，而是我們對自己或處境要有一個正確的判斷。但是，別人一旦質疑，我們就屈從了。

幾年前，我發現自己左胸上長了一個葡萄狀的硬塊。我的醫生立刻安排了一次外科手術。一個月以后，當我繼續做定期體檢時，我感覺在那個地方又發現了相同的硬塊，我確定有。當我打電話給醫生，跟他討論他可能沒有切除掉硬塊時，他堅持說我錯了，不可能有一個硬塊，他說，因為他已經切除了。畢竟，他是醫生。

我掛掉電話，懷疑自己手的感覺。但是，對死亡的恐懼促使我鼓起勇氣，堅持讓他給我重新檢查，最后他極不情愿地指著那個地方承認了，是的，它好像還是原來的那個硬塊。他再次動外科手術切除了它。

對我來說，我必須坦白承認，我很愚蠢，因為我不懂技術方面的東西。但是，承認這個事實后，我的確是一個相當聰明的人。只是令我悲傷的是，不論多少課程或者培訓都不能完全解決我的技術缺陷。

另一個不正確的觀點是，我自認為很自私，因為我只生了一個孩子。事實上，生我女兒時我差點喪命，而且，我的丈夫不想收養。許多年來我依然覺得自己是個不稱職的母親，就像我應該相信上帝會在以后的分娩中保佑我一樣。

對我而言，現在我相信，一個孩子正是上帝的旨意。我拒絕受到譴責。不過，我對于自己不能實現滿屋子孩子的愿望，仍感到悲哀。

Recently I turned to a friend who was riding in my car and asked her， "What do you like about yourself？" We rode in silence for several minutes. Finally， she turned to me and said， apologetically， "I can't think of anything."

I was stunned. My friend is intelligent， charming， and compassionate—yet she couldn't see any of that.

I know she's not alone. Low self-esteem has become the number-one issue plaguing women.Despite God's assurance that he's absolutely crazy about us， most of us can't believe he means us.It's like the cynical editor who tells the cub reporter， "If your mother says she loves you， check it out."

I was a reporter for 12 years. One of the first things I learned in researching a story was "garbage in， garbage out".If your raw data is flawed， you end up with a faulty conclusion.The same is true with how we see ourselves.If we lack self-confidence， maybe we're working with flawed data.

The reality is， in hundreds of subtle ways， our culture， family， friends—even our thought life—conspire to undermine our confidence. We grow up in families void of affirmation， encouragement， and respect—the building blocks to self-confidence.Then we find ourselves smack dab in the middle of a world that lionizes Size Two Hollywood starlets and Barbie-doll figures.Our paycheck， our title， or some other artificial yardstick gives us temporary entree into the world of The Accepted.But in our hearts， we know it isn't real.How do we find our way to the truth？

I'm technophobia. My brother got all the genes required to understand operating manuals， to repair things， or to make sense of computers.When I first had to learn how to use a computer for my job， I was convinced it was the end of life as I knew it.

I remember with painful clarity a beginner's computer class where the instructor told us to "press any key". I searched in vain for the "any" key.By the end of the class， I was certain I wasn't smart enough to drive myself home， much less dress for work the next day.This was despite the fact that I managed a home， a family， a job， and a professional staff.

Why was it so humiliating？Because I compared myself to the 10-year-old girl next door who effortlessly surfed the Net to research her term papers while I struggled just to log on. Instead of simply concluding that technical prowess is not one of my strengths， I concluded I must be stupid.It was a lie.

People respect us as much as we respect ourselves. That's why the absence of self-confidence can telegraph to others not to believe in us.

For years I struggled to receive a compliment graciously. If someone complimented my hair， I'd discount it.I'd say my hairstyle made my face look fat or that my hair was a mousy color.What I really meant was， there must be some mistake.I'm not worth your regard.I don't like myself and can't really believe you do， either.The trouble is， if we persist in putting ourselves down， eventually people start to believe we're right.

Sometimes the problem isn't faulty data. We have an accurate picture of ourselves or a situation， but we capitulate the first time someone challenges us.

Several years ago， I discovered a grape-sized lump on my left breast. My doctor scheduled outpatient surgery right away.A month later， when I resumed periodic self-examination， I felt the same lump in the same hard-to-reach place.I was certain of it！When I called the doctor to suggest he might have missed the lump in question， he insisted I was wrong.It could not possibly be a lump， he said， because he had removed it.After all， he was the doctor.

I got off the phone， doubting what I'd felt with my own hand. But fear of lethal consequences gave me the courage to insist he re-examine me， at which point he reluctantly acknowledged that， yes， it did seem to be the original lump.He removed it in a second surgery.

In my case， I had to confess that I was stupid because I didn't understand technical things. Yet， even after acknowledging that I'm actually a pretty intelligent person， I still had to grieve the fact that no amount of classes or training would ever completely solve my technical ineptitude！

Another lie I believed about myself was that I'd been selfish for having only one child. The truth is， I nearly died giving birth to my daughter， and my husband didn't want to adopt.Still， I spent years feeling like an inferior mother—like I should have trusted God to protect me in subsequent childbirth.

I now believe that—in my case—one child was God's will for me. I've rejected the condemnation.Nevertheless， I had to grieve that I'd never have the houseful of children I'd always wanted.