"Who's a good girl?"
They say the way we talk to our pets is the way we wish other people would speak to us; that the things we say to our fuzzy (and sometimes not-so-fuzzy) companions are the things we most want to hear from the people we love. (They also say that talking to your pets is a sign of intelligence).
Recently I've noticed an odd shift in my self-talk, and it seems to have materialized spontaneously, without a conscious effort to change anything (other than generally trying to treat myself the way I would treat anyone else I love).
I woke up a few days ago and a thought popped into my head, unsolicited and unprompted, that I had sleepily called myself a "good girl" just for having woken up and rolled over and pulled the curtain open to let the sun in. Far from an achievement, but I thought about it for a few minutes with the sun streaming in and wondered (aloud to the cat...because she's my best friend) when I ever heard that phrase growing up. I couldn't put my finger on a specific instance. Caring deeply about the answer, she heaved a heavy kitty sigh and headed in the direction of her (tragically empty) food bowl to await her breakfast.
Don't get me wrong, I wasn't unloved; I received plenty of praise for my notable accomplishments (good grades, dancing/acting/singing performances, graduations), but being the younger sibling to a "squeaky wheel", the only praise I received for ordinary behavior was for being "the easy child". I didn't ask for much, I didn't complain often, I was skilled at entertaining myself.
I often feel adrift in everyday life and swamped with indecision when I don't have concrete plans and I think it's because with the exception of negative reinforcement (hurting someone's feelings, feeling unhealthy, underperforming at work) there isn't a whole lot of guidance I've been given on how to be a "good girl". For my cat, the bar is admittedly pretty low: be fluffy, catch the occasional mouse, snuggle, stay out from underfoot while I'm cooking, stay off the counters, and dammit stop picking the sofa! And even when she does ruin the corner of another boxspring, I still tell her she's a good girl, because she does her best (I think...).
I'm honestly not sure where I've even set the bar for myself, or what expectations I should be meeting of the people in my life. I do know that when someone says "good girl" to me, even completely sarcastically, I feel good. I'm sure I should feel irritation at the condescension and at times I've played along that way in public, but if I'm really honest with myself, there's a part of me inside that preens like a parakeet hearing "who's a pretty birdy?"
I am - I'm the pretty birdy, and that's enough for me today.
Sometimes success just feels like letting the sun in.
How do you tell yourself you've done a good job? How do you show yourself love? Am I completely alone on the crazy train here?
Get at me in the comments!