It’s amazing what language can do. I’ve discovered over years of doing clinical psychology work and then coaching that sometimes a single word change can make the difference between strong fear, and mild anxiety. Or a “big fight” and a “simple discussion.”
For example, the Semantic Technique I learned while training with Dr. David Burns at Stanford University, is simple yet powerful, and only changes one word. With all those toxic rules, you simply replace the word “should” with “prefer.”
“I should get 100% of the questions right” becomes, “I’d prefer to get 100% of the questions right.”
“I should have said something different” becomes, “I’d prefer to have said something different.”
This one is powerful. Feel free to begin using it now with the rules you uncovered that don’t serve you. We will do much more in Part II to dismantle those; this is just a simple technique you can use immediately.
Another simple word shift is between “taking care” of others versus “care-taking” others. What’s the difference? Taking care of others means being aware of other people and their needs, and considering these in your decisions. It comes from respecting others, and wanting to support them and maintain good relations.
Care-taking is a different story. In Merriam-Webster dictionary, it’s defined as:
1. The act of taking care of land or buildings while the owner is not there.
2. To give physical or emotional care to someone (such as a child, or old person, or someone who is sick).
Obviously, the second definition is more relevant in our discussion, but the first one also reveals something interesting. I’m taking care of someone’s land or buildings, and they’re not even there. Therefore, in that situation, I am entirely responsible. If their shit burns down while they’re gone, that’s 100% on me.
Similarly, in the second definition, notice the examples of people one might care-take. Children, the elderly, and the infirm. These people need certain kinds of help because they cannot do it themselves. Your grandmother might need someone to help lift her out of her wheelchair and into the bed because her legs are not strong enough to do so herself. My kids need me to help them understand and regulate their emotions because they don’t know how to yet. In these instances, care-taking is great. It’s needed.
However, when we’re living in a world where we’re entirely responsible for the feelings of everyone around us, we become constant care-takers. We are subconsciously assuming and treating others as if they are young children who cannot manage their own feelings. This misconception creates stress, burnout and an endless supply of bad guilt. It sets up unrealistic demands of how responsive you should be, and causes you to give more than you want to, and say “no” much less than you need to.
This urge to care-take can exist in all relationships, but it tends to be strongest in our dating and intimate relationships. This is because we like, love, or care about another person deeply, and what we say and do does affect them emotionally. This makes it next to impossible to be direct and honest if we have a strong habit of care-taking. We just couldn’t possibly hurt their feelings in any way.
“I couldn’t possibly tell him that I don’t want to keep seeing him. He’s so sweet and loving.”
“I just can’t break up with her. It’s going to break her heart, and I can’t do that to her. She can’t handle it.”
When clients in my groups say things like this, I often highlight the care-taking by exaggerating it. “You’re right. They probably can’t handle that. How could you do that to them? The only reasonable and honorable thing to do is to stay with her. Eventually you should marry her and have children.”
This often makes them laugh and smile, and breaks the care-taker trance. But our work is far from done. Even if they see it’s absurd, and that it’s in their best interest to break up, they feel oppressive amounts of guilt and waves of I’m-a-bad-person-ness.
I know this feeling well, and I know how overpowering it can feel. Once the guilt switch flips, it can feel like no matter what we say to ourselves, nothing can stop the onslaught. I remember one instance when I agreed to help Candace move. This was when we first began dating, and she was in the early stage of the divorce process. She was moving out of the home she shared with her ex-husband and into her own place.
Being the “good boyfriend,” I said I would help her move. When I got there, however, I was overwhelmed with a strong urge to leave. It was too much, too soon. Too much involvement in her relationship with her ex-husband, and I didn’t like it.
For the vast majority of my life, I would have felt this discomfort and stuffed it down. I would have followed my inner set of shoulds and been the nice guy. In this case: you should help your girlfriend move.
Fortunately, I’d been doing some of the work you’re doing right now. I was in a men’s group that was helping me see that noticing my inner reactions and taking care of myself are good things. They actually allow me to be supportive and loving in the long term.
In fact, I’ll never forget what one group member told me. His name was Allen and he was a former divorce attorney in his late sixties. He said, “Aziz, every time I saw a case where the wife had a new boyfriend, and he showed up to all our meetings, and was the real knight-in-shining-armor type, their relationship was over in a few months.”
Snap. His words struck me as true and I could see from the outside exactly why this would be the case. Too involved. Too pleasing. Too nice.
And so that sunny summer afternoon I told Candace, “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t think I can help you do this. It feels too involved. I think I’m going to leave and let you and your friends take care of it.”
She understood. Two of her friends looked at me as I shared this, and one said, “Oh...” Candace later told me this was because her friends liked me and were disappointed I wouldn’t be hanging out that afternoon. I, of course, didn’t interpret it that way. Here’s what my mind did:
“Oh...” = “Wow, what a selfish asshole you are. Your poor girlfriend is going through so much, leaving her home of ten years, and all she needs is some support and someone to help her pack up, but you are just going to leave because you feel uncomfortable. What a bad, selfish, bad, bad person you are. I look down upon you, sir.”
And that’s exactly how I felt driving away. Like a bad, bad person. Disrespectful and unworthy of love. At least that’s what my mind was telling me. But, at the same time, I knew something was different. Even though I was feeling badly, part of me knew this was good. I knew I was taking a step towards shedding the nice guy programming that had been controlling my life for decades. I knew I was onto something.
Here’s the thing. You are not responsible for other people’s feelings. They’re not incompetent children. They’re adults who can handle their own feelings. They can work through disappointment, hurt, anger, sadness, and upset. In fact, doing so will make them stronger and healthier in the long run. You cannot stop others from feeling all discomfort, or all pain. It is an impossible task, a fool’s errand.
You’ll learn exactly how to turn this new philosophy into a reality in the second part of this book. For now, watch your tendency and urge to care-give during the next few days and weeks. Pay attention to your discomfort around being honest or direct. Notice when you’re uncomfortable with someone having unpleasant feelings. And notice how much you avoid saying or doing things to make sure no one ever feels upset. Notice how much you manage, control, and construct what you say to preserve everyone’s feelings. You just might be surprised at how often and intensely this happens. The more you notice, the better, because awareness will set you free (combined with action of course).
One major source of guilt for many people is due to their religious and spiritual beliefs. In an attempt to guide us to being more generous, kind, loving, and godly people, we are taught how to be and how not to be. This can provide the foundation of a powerful moral compass and a deep sense of integrity. It can also create unobtainable standards that lead to a continual spring of inadequacy and guilt.
I was raised as a Muslim and went to Christian schools. Even though my family was not very religious, I was exposed to the teachings of the Old Testament, Jesus, and the prophet Mohammad (peace be upon him). The guidance in these teachings can be helpful, soothing, and healing.
However, it all depends on how it is taught and how we understand it. Just the other morning, I was listening to a preacher’s sermon. I enjoy reading and listening to teachings of all faiths and cultures, from Christian to Taoism to Lakota. In this sermon, the preacher was encouraging people to “be like Jesus.”
“In your lives, you must think and act like Jesus. Test every thought to make sure it’s obedient with Christ.” He went on to say, “Jesus is our standard. Ask yourself, ‘Would Jesus think this way. Would Jesus act this way? Would Jesus feel this way?’”
He then gave a description of what Jesus was like, “Jesus is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, meekness, and self-control. He is not envious or greedy, and does not harbor selfish ambition.”
So far so good, right? This seems to be guiding us towards being more loving, better humans. Except, what if you feel impatient? What if you binge on the chips and soda and don’t have self-control at the super bowl party? What if you feel bitter or secretly “harbor selfish ambition”?
While some people may be good at seeing these things in themselves, and then meeting them with love, compassion, and God’s forgiveness, that’s not what I’ve seen in most. Most people feel bad and guilty for having these flaws, weaknesses and imperfections. They harbor deep self-loathing and feel guilty on a daily basis for continually falling short.
The unconscious logic goes something like this: If I think, feel, or act in a wicked way, then I should be punished. I will criticize myself brutally, which will make me feel unlovable and worthless, which will motivate me to “try harder” and “do better.”
While it may seem effective at first glance, and indeed may be how you were raised as a child, this doesn’t lead to the best results. Increased self-criticism and self-hatred leads to more shame, which actually leads to more behavior that is negative. Because when you feel terrible inside, how loving are you with others? When you feel terrible inside, how much self-control do you have to eat better and take care of yourself?
My goal here is not to challenge your faith or religious convictions. My goal here is to help you out of guilt, into forgiveness and ease with yourself. If you’re a Christian, or a Muslim, or Jew, or anything else, my goal is to make you a happier, more loving, better one. The key is to release this oppressive layer of guilt. It’s not making you a better person; it’s not bringing you closer to God or your brothers and sisters on this planet. It’s isolating and destroying you. And it’s time for a change in how you treat yourself.