The danger of expecations

Usually I would admit that I hold myself to too high of expectations for myself. I went to a therapist for a minute (I highly recommend it!) and the vast majority of our conversations centered on my self-perception of all the grand things I am and could do, and thus should do-- and the emotional repercussions of holding myself to grand things when shortcomings and reality come to bear. The long and short of it is that you feel bad.

I'd argue with the therapist that lowering expectations was not the answer. That you need a high bar even if you feel bad when you miss it. This isn't to say that I have a high bar in all areas of my life. I'm happy to call myself average in a number of areas of my life: messiness, handwriting, ability to care about local news, to name a few. But the height of ones expectations for a certain experience or performance or ability or whatever it is shouldn't necessarily stay where it subconsciously lands. Meaning, sometimes we place the bar too high- we expect too much out of ourselves or others. And sometimes it's too low. At least in my crazy brain, a big part of life is making sure I'm measuring myself against a bar that I find fair. Making sure I'm conscientious about how I'm counting myself successful.

I've entered mommyland now, which is, by all accounts, a highly emotional world of comparison, advice, and constant threat of regret or failure. And I'm articulating it now I guess as a reminder to myself to set my bar where I want it. No reason to push for things I don't actually find important. All the reason to push for things that I do find important, even if no one else does.

No comments: