The Often-Overlooked Power of Self-Compassion
And the painful paradox: It can be so hard to come by
Photo by Alexei Maridashvili on Unsplash
Maybe you know the pain of how our modern life can make us feel fragmented and separated from our true Selves. So many things about our world fail to meet the deepest needs of our psyche: The need for a sense of real connection and belonging, the need to be able to make sense of how things work, the need to feel like our voices and our stories matter, the need to feel like we have a clear purpose, the need to feel like our life is manageable. Add to this the extra difficulties for someone who is highly sensitive and who gets easily over-stimulated and overwhelmed. Add any traumatic experiences that further overwhelmed us and shook us to the core.
Any combination of these many challenges can lead to addictions, self-sabotage, anxiety, depression, perfectionism, isolation, mysterious chronic illnesses, eating disorders – the list goes on. Me? I dealt with most of them, and also fell into an eating disorder that alienated me from my body and my sense of true Self, and changed the landscape of my body forever. But I’ve found my way back home to my Self and to my body, and I help others find their own unique ways home, too.
In my 20 years as a therapist, health/wellness coach, and seeker, what I’ve learned is that healing can’t untangle the deepest, messiest parts of us until we’ve started to tap into one fundamental thing - Self-compassion.
And I don’t mean we simply have to decide to start being kinder to ourselves. It’s not a matter of will. Here’s the paradox:
Self-compassion is crucial to real healing, but it can feel impossible to achieve.
For too many of us, our lives in today’s world erode our sense of worthiness and lovability. And then the strategies we adopt when seeking comfort or control (such as addictions or eating disorders) rupture our inner relationship with the true self so badly that it takes some time to repair the ties and rebuild self-trust. But eventually, this reconciliation can happen.
It will often be a slow, continual process where we make small shifts in how we talk to ourselves, how we listen to ourselves, and how we respond to our true needs. It’s a moment-by-moment-by-moment ever evolving relationship, and in the very beginning it might take some faith to believe we’re really going to find any lasting self-love.
We all know there are countless books and blogs and newsletters out there on every self-help topic imaginable. (I’ve read A LOT of them. And oh, the podcasts!) Most are full of very important gems of wisdom. But for those of us with the deepest wounds, we keep finding that no matter how right it all sounds, we just can’t integrate it, can’t put it into action…
Because self-compassion has to come first. And it’s HARD.
So if you’ve only felt worse when you’re told you need to have more self-compassion or self-love, you are not alone! If you sometimes feel like you’re just too broken for anything like that to work, you’re not alone.
My own sense of brokenness and fragility kept me stuck for a long time. When I tried to practice meditation or mindfulness, being present with myself and observing all my thoughts and feelings non-judgmentally, I was often overcome by anxiety. It was all too much to simply observe with neutrality, because I had no real tools to comfort myself internally. Does this sound familiar?
The shifts came when, little by little, I was finally able to start to change my internal dialogue. I started to talk to myself the way I so deeply longed to be spoken to, with tenderness and kindness. I started to work on not berating myself for my imperfections. I started to work on forgiveness, and on allowing myself to feel what I was feeling and to need what I needed.
I know I’d heard about self-compassion many times before then, but it took a very long time to sink in. For too long, I couldn’t even fathom what it might mean.
Things did not start to shift until I was able to cultivate a wise internal voice that kept saying, “You are not broken. Stuck, perhaps. Bruised and battered. Split into many pieces, which want different things and seem at constant war with each other. That may be true. And still, you are not broken. You are not the things that have happened to you. You are not the insults you fear people might think about you. You are not the mistakes that you’ve made. You are not the regrets, the failures, the loss, or the pain. There is a love inside you that can embrace all of those things. ‘Even this?!’ you ask. Yes, even that.”
No matter who you are, it’s a guarantee that at your core, there is a spark of love.
Call it what you will. I like “basic goodness” but it’s also your authentic Self, God, soul, spirit, Buddha nature, light, stardust, etc. It’s all the same thing, isn’t it? And we all have it, no matter what’s happened to us, and despite all the regrets we might carry.
It’s not about “falling in love with yourself” or banishing your inner critic. It’s much less dramatic than that. And yet, it is truly profound what kinds of transformation are possible when you’re able to stop living at odds with yourself.
Every tiny moment in which, instead of self-criticism, you’re able to stay with yourself and offer a bit of kindness, is a major win. And no matter who you are, it is possible. I hope you’ll keep tuning into this Basic Goodness newsletter, where I share simple, practical tools that make it possible to live peacefully, even joyfully, with who you are. Don’t worry if none of the things you’ve tried before really worked! Here, we’ll break it all down into manageable pieces, and woven through every strategy is that golden thread of self-compassion.
So here’s a question to ask yourself:
Last time I was really hurting, what message was I longing to hear, and what would that voice sound like? (a cheerleader, a grandmother, a close friend, a mentor…?)
Photo by Jordan Whitt on Unsplash
Morgan,
You gave me exactly what I asked for—not the shiny piece, but the one that still holds weight.
When you wrote “Self-compassion is crucial to real healing, but it can feel impossible to achieve,” I didn’t just understand it—I remembered how I used to flinch at the idea. Compassion wasn’t accessible to me either, not for a long time. I carried shame so thick it blurred everything. Guilt told me I was a burden. I adapted, performed, functioned. And all the while, the real self got exiled.
You spoke of how even mindfulness was too much at first. I knew that place. I started there, too—then came loving-kindness, and that was a long, sharp unfolding.
And it made space. And eventually, yes, Kristin Neff entered my world too. Her words weren’t a fix, but they opened a door—to enoughness, to stillness, to staying.
That’s when my Canyon began. I didn’t call it that back then. It was just the place I entered when I stopped running. Now it’s evolving into a model for healing—but at the beginning, it was simply the only place left where I could meet myself without turning away.
So when you say, “You are not broken. Stuck, perhaps…”—I know the cost of learning that. And I know the tenderness it takes to say it out loud for others.
You didn’t write this to inspire. You wrote it to tell the truth. And you didn’t pretend it’s easy. You made space for the impossibility, the exhaustion, the ache of being told to love yourself when you’ve never had the tools to even stay.
That’s where your piece lives—in the in-between, the not-yet, the place where healing begins not with transformation but with presence.
You weren’t trying to fix anyone. You stayed with the messy, honest middle. And that’s what made me trust every word.
Thank you for letting me read this. I see you. Not just the writer, but the person who lived this enough to say: Yes, even that.
xo Jay
This was beautiful and I always need reminders to be more self-compassionate. 💚