How to Love Your Inner Asshole

Ok, I know you were probably laughing and thinking, “No way” when you read the title - but it’s true - you can learn to love even the “negative” parts of yourself!

Do you have that internal voice that makes snide comments about yourself or other people? The voice that judges, compares, makes fun of, and finds fault easily?

That voice you hear inside your head (and no it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re crazy) is more common than you might think – most of us have an internalized critical asshole part. Some are just louder than others.

No matter how spiritual, compassionate, or kind we may be, sometimes we are assholes.

And then we may come down on ourselves for the internally derisive comment we just made. “I can’t believe I thought that. I’m such a dick,” you might say. Or perhaps something even worse. And then the guilt or shame sets in.

This can be especially true if you were raised in an environment - or absorbed messages from a culture -that taught you there was something inherently bad about having certain thoughts, feelings, needs, or reactions.

Our internal critical voices are shaped by what we've experienced - how parents or caregivers spoke to us and what they modeled, as well as messages we absorbed from relationships, communities, and the culture around us. (“Thanks, Mom,” as my daughter jokingly says.)

And these voices often developed for reasons - different parts may have learned that mistakes had consequences, that approval had to be earned, or that criticizing you first might somehow protect you from the criticism of others. They might push you toward perfection, compare you to other people, or point out every possible flaw before anyone else gets the chance.

When we understand that voice in the context in which it developed, something can begin to shift. We can recognize it as a part of us rather than simply accepting what it says as truth. That doesn't mean we have to agree with it or let it determine how we treat ourselves or other people - it means we can begin to relate to it with more curiosity - and perhaps even compassion.

So what might this look like in everyday life?

Let's say you forget to pay your credit card bill, get a late fee, and immediately get angry with yourself for spacing out (yet again).

You hear the voice: “I'm such an idiot.”

Instead of automatically believing it - or getting angry with yourself for having such a harsh thought - you might just notice: Oh, there's that rude voice again.

Then get curious about what else is happening. Maybe shame comes up. Maybe you notice sensations in the body - a flush of heat? A faster pulse? Tightness or pressure in your chest, gut, or shoulders? Maybe you notice an urge to hide, fix the mistake immediately, defend yourself, or keep criticizing yourself.

You don't have to follow a particular sequence. Thoughts, emotions, sensations, and impulses can arise together and influence one another. The practice is simply to notice what's happening without immediately getting pulled into the familiar patterned reactivity.

Another way I’ve been describing it lately is to imagine your family at the Thanksgiving dinner table and everyone’s talking – your bitchy aunt, your drunk, obnoxious uncle and all the rest of the crazies that make up your family are present.

You hear their comments, but you don't have to argue or agree with them, and you don't have to let them take over the conversation. You can just let them be.

Remembering that they each have their own histories, experiences, and points of view can help you understand where they're coming from, and why - but it doesn't necessarily mean agreeing with what they say.

Our internal parts can be a little like that family gathering. The critical one gets a seat at the table, too. You can listen to what it has to say, become curious about where it came from and what it may be trying to do, and perhaps begin to have some compassion for it.

This doesn't mean you have to let it run the show, though - it's more recognizing that this, too, is part of you - a part shaped by its own history and experience that doesn't need to be exiled because you don't like what it has to say. And over time, you may even find that you can have love for that part of yourself.

When we spend less energy fighting, judging, or trying to get rid of these parts of ourselves, some of that energy becomes available for other things. And perhaps integration begins right there: making room at the table for more of who we are, without requiring every part of us to behave in the way we think they should.