Like many of us, I spend a lot of time on TikTok looking for videos that will either make me laugh or, you know, change my entire perception about life. About a week ago, I stumbled upon the latter. It was an interview with an older woman who explained that we tell lies to ourselves all the time. So, if we are going to lie to ourselves anyway, why not tell lies that make us feel good? That way, our bodies will get to work making those lies feel like a reality. Watching her, I felt a lightbulb go off in my brain. Is this the mental shift I’ve been looking for?
The fact that I am even entertaining this approach is a testament to my growth. I have spent most of my life terrified of lying to myself. If I thought a work meeting went well, I would temper my excitement by reminding myself I shouldn’t jump to any conclusions about the outcome. I would downplay my accomplishments so as not to give a better impression of myself than I thought was factually accurate. When I heard other people exaggerate to make themselves look or feel better, a sense of repulsion would flash through my system. Maybe I focused on the negative, but at least I wasn’t delusional. It felt morally wrong to be delusional and I didn’t want to be a “bad” person.
While my body is still resistant to the idea, my mind no longer thinks all delusion is inherently harmful. Who does it hurt for us to think good things about ourselves even if we can’t “prove” it or predict the future? Why is it bad for me to expect my writing career to continue even if I can’t know for a fact that it will? Assuming that it will makes me feel good and safe. Assuming that it won’t makes me stressed and sad. There is a third option, of course, which is to fully accept that I don’t know what will happen with my writing. But if leaning into the thought that it will go well makes me feel better in the moment, is it so wrong to give into that (new) impulse?
One of the things that makes me more comfortable with this premise is realizing that it’s not so much “lies” I want to tell myself, but predictions I choose to believe will come true. A lie implies it’s inherently untrue. A prediction or belief could go either way. This approach also feels easier to adapt to if I keep the “lies” broad instead of specific. It would ring too false to me to go around assuming I will one day create and executive produce a half-hour comedy even though that is my ultimate career goal. Instead, I feel more comfortable “lying” to myself that I will always be able to support myself as a writer (until I choose to retire to an island filled with dogs). In the past I would question this assumption. How do I know I will be able to continue to support myself writing? How do I know I won’t one day need to find another career? I don’t! But I am making the choice to believe it until it is proven otherwise.
Obviously, there are scenarios when lying to yourself can be harmful. You don’t want to waste ten years waiting for an ex to return because you have convinced yourself that they will show up at your door one day. I wouldn’t want to fall into financial trouble because I refuse to pivot in my career even though all signs suggest I need to. Our “lies” need to adapt to the information and reality around us. But when we have a lack of information or the future is unclear, why not believe the best instead of the worst?
I think so much of my hesitation about “delusional” thinking was wrapped up in the fallout of being wrong. I thought it would be emotionally harder to expect something to happen and then be disappointed versus preparing for disappointment from the get-go. I also worried that other people would judge me if they found any discrepancies in the way I talked about my life and the reality of it. I’m not really worried about either of those things anymore. For starters, expecting to be disappointed doesn’t mean you get to avoid it. And when it comes to other people, who cares what they think? People around us are wrong all the time and we don’t abandon them or kick them out of society. Anyone who cares about me would have been rooting for me to be right anyway.
I don’t believe in the power of manifesting. But I do believe that our attitude can influence both our internal world and those around us. I have a big book deadline coming up on December 1st. I have no idea if I will be done by then. Something else could happen that monopolizes my time. I could struggle to find enough material to meet my word count. I could get Covid! I do know, however, that if I tell myself that I will be done on time, I will feel less stressed. And feeling less stressed will help me focus and get the work done quicker. Plus, I won’t be miserable every moment of every day because I am living with the belief that I’m not going to meet my deadline. My plan isn’t to reject or avoid all uncertainty in my life. But if I am already lying to myself about something I can’t control, I might as well swap the lie out for a good one.
xoxo,
Allison
I feel like I fall into that same camp that you used to; I tell myself I’m protecting my feelings by not getting my hopes up but it definitely limits my optimism. I tell myself I’m being “realistic” because I’m someone who finds disappointment (particularly with myself) especially shattering. Even reading this and feeling it resonate with the awareness that more positivity would probably serve me better, I can’t fully convince myself I need to do something different. Thank you for this source of self-reflection. Looks like I’ve found this week’s topic for therapy!
Best of luck for the deadline! :)