Next Step: Fold In The Cheese

If you haven’t read part 1, it’s a good idea to go back and do that first. Or at least skim it. We covered why this wheel is useful for mapping the self and got into the nitty gritty details of pages 1-4. Now in part 2, we’ll finish out the exercise by walking in-depth through pages 5-6 of the worksheet you can see in the photos (which you can get a copy of by subscribing).

Basically, we’re folding in the cheese. Which I cannot describe to you, all I can do is show you.

Quick reminder before we get started: the point of this project for me is the actual doing of the exercises, in full, so I’m not going to summarize or provide only snippets of my process. It’s aaaallll here.

Please feel free to skip around and only read what calls out to you! I’ve tried to make it very scannable so you can pick and choose what to partake of.

The Most Obvious Self

First, we’re going to take a look at which aspects are most obvious, or that we’re most aware of, in day-to-day life. Taking time to do this can be a reality check. Are we living out our truest selves in the every day? Or are they at odds? When I go back through my reflections on pages 1-4, I find a mixed bag. The three I am most aware of in my regular daily life are: formal education, body size, and wealth.

Formal Education

My counseling education is part of my daily life in two major ways: 1) as a skill set that I use both at work and at home, and 2) as a huge part of my professional identity. First, becoming a counselor drastically remodeled my internal world, preparing me to interact ethically and effectively with students and, at the same time, changing the way I show up in all my relationships outside of work. The skills I learned, I use every day, all day long. They’re part of me now, and in a way I’m very aware of. Secondly, I am now “the counselor” when I’m at school or “a school counselor” whenever I’m meeting new people, and it’s a label I use often and feel honored to claim.

My education is directly related to my current job, which I LOVE. Skip this section if you’re tired of reading me go on about school counseling being special and awesome.

It’s become this really cool cause-and-effect boomerang—becoming a counselor helped make me who I am today, and because I’m a counselor now I’m constantly inspired to live up to that title. So I keep working to grow into my best self, then I become a more thorough or consistent counselor, and then I’m challenged to grow in another way. It’s the best loop I could ever get stuck in, and I’m grateful. Okay, I’ll move on now 😉

Body Size

This one I’m aware of in a less positive, wholesome way. I feel a near constant tug-of-war within me, to “be smaller” but also to resist unhealthy body ideals perpetuated by media and a culture infused with patriarchy. The first thought is whatever was wired into me before I could choose, the second is what I choose. But they’re both there. My body size IS part of me, because I am my body. I’m also more than my body, and so its size should not be so important.

“The first thought is whatever was wired into me before I could choose, the second is what I choose.“

I do not think my body size is part of who I really am, but it is likely a pretty big part of how I’m perceived by others. When they picture “Me,” they’re picturing how I look on the outside. That’s actually kind of weird to think about, and I’m trying to let that thought settle in.

At 5’8′ tall and weighing in at about 190lbs, my BMI is 28.9. This is “overweight” according to whomever decided BMI was boss. Between that and my height, I’ve felt on the larger side since as long as I can remember. I’m sharing exact numbers not to validate them or create an opportunity for comparison, but for two reasons: 1) to demonstrate how out of touch it feels to quantify, label, restrict ourselves in this way and 2) to give you a more accurate idea of where I fall within the range of body shapes and sizes so that you can imagine how that might feel, which makes the rest of my thoughts make more sense.

I accepted in my 20s that I’m a mesomorph (thank you, ex-husband, who was very well-studied on all things fitness and body type), which basically means I’m always going to weigh more than I look like I weigh. Muscle builds naturally along my strong, long bones and my body is excellent at storing up fat in case of emergency or famine. My frame would be to my advantage during an apocalyptic event, but not growing up through the heroin-chic 90’s or becoming a wife and mother within the Christian evangelical/patriarchal church. It feels as though I’ve always been aware—and automatically ashamed—of how much space I take up in the world.

Who taught me that I should “be small” and not take up too much space? Who taught me to feel ashamed of my mass and matter? I’ve no idea and they were very wrong, but moving my body through the world each day, feeling myself uncomfortable within her, is a near-constant reminder to me that I’m still unlearning those lessons.

Wealth

Wealth seems to be one of those things we’re most aware of when it’s lacking. I wish I didn’t fall into this cliche trap, but I do. A year ago, I hardly ever thought about money and did not appreciate my financial situation. I was simply unaware, dreaming of other things. This year, I’m constantly stressed about being late on bills and so I’m very aware of my financial situation on a daily basis.

It’s weird how morality can also start to feel attached to financial stability.

Like, if I’m struggling and I’m not currently financially secure… there must be something wrong with me, something lacking. I feel bad about myself. But, if I’m on top of everything with an emergency fund in place, then I feel like I should get a gold star and a pat on the head. From who?? Where does this expectation of punishment and/or reward come from?

But I also know that compared to the rest of the world, I’m extremely wealthy and well-off. We all are. If you’re reading this post, you are, because it means you have a screen and internet and power and margin within your attention/energy to be reading a post called “How to Map Your Social Identity, part 2.” Keeping this perspective is tough in the face of unpaid bills or competing expenses, I know. Maybe that can be my practice in this season of being hyper-aware of money stuff. Every time I’m tempted to stress, instead I take a moment to remember how lucky I am.

The Closest Self

Second, it’s time for some self-love. Identifying the aspects of my Self I hold most dear was an interesting exercise, because when I think of things I love about myself I’m usually thinking of roles I perform (mom, counselor, friend) or tasks I enjoy (gardener, hiker, writer). Those functions don’t really align with the aspects of self delineated on this wheel. Thinking of things I love about myself as a static being, just there, not performing in any way, was harder than I thought it would be. Here’s what I landed on: gender, skin color, and formal education.

Gender

This one is interesting because I’m sure people perceive me as a regular cis-woman, and I do feel powerfully feminine. But I also feel masculine, and sometimes in between. I love being okay with just being Me, whomever that is, a soul not containable within either of the two buckets usually labeled “male” or “female.” I’m not sure there is a perfect word for my gender expression, but I love it and hold it very close to my sense of Self.

I am nurturing, empathetic, emotional, and enjoy home-making. I am independent, a problem-solver, like to lift heavy things, and take responsibility seriously. I’m a caretaker and I’m a little wild. I’m others-oriented and (somewhere in there) also fiercely confident. I’m calm and curious.

I am full of both the feminine and the masculine, the way they come together within me is exactly right.

Skin Color

My skin feels like the one thing I have connecting me to my Native American and Mexican heritage. It’s not something I have to find or learn or feel insecure about claiming. It’s already mine. I love it, and carry it close to my heart.

Formal Education

My job might be my favorite thing about me, and I only have this job because of my degree. Becoming a school counselor has brought so much joy and healthy structure into my life. I’ve already written tons about it, so I’ll leave it at that.

Next up, last page!

Welcoming the Banished Self

We all have parts of ourselves we wish weren’t, aspects we struggle to accept. Maybe we try not to think about it, or maybe we ruminate—creating and recreating self-improvement plans, testifying on our own behalf to some imaginary jury, or explaining it away with a narrative so perfectly crafted even we start to believe it. These are the banished aspects of the self.

Instead of spending more precious mental and emotional energy reflecting on what I don’t like about my Self, I’m going to dedicate this part of the post to encouraging myself like I would someone I love.

Going live: here’s my self-compassion practice. It’s written from me, to me. Maybe to you too?

Housing

You will make it through this season. You weren’t foolish, you aren’t an idiot, you were not reaching beyond what you deserved like some entitled upstart. You took what seemed like a wise leap given the information you knew at the time, trusting in the best versions of people. You took a risk for your family. And it’s been rough. Things haven’t gone according to plan and people can’t be the best version of themselves all the time. You’ve learned some difficult lessons.

I’m so proud of you. You’ve landed in cynicism and then crawled back out. You’ve been jaded and apathetic, then buckled down and done the next right thing. This road has been so much longer than you imagined, but you’re walking it. One step at a time IS bringing you closer to your goal—your family in a home that can hold you all comfortably, a place you can host friends and neighbors, a property you can transform into a beautiful backdrop to a million precious memories—and every step is necessary. You’re learning a new level of patience. Every new hoop or weird task increases your eventual appreciation. You’re going to love and appreciate this house so much! You’ve made it 3 years. You CAN make it 3 more months (ish).

AND, your housing situation or status does not define you or limit your life, unless you let it. There is nothing to be embarrassed by in your situation. Nobody cares enough to judge you. Even in this tiny cottage, you can keep working to make everyone as comfortable as possible. That’s love. You can host your friends and family if you want to, because the feeling of oasis isn’t determined by square footage. You can plant, caretake, and invest in the beauty of your yard, even if you’ll be leaving it. Beauty doesn’t need to be permanent or yours to keep to be worth creating.

Your life doesn’t start once you finally move into that house. Your life is now. Yes, keep walking the long road, keep taking one step at a time towards your goals, keep being future-oriented (do your future self a favor!). But also, remember to live right now.

If you need to take a break here and come back later, that’s okay. This is a lot.

Wealth

Money is a construct. Bills and late payments are first world problems. I know this is stressful for you, and feeling like you’ve let someone/anyone down is excruciating, like in your body you feel it and want to crawl out of your skin. But in truth, you have everything you need and more. You are lucky to live within an evolved economy that allows for uninterrupted services, accepting your word that you’ll catch up as soon as you can. This is unearned credit (aka grace) not afforded to people in other parts of the world.

What’s happening now is a rough patch and you learned a very hard lesson, but you really learned it. You’re working hard to rebuild. Stay consistent, especially in the small choices. Be patient, things will slowly improve.

Ability

I know you want to take better care of your body. You want to love her. Really, you feel like you owe it to your body for carrying you so ably all these years, but you want it to be more pure than that. This feels especially fraught after the years of blaming her, vilifying her, and (at your best) simply taking her for granted. You almost feel nervous, as if you were estranged and being the one to break the silence comes with risk of rejection. I get it. What you feel makes sense.

But here’s the thing. Your body loves you, carries you, is you, and will always, always accept your attempts to repair and rebuild. She will never reject you. Maybe part of you knows this and you feel wary of the power you hold in this dynamic. You have almost all of it, which means the weight of responsibility is yours. You are the one who might fail, who might not follow through, who might not do what she says she’ll do. Your body always does her best. Does that intimidate you? That makes sense. I see you.

You can say you’re sorry and that you want to try again, even knowing you’ll fall short some times. Your body loves you anyways, and doesn’t expect you to be perfect. She doesn’t want all or nothing, she just wants your attention. You’re slowly getting better at feeling her, really seeing her, and now it’s time to stop being afraid. It’s time to make her some promises, even if you might mess it up.

It’s time to prioritize her like she’s real, like she’s a friend you care about. Because she is.

What would you tell her if you weren’t afraid of letting her down again? Now just tell her, like this is the safest and most caring relationship you’ve ever experienced. Because it is.

Mental Health

You struggle with the idea of needing medication in order to be consistent and kind. You wish you could do it on your own, and sometimes you feel weak and pathetic knowing you haven’t, you can’t. And this is where you get to practice interrogating your thoughts, choosing the truth, and then embracing self-compassion. What do you tell your friends? Your students?

Some people are born with or develop diabetes, epilepsy, or hearing loss. And thank goodness for modern medicine’s ability to mitigate the struggle, disruption, and harm these conditions would otherwise cause.

We don’t look down on someone for wearing hearing aids or learning sign language. Why would you look down on yourself for taking antidepressants and using the tools you learned in therapy?

Your brain chemistry is beyond your control and often puts you in situations that deserves medical attention, and it’s okay to accept both those things. Just like she is protected from insulin shock and his seizures are under control, you are protected from extreme lethargy and a huge hole in your compassion tank. Your medicine, the right medication, doesn’t change you, it allows you to be more easily yourself. And you felt that. Remember the relief when you leveled out on the right med that first time? How you cried because it felt so right, so simple and straightforward to just be YOU without the exhausting mind battle first?

Taking your meds is self-care, self-kindness, AND one of the best ways you can love those around you. It doesn’t erase your struggle or delete the depression and anxiety; it’s not a cheat code. Your depression and anxiety are still a part of you, but now they no longer run the show. Your depression deepens your empathy and allows you more accurate perspective-taking, your anxiety drives you to do things really well, but when they’re not helpful you can ask them to take a seat. That’s a lovely thing.

Final Reflections

Using the Wheel of Power + Privilege in this way has been really interesting and new for me. Previously, I’ve always used it in a work setting and kept the reflections short and surfacey, within the professional realm. Working through part 1 and part 2 of How to Map Your Social Identity has pushed me to reflect on and integrate aspects of my self I usually wouldn’t spend much time considering, like my gender expression or skin color. My favorite part of this exercise was, surprisingly, the last page. Speaking directly to myself about the parts I don’t like and try not to think about, choosing words of love and encouragement as if I were talking to my daughter or a friend, felt really beautiful and healing. I’m surprised at some of what I wrote.

I actually want to go back and read everything again, just to soak it up one more time before moving on to our next topic.

How did it go for you? Did anything surprise you, did anything feel uneasy? Both can be signposts towards the self, if we pay attention.

What did you write to yourself, from yourself?