Learning to Uphold Myself
Some notes from my personal growth journey lately
These days I’m working hard on becoming more of an “upholder” to myself. By that I mean, in a nutshell, that I’m trying to un-learn my old habits of people-pleasing self-abandonment and build new habits of self-respect.
The term “upholder”
I’m referring to Gretchen Rubin’s book The Four Tendencies, which I read last fall at the recommendation of my new therapist, to whom I introduced myself by saying essentially, “Please help me stop automatically deferring to everyone except myself.”
In the book, Rubin proposes that people tend to fall into one of four general categories for how they respond to expectations:
Upholders tend to meet both outer expectations (from other people) and inner expectations (from themselves).
Questioners tend to meet inner expectations, but not outer expectations unless they understand and agree with the reason for doing so.
Obligers tend to meet expectations from other people, but not from themselves.
Rebels tend to buck both outer and inner expectations, preferring to follow their feelings of the moment instead.
From obliger to upholder
At first, I thought I was an “obliger”: I habitually comply with what other people want me to do but have a hard time fulfilling my own needs. But that model didn’t sit quite right. For one thing, why was I there at the therapist’s office saying essentially “please help me stop being an obliger” if that was just my natural comfort zone? And for another thing, many parts of Gretchen Rubin’s description of upholders sounded quite like me—such as having a penchant for schedules and organization systems. (I have more than once been called “the queen of office supplies.”) 🖇️ 📓 🖊️ 📂
Finally, it clicked. My nature is that of an upholder, not an obliger—but growing up I was programmed to be an obliger. (I did quite a lot of that programming myself. I remember teenage me begging God in tears to help me “mortify my flesh”—that’s Bible-speak for disowning one’s own feelings in order to be enmeshed with one’s notions of God and godliness.) Now I want to undo that programming and learn to be an upholder to myself—to listen to my feelings, trust my instincts, and protect my needs.
There’s a LOT I could say about this, but here are just a few ways this learning is changing my life lately. 🌻
In my parenting
I’m getting stronger with setting limits and saying no to my kids, while still maintaining a strong connection with them. It’s all about paying more attention to my own feelings and needs.
For example, when they’re dithering and dawdling instead of brushing their teeth, yet they want me to keep standing there beside them (we are a neurodivergent family, for those who are familiar with what that looks like), but I’m feeling tired and impatient, I’ll say, “Okay, my standing here is going to expire in 10, 9, 8…”—and if they don’t start brushing by the end of the countdown, I go sit down in the next room. This has been working quite well for us, and it’s way better than before: the old me would just stand there suffering and stressing until the kid finally cooperates.
In my marriage
I’ve been speaking up more about my feelings and needs with my partner—and less about everything else (see below, regarding my love for quietness). And in terms of boundaries, I’m learning how to just very simply set them and act on them, rather than making a lot of fuss.
As a very mild example, the other day I walked past him out of the room and said, “I’m going to go try to calm myself down.” (I think my actual words were “I’m gonna go chillax myself.”) That was his cue to take over with the kids for a while. In the past I might have instead launched into a desperate speech about why I’m so exhausted and stressed and therefore need him to help me, or I might have micromanaged how he was going to do things. Now, I just figure out what I want/need and then do it, without excess words and drama. Ahhh.
In my general personality
A huge area lately in which I’m learning to be more of an upholder to myself is letting my natural personality come out more—a.k.a. unmasking.
For me, that essentially means letting myself be more quiet. Growing up, I felt pressure to be sociable and outgoing, so I developed a persona of a cheery, helpful leader. But it turns out, my natural state is not—to use Hogwarts terms—a cheery Hufflepuff nor a take-charge Gryffindor (nor a savvy Slytherin, which I never was anyway), but a reflective Ravenclaw.
I want to be allowed to just stare into space and think about things, instead of always actively contributing to a conversation. I want to listen and reflect more than I speak, and I want to speak only when I feel it necessary or desirable. I want to let my face be often still and blank while I inhabit my own mindspace, rather than being available every moment to mirror other people’s faces. I want to be quiet.
And the more I let myself be quiet like that, the more like me I feel. I can’t do it with everyone yet; but at least at home, I know my husband and kids won’t take my quietness personally. I think they can sense that when I seem quiet and reflective, it’s not about them, but in fact means I’m feeling at ease. 🪷
In my mind
I’m learning the difference between how it feels when I’m operating in the old way of obliging and appeasing others and when I’m upholding my own needs and feelings.
In the old mode, I operate on the vague assumption that I am subject to other people’s evaluations and input on my life, choices, and actions. I feel pressure in my head, tightness in my chest, and discomfort in my stomach. Figuratively, I’m cringing and scuttling about fretfully.
But the new way feels self-compassionate, self-directed, and self-aligned. I am the one who evaluates my choices. I am the one whose business it is what I do. This feels like I’m standing upright and striding confidently forward, breathing deeply and freely, and having compassion for all the hard parts of my experience.
So whenever I notice myself feeling cringey again, that’s a cue that I’m back in the old mode (a.k.a. triggered and disregulated), and I need to intervene for myself as soon as possible, via self-care steps and helpful reminders (like my song “Shut the Door” 🎵).
A final thought
Whatever one’s natural personality and tendency, I think that being one’s own best advocate and keeper is essential for happiness and wellbeing. May we each find our way to being our own rock in the ever-changing river of life.
