Not long ago, during one of our winding conversations, my beloved friend said something that stayed with me. She said:
“I complain all the time, and I complain out loud, because that’s the only way I can come to terms with life and accept reality as it is. Then I can say: okay, reality is awful — and that’s that.”
On complaining, acceptance, and the words we repeat
As she was speaking, a sentence flashed through my mind like lightning. It was from a book I had recently read, You Are a Badass at Making Money (a beautiful book, by the way — one I truly recommend). The author, Jen Sincero, writes:
“Our perception of reality is also greatly influenced by our words. Words bring our thoughts and beliefs to life and help anchor them into our ‘realities’ through repetition. Words help us form our identities; we get attached to our lingo, our schtick. The more you tell yourself you’re a forgetful choob, the more you will believe it — and therefore act like a forgetful choob.”
And I thought — though I didn’t say it out loud, because I’ve learned not to give advice unless I’m asked, or unless I feel genuinely inspired to do so — how incredibly important it is what we say to ourselves, and how we speak to ourselves. Words carry meaning. The words we choose, and the way we use them, matter immensely.
Our perception of reality is also greatly influenced by our words.
The way we speak to ourselves
In that sense, the first thing I became truly aware of in my late twenties, when I began a long and thorough transformation (one that is still ongoing and will last for as long as I’m alive), was the way I talked to myself. What words did I use most often? And in what tone did I address myself.
I was stunned when I realised how often I told myself I was stupid, how often I scolded myself for not doing what I had said I would do — and how I would then punish myself for it. It was a difficult but necessary realisation, one that forced me to confront these patterns.
Learning to listen to myself
The first thing I did was go into the bathroom, stand in front of the mirror, and really look at myself. Truly look. And then I said:
Hello, you.
You are beautiful and special. You are so interesting and unique.
I’m glad we’re meeting again.
I’m sorry for all the harsh words, and for all the moments when I wasn’t there for you — when you needed me, when you really needed me.
I’m sorry.
I’m here now. I hear you. And I will never leave again. I’ll be here constantly. I will love you every day. And if I forget, please know that it’s never intentional — and remind me that you need me.
I love you. And thank you for accepting my apology.
That was the first step.
Finding a word that brings me back
The next thing I realised was that I needed some kind of code word — something that would remind me of myself, of my needs, of a gentler inner dialogue. Something that could instantly bring me back to myself and remind me to say: I’m here now, and everything will be okay.
That word was banana. For a long time, it was banana.
I’m aware it sounds a bit silly, but for me, it worked beautifully. Because it was a word completely out of context, it felt almost absurd to use it for something as important as showing up for myself again. And yet, that was precisely its power. Because it was so out of place, it always pulled me back into myself.
Over time, other words appeared — more fitting, more meaningful for certain situations. But even now, the word banana still pops into my mind when I least expect it. And when it does, I pause. I greet myself gently.
Why words matter
Words are incredibly important — for our relationship with ourselves, with others, and with life itself. Words are the basic units of language. They are the first physical form of our thoughts, shaping intangible ideas into something we can understand. They are essential for communication, for expressing emotions, for shaping reality, and for building relationships.
There is no relationship in the world more important than the one we have with ourselves.
Let’s pause for a moment and think about that.
Words shape reality. Words build relationships. And among all the words we will ever speak, the words we choose when speaking to ourselves about ourselves are the most important of all.
There is no relationship in the world more important than the one we have with ourselves. Everything begins there. If we are not well, no one around us truly is. And that’s why it isn’t loving when a partner, a mother, a father — or anyone else — tells us that we matter more to them than they do to themselves. That isn’t love, and it isn’t self-care. Because if we don’t give ourselves the love, attention, and care we need, we will never be able to fully give them to others.
So the next time we speak to ourselves, let’s pause for a moment. Let’s remember how much the words we choose — and the tone we use — truly matter. Are we gentle? Could we be gentler? Is there a word that could remind us to soften? What is that word? Should we write it down somewhere we’ll see it every day, so we don’t forget what we promised ourselves?
Whatever we decide, one thing is certain: we are the only people who will be with ourselves for our entire lives — constantly, in every moment.
Isn’t it crucial, then, that we become our own best friends, partners, and companions?
That we love ourselves endlessly, unconditionally, gently, and with care?