I had a revelation this past weekend about the importance of how I talk to myself. 

Sure, I’ve always accepted that self-talk, in some way, influences our well-being. I’ve always believed that self-compassion is important, and that it’s never helpful to constantly be tearing ourselves down or taking a mental inventory of all our flaws. (Whether or not I practice these things is another story.) I get sad and frustrated when my friends talk negatively about themselves even if it’s jokingly.

So, hear me out:

My “rabbit hole revelation” began as I was reading Amanda Montell’s “Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism,” specifically the following passage:

“A linguistic concept called the theory of performativity says that language does not simply describe or reflect who we are, it creates who we are. That’s because speech itself has the capacity to consummate actions, thus exhibiting a level of intrinsic power. (The plainest examples of performative language would be making a promise, performing a wedding ceremony, or pronouncing a legal sentence.) When repeated over and over again, speech has meaningful, consequential power to construct and constrain our reality.”

In the context of the book (which is more broadly about the power of language to influence us) this theory was discussed as it relates to groups and cults. But as I read it – and maybe I’ve just spent too much time in therapy (CBT 4ever!!!!) – I couldn’t help but read the last sentence through the lens of self-talk.

So – cue internet rabbit hole! – I started reading more about the theory of performativity. The theory, popularized by philosopher and gender theorist Judith Butler, posits that language is not merely a tool for communication but a powerful force that actively constructs our sense of self. (Butler’s work focuses in large part on gender and how the language we use to communicate gender plays a huge role in shaping how we think about ourselves.)

As I kept reading about this theory, I mentally substituted the references to “language” (usually referred to in an external, social sense) with “self talk” or “internal monologue” or even – to use a popular therapy term – “inner critic.” And, as I read about the theory through this lens, two of its core tenets in particular stood out to me:

1) The constitutive power of language: the idea that language isn’t merely descriptive; it has constitutive power. It doesn’t just represent pre-existing identities but actively participates in creating and shaping them. The repeated use of certain language constructs and reinforces social norms and categories.

2) Repetition and ritual: through the repetition of language, norms and identities are not only maintained but also produced.

So, at its core, performativity is the idea that language is not a passive reflection of pre-existing identities, but rather a dynamic force that actively shapes and creates them. So, when we speak, we are not just describing ourselves; we are performing our identity. And when we speak about ourselves to others, and when we speak about ourselves to ourselves, this performative aspect of language is particularly evident.

Viewed through this lens, my internal monologue is continuously shaping who I am … and so the words I choose matter!

We read about the power of positive self-talk to improve self-esteem, confidence, and resilience; and, conversely, the power of negative self-talk to perpetuate self-doubt, anxiety, and depression. We talk about having a “growth mindset” – the difference between saying, “I can’t do this; I’m not good enough” versus “I may face challenges, but I am capable, and I can learn and grow”- and how the former sets limitations and reinforces a negative self-perception, while the latter embraces the potential for improvement and resilience.

And I’ve always believed in the power of these things to improve my well-being – I’ve experienced them firsthand – but I still write off so much of what I say to myself subconsciously, or to others casually, as not important. But really, every time I refer to myself as “lazy” or “worthless” or “stupid” or “a joke” in my own head, it’s probably having a lot more power than I think. And, conversely, I have probably underestimated the power of positive self-talk, especially when it feels silly, fake, or forced.

By “silly, fake, or forced” I think specifically of the practice of affirmations. For example, if I try to start my morning by looking at myself in the mirror and repeating, “I am worthy,” that feels incredibly … forced and fake. Mostly because I don’t actually believe it. But if I consider language as constitutive, then … maybe it is through that repetition that I will start to believe in its truth. 

Performativity highlights that language is not just a reflection of reality; it is an active force that shapes my experience. If I commit to consistently use language that reinforces positive aspects of myself, I can contribute to the construction of a more empowered and confident self. Conversely, the power I allow myself negative self-talk, the more I’m likely to create a self-fulfilling prophecy in which I limit myself and my abilities.

Ok, that’s enough pontificating, Maddy. What am I going to commit to practically?! 

One of the biggest challenges for me over the (many) years I’ve been trying to practice CBT has been the initial step of noticing my thoughts and paying attention to my inner monologue. I can’t change my thoughts if I’m not even aware they’re happening in the first place. I’ve had to spend so much energy – and still do – taking the time and space to notice and pay attention to my internal dialogue. It’s so subconscious and so habitual that, unless I take time to ask myself, “What are you thinking right now?” or to write down the thoughts I’m having (often critical about myself), I allow my inner monologue to run wild.¹

And now that I’m starting to appreciate more how even these casual words or thoughts have extreme power over my actions and in shaping my identity, I want to do even more to keep checking in with myself (mentally, or physically via writing, talking to someone) on a regular basis to become more aware of the language I use.

Second, I want to start a more intentional practice of affirmations and/or mantras. I’ve often found mantras in particular helpful when I’m going through difficult things (one of my recent favorites, courtesy of Lady Tan’s Circle of Women, has been, “No mud, no lotus”) but I could do more to try and speak my self-worth into existence, so to speak. Even if I don’t believe it as I say it, there is power in using that language and maybe it is truly a case of “faking it til I make it.”

Because I share these thoughts (in spite of my current inner monologue that is telling me this entire post is stupid and everything I just wrote is incredibly obvious and/or not well-articulated!!!), I’d love to hear from anyone who cares to share if they have an affirmation, mantra, or self-compassion practice that has had a positive impact on their well-being.

Finally, I have to end with one of my favorite videos of all-time. May we all channel this little girl’s energy in our journey to self-compassion:

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1. Note: I want to expand more in another post about the way I’ve used the principles of CBT (cognitive behavioral therapy) to start reframing my negative, self-critical thoughts; this post is more specific to the initial steps of noticing and awareness. ↩︎