Your first thought is probably, "Oh, this is a post for performers and writers."
It is not.
This rather lengthy post is for anyone who grew up hearing more criticism than praise. And this is especially for those who are now finding themselves stepping into the shoes of their parents. Though your story will not be exactly like mine, it is my hope that this post helps you understand yourself and your relationships better, and that your understanding can be a starting point for healing and growth.
Now, remember that I am not a psychologist, nor am I a parenting "expert". I am simply speaking from my own experience and what I have observed in a parent/child relationship. And yes, my parents are Chinese, and some may say that they were just being typical Chinese parents. My parents are also Christian (and some may say that they were just being typical Christian parents). Whatever the case, I am not passing judgment on them. My parents weren't abusive; they didn't intentionally hurt me. They were good parents who taught me first and foremost to love God, but they had one failure: they rarely gave praise or encouragement, even when I succeeded or tried my hardest. Rather than point out what I did right, my parents would point out the tiny things that I did wrong. So what I heard most often were statements about how my work wasn't good enough, and if I made a mistake, I was scolded for being careless or sloppy. But rather than rebel, I tried harder. I did everything I could to please my parents, living in fear of what they would say if I failed them. And though I grew into an emotionally healthy adult, and have since forgiven my parents and given them grace, I have found that the criticism from my childhood years has affected me beyond the relationship between my parents and me.
First and foremost, I grew up with a skewed view of myself. In high school, I did my work, followed the rules, and rarely spoke up in class. I didn't reach out to peers, didn't take chances, and became a very private person. There were a few teachers who gently encouraged me in music and art and writing, and to this day those teachers shine in my memory as some of the most influential people in my childhood.
My college years were a continuation of my high school years: stay under the radar, please the professors, get by without getting noticed. Being more independent did force me to think for myself, but there was still a fearful side of me-- fear of rejection from people, fear of making a mistake that could not be corrected, fear of the guilt I would feel. One wrong move, and who knows what would happen? I was unsure of myself, unsure of my abilities, and unsure of my opinions.
And so, even as an adult post-college, I thought I was a failure if I couldn't get something right. It sounds extreme, but if I broke a dish or spilled water, I would become angry and frustrated. (You could imagine what a crazy housewife I was!) When I was first married, I had no idea how to cook. But I tried my best to learn, in an effort to please my new husband. But then if I made a meal that didn't taste great, didn't look presentable, or my husband did not thoroughly enjoy, I would be depressed for the rest of the day. It was a kind of perfectionism, but not the kind that was about precision, where there was a sense of satisfaction when one finished a project. My kind of perfectionism relied heavily on other's opinions. The sense of satisfaction from simply a job well done was not there.
What finally helped me? Two loves, God's and my husband's. Near the end of my college years, I was asked (and greatly encouraged) to serve as the worship leader at a small Baptist church. The pastor there was passionate for Christ, and so humbled and moved by His love and death on the cross that every Sunday he could not help but talk about God's unconditional love. And that was when I realized that I had never grasped the depth of God's love. All my life, I had thought love to be based on what I did, because my parents' love seemed to be like that. And without knowing it, I viewed God the same way I viewed my parents. I had accepted Christ at the age of ten, but then spent the next ten years trying to win God's approval. When I failed, I felt like a 'bad Christian'. Then I would try again, when the truth was, there was no way I could ever earn God's love. And so, in my twenties, I stepped into the light of that for the first time. It was wonderfully freeing! All the words I had heard for years-- love, grace, mercy, peace-- finally became a reality to me.
It was soon after that that I met my husband. The story there is similar; there was always a part of me that didn't quite believe that my husband loved me no matter what. After failing at several meals during my first few years of married life, but never once hearing a critical remark or even complaint from my husband, I started to get it. In the beginning, when he told me that I was beautiful or wonderful or talented, I brushed him off. Now, after eleven and a half years of hearing those words, I can't help but believe it. My husband is tangible proof to me that one can love another for who he/she is, not for what he/she does. I can say with confidence that under the shelter of my husband's love, I have blossomed as a writer, musician, chef, mother, and wife. I am more ambitious, confident, and outspoken now than I ever was before.
What's even more amazing about my husband is that for many years I didn't realize how my upbringing affected our marriage. Before, if he made a comment like, "The kids left their toys out in the front yard," I immediately jumped to the conclusion that he was making a comment on my lack of ability as a mother. I would then retaliate with an angry, "I didn't have time, I can't do everything," which left my husband wondering how his simple observation quickly became a cat fight. Thank God my husband is gracious. He knew to say something like, "I wasn't being critical of you," and because of his graciousness, I have since learned that the criticism I grew up with also affected my relationship with others. Scenarios like the one I described happens most often with my husband, but they can also happen with other family members and friends. A person makes a comment, and I feel the need to make an excuse and defend myself. Or worse, I become angry because I misinterpreted what they said as a critique of my person or my work. It helps to remind myself that most often (especially with family and friends) this is not the case, and I need to truly hear what the person said, and not make assumptions about the underlying meaning. If need be, I can ask for clarification. And even if a person was being underhandedly critical, does that person's opinion matter? Sometimes, the answer is 'no'.
Because God's opinion matters more than anyone's. Next, I would say, is my husband's, because he is the man I most respect, honor, and trust. And I have also learned that there is satisfaction in a job well-done. It may not be perfect, but the effort and time I put into the project and the enjoyment I got out of the project are not things to be dismissed. I don't need to be a perfectionist, and I can enjoy my work without someone else's approval, or even someone else's knowledge of what I've done.
But the most important lesson I'm learning now is how criticism affects how I treat my children. I have noticed that my natural tendency is to be critical with my own children. It is easier for me to see their shortcomings, because for so long, I've expected myself to be perfect. I have to work very hard at biting my tongue, and to find a balance between being encouraging and being instructive.
If you are a parent, you know that you tend to do things the way it was modeled to you. And so, if you too had critical parents, be aware that you may also become a critical parent yourself. And it is extra-crucial that you grasp this point: your child's perception of you plays a big part in your child's perception of God. If you show unconditional love and grace to your child, he/she will more easily understand his/her Heavenly Father's love and grace.
And the biggest key in teaching this to your child, and for you to find healing from the criticism, is to ignore the lies in your head and focus on God's truth.
When the critical voice says, "You're not good enough," remember Psalm 139:14.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.
When the voice says, "You've messed up again. You're a failure. You're guilty," hear God's words from 2 Corinthians 12:9.
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
When you're feeling unsure or fearful, Jeremiah 29:11 and Deuteronomy 31:8 will encourage you.
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.
"It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed."
And if you think that God can't love you, read Romans 5:7-8.
For one will scarcely die for a righteous person-- though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die-- but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.
Those of you who have been reading my blog for some time probably noticed that I write on identity quite a bit. Now you know why, or at least one reason why. And it's still a daily lesson for me, learning to see myself from God's point of view. You can read more on 'identity' by clicking on the subject in the menu on the right, but more important than reading the words I write, know what God's Word says. Only He can give grace, forgiveness, peace, and true unconditional love.
(And for parents, I plan on sharing some practical ways to be less critical. Depending on how busy life gets, I hope to have this post written by April 1st.)
