The Tender Lie of Self-Improvement

Before we begin —
Please don’t mistake any of this for truth.
That goes double if these words land somewhere meaningful.

Let’s not take thoughts too seriously.
Let’s just bathe in the language for a while —
feel what we feel,

and trust that our psyche is digesting all the stories.

The ones that were thrust upon us.
The ones we tell ourselves.

Soon enough, the day will come
when we leave it all behind.

Self-improvement wears such a soft face.

It whispers in the voice of care: You’re doing great…and you could do even better.

It wraps its arms around you like a friend, while quietly pointing to somewhere else.

It took me a long time to see that this was still a form of rejection.

What if you knew, beyond the shadow of all doubt, that there was nothing you could do to be better?

I posted this question in 2023. Some found it impossible to even imagine a world where they were somehow ‘perfect’.

Do we really change?

It’s self-help blasphemy.

It goes against almost everything we’re sold — from the pursuit of a seven-figure business (whatever that means), and the never-ending weight loss journey, to the gentle smugness of baking your own sourdough.

It always feels like you’re just one post, one insight, one new habit away from cracking the code to your best life.

But the chase often means we’re taking our eyes off the life that’s already here…rejecting the life we’ve already been given.

Because underneath the tidy upgrades and spiritual growth and “becoming my best self”…

There’s a refusal of what’s here now.

A subtle no to the parts of me that don’t fit the image — the tired, chaotic, unwise bits that I’d rather keep out of the frame.

Even presence, which starts as something real, can slip into performance.

Meditation becomes another checkbox.

Stillness becomes something to achieve.

We end up watching ourselves live, hoping we’re doing it right.
A gulf opens — subtle, but deep.
And instead of dropping headlong into it, we hesitate.
Split.
Performing presence, rather than living it.

And maybe that’s the real cost: we miss the life that’s trying to live through us in this moment, while we reach for the one we think we’re supposed to be having.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to grow.

But growth isn’t always tidy. It doesn’t always look like progress.

Sometimes it’s a breakdown that no one claps for.

Sometimes it’s crying in the car.

Sometimes it’s staying with what hurts, without trying to fix it.

Letting go of self-improvement isn’t about giving up.

It’s about loosening the grip on the version of yourself you think you need to become,

so you can finally meet the one who’s already here.

Not wise.

Not right.

But here…

Here,

Able to talk to the stars.
To sit with a blackbird’s call.
To hold a child’s hand.
To plant something in the earth.
To look out at the horizon.
To sing.
To dance.
Here,

Able to say
Thank you.

If this stirred something in you — a memory, a resistance, a sigh of relief — I’d love to hear it.

You can reply directly, or just sit with it awhile. This space is for conversation, not conversion.

Yours in conversation,

David