Exploring the Depths of Self-Concept: How We Measure Who We Are
On the fourth day of my exploration in Stockholm, I found myself standing on a train, mesmerized by the lustrous hair of a woman whose long mohair coat swept elegantly behind her. It was in this moment of observation that I finally identified the unease I had felt since my arrival: Stockholm was making me feel less attractive and inadequate. This was my maiden visit to Sweden, and after spending eight months immersed in the traditional lifestyle of a small town in Southern Italy, the transition back to a globalized, consumer-driven environment was overwhelming. I had seemingly forgotten about the allure of trendy wine bars, luxurious salons, spas, and high-end fashion brands.
As I glanced down at my own attire—a faded orange puffer jacket with sleeves begging for a dry-clean—and my scuffed leather shoes, paired with socks worn for a second day, I felt out of place. The train deposited us at yet another strip of boutiques, and as I stood outside a spa contemplating the modern ritual of self-care, my gaze wandered to the window display of a store offering jewelry, coffee table books, candleholders, and blankets—items typically associated with self-love and indulgence.
These were things that were not necessities in my life, yet the tantalizing shopfronts made me acutely aware of their absence. I was seized by the notion that my satisfaction and self-worth were contingent upon acquiring them. When I later discussed my sense of inadequacy in Stockholm with my therapist, she suggested that this anxiety stemmed from the pervasive atmosphere of effort and inauthenticity surrounding me. These stores were essentially selling the idea that their products were the key to ultimate happiness and self-fulfillment. Spoiler alert: they are not.
Many of us like to believe that these acts of self-care and self-love empower us, that they complete us. However, the distinction between genuine self-care and socio-culturally imposed standards of how we should be is often so subtle that we conflate the two. We convince ourselves that participation in these rituals makes us feel good and whole. For instance, there have been times when I’ve found myself enduring the discomfort of a beauty parlor appointment during my lunch break, while an esthetician meticulously threads my eyebrows into an ‘acceptable’ shape and removes the slightly darker hairs on my upper lip. In those moments of physical discomfort, my mind races with thoughts of the more enjoyable activities I could be engaging in: a leisurely walk, savoring a slow cup of coffee, or losing myself in a good book.
Yet, when it’s all said and done, and I catch a glimpse of my reflection, I feel both lighter and brighter—closer to, yet further from, my true self. But what exactly is my true self? And who are these rituals really for? I claim they are for me, yet there’s an inherent tension when I contemplate or articulate this.
Self-concept, as defined by humanistic psychologist Carl Rogers, is the framework through which we perceive ourselves, dictating how we feel, behave, think, and relate to others. It consists of two main components: conditions of worth and introjections. Conditions of worth are the rules that dictate our beliefs, values, and behaviors, with acceptance, approval, success, and love being contingent upon meeting these standards. For instance, the belief that if I look or behave a certain way, people will generally like me. Introjections, on the other hand, are external attitudes we’ve absorbed over time, treating them as facts rather than opinions, such as societal standards of beauty.
The contrast between a healthy and unhealthy self-concept lies in the source of our evaluations. A healthy self-concept is guided by an internal locus of evaluation, meaning we trust our instincts and rely on an internal valuing process. We have a strong sense of self and values that are not overly influenced by external messages. Conversely, an unhealthy self-concept is rigid and governed by an external locus of evaluation. This means that others’ opinions and societal standards have been internalized to the point where we’ve forgotten our own thoughts on these matters. Common external conditions of worth include the belief that we are only valuable if we excel academically, earn a high salary, possess physical beauty, are desired by others, achieve material success, never show weakness, and constantly please others.
But is this really the path to self-actualization? Self-actualization is the pursuit of our truest self—the best version of ourselves—not in terms of attractiveness or wealth, but in terms of balance, health, creativity, and intelligence. It’s about embodying these qualities because they resonate with our deepest selves, not because others have deemed them desirable.
Western culture, through relentless marketing, bombards us with conditions of worth: ‘Buy this and you’ll be envied,’ ‘Look like this and you’ll be desired,’ and so on. Few places in the world are exempt from these external pressures. Stockholm just happened to be a place where these pressures were particularly evident to me. As I observed the people in this city, interacting with stores with a jaded demeanor, I wondered if they recognized the pervasive self-improvement industry or if they had simply been immersed in it for too long to notice.
The conditions that imprison Stockholmers are reminiscent of those I’ve observed in Melbourne and many other cities. The consensus seems to be that the more up-to-date and groomed your aesthetic, the more enviable your lifestyle appears, the more worthy you feel, even if you’re exhausted, unhappy, and disillusioned by the process.
When I expressed my feelings of inadequacy to my therapist, she posed a thought-provoking question: ‘Do you think this is really the road to self-actualization, Harriet, to fulfillment?’ She was referring to the pursuit of casual designer outfits, elaborate skincare routines, luxurious apartments, and the perfect career. ‘So, what do I do?’ I asked. ‘Do I disengage and feel terrible about myself next to those still participating in and upholding the conditions?’
‘No,’ she replied, shaking her head. ‘You change the way you measure worth.’
Suppressing, denying, or betraying your intrinsic needs and values leads to self-loss. I became determined to understand external conditions of worth and their origins. It is human nature to seek love, acceptance, and validation, and many of us unconsciously alter ourselves to achieve these feelings of worthiness. Society’s many voices convey the criteria for a ‘worthy person,’ through billboard advertisements, influencer posts, and cultural norms.
The more we heed these messages, the further our self-concept drifts from our authentic selves. This disparity, known as cognitive dissonance, is a perilous state. Suppressing your true self for social approval can lead to an identity crisis, characterized by chronic anxiety, depression, irritability, disillusion, and identity confusion.
To find your true self, you need a space of unconditional acceptance. It is normal to oscillate between internal and external evaluation, but excessive reliance on external sources distorts our true identity. Distinguishing whether external conditions govern your life requires introspection. Monitor your internal dialogue for phrases like ‘I should’ or ‘I must,’ and assess whether your decisions serve you or how you’re perceived.
Life is too short to live by external conditions of worth, like enduring discomfort for beauty rituals or feeling diminished by luxurious displays. You owe it to yourself to discover what brings you true well-being and live in alignment with that.
If you’re interested in exploring your intrinsic self, Sarah Blondin offers a mindfulness recording that may help. If external opinions heavily influence your life, working with a therapist to explore conditions of worth can be a rewarding journey in reclaiming your true self.
