The myth of negative reinforcement
As a trainer, I’m never one to yell at my clients.
Tease them- maybe- ask them to drop their weights mid-set and manually move their limbs where I want them to be when they’re not getting my cues - sometimes - but raise my voice or insult them, absolutely not.
I’m put off by the ‘drill sergeant’ trope. If somebody is making me feel like I’m weak, useless or behind - I don’t feel pushed, I feel traumatised and wish to recluse. I get the impression that many of my clients feel the same way. One client told me, ‘I like that you don’t shout’, which made me feel mildly concerned about what other trainers out there are doing.
I saw a post from The Betoota Advocate (my favourite satire newspaper) headlining-
‘Woman who hated PE realises exercise can be fun when you’re not being picked last for a team’.
As an uncoordinated teenager, I wasn’t very good at any sports, which seemed to be the entire focus of PE classes. I wasn’t yelled at… But I would be made to perform push-ups in front of the class if I were late, which I physically could not do (I now realise this is normal for girls and women, especially).
Since I knew that exercise was still good for me, as a teenager, I’d rather follow my mum’s exercise DVDS in the living room than face the public humiliation of feeling bad at something, like push-ups in front of 30 other kids. I played hockey, but I was never good at it. The fear of looking like an idiot was a significant reason why I didn’t join a gym for quite a long time.
The only way I ever really got good at exercising was when I had other people tutor me on how to do things properly. When I realised that it’s okay, and normal to not be very good at things when you first try them, but with practice it can become a lot easier, the challenge of it becomes enjoyable, as opposed to frustrating.
This wouldn’t have happened if I showed up to every workout anticipating being put down and told how bad I was.
I mention this because I notice many of my clients are their own drill sergeant/old school PE teacher.
The internal dialogue feels very Terence Fletcher, this kind of vibe:
Yeesh.
The whole ‘I have to stop being lazy, I need to stop eating rubbish, I’m letting myself go’ thing. We use harsh language to talk about ourselves in an attempt to motivate ourselves. I think we all think like that sometimes.
Australian model Stephanie Miller (on Instagram @stephclairesmith), mentioned in an interview that the Victoria’s Secret models she once worked with would pick themselves and their bodies apart in the fitting rooms before photoshoots.
If this isn’t evidence that the negative self-talk doesn’t go away the ‘harder’ you work towards something (such as having a societally deemed ‘ideal’ body) - then I tend to ask my clients: when has putting themselves down ever worked to help them change their habits and lifestyle, feel healthier or have more confidence in their body?
An article in the Atlantic titled ‘The Key to Critical Self-Awareness’ points out the importance of constructive criticism, as opposed to being coddled. We can’t just become a society where everybody is so nice to each other that we refrain from pointing out when our loved ones are potentially harming themselves or others for fear of hurting their feelings.
But on the other hand, you can’t cling to and obsess over your flaws and weaknesses - determined to erase them, to optimise your potential and become this super saiyan of fitness, wellness, hot-ness - whatever - not only because it detracts you from having an actual life (are we really glamorising not having friends or doing anything fun EVER now?), or even the fact that seeking out and zooming in on your flaws creates shame - which as we know (thanks, Brene Brown) - is crippling for our self-esteem and mental health…
…But because it’s not humanly possible.
If not even Victoria’s Secret models ever feel fully adequate in their appearance, what hope does that leave for the rest of us? I’ll tell you what - quite a lot, actually. It gives us the liberation of not needing to reach super saiyan-potential, because we know it’s not the golden ticket to loving ourselves.
We can identify our weak points, struggles and quirks without a desperation to remove them. Rather, if they’re that much of a hindrance to our health, happiness and/or quality of life, we can seek to understand where the struggle is coming from and find a way to address the root cause in a gentle yet practical way.
I don’t think that being mean to ourselves or other people really is that effective at helping us change long-term and get any kind of fulfilment out of it.
We can work on ourselves and try to change our habits, without the constant bullying.
Showing ourselves compassion doesn’t equal complacency, aka copping out.
It means seeing yourself as a human and learning to accept and work with that, instead of aiming for this illusion of perfection that doesn’t exist.