Over the weekend, I read a piece by an FT journalist about copping with Covid lockdown as a single woman who lives by herself. It was searing in its honesty, and I imagine it took a lot of courage to write. Admitting to yourself that you are lonely is difficult enough, much less admitting it to the world. The article echoed my frustration that marriage/coupledom is seen as essential to being happy, across countries and cultures. but, this post is not about loneliness, a topic that I have written about often, and will continue to do so. One line stuck with me, "Just because it is my problem, doesn't make it my fault". Amen. When we find ourselves in an unfavourable situation, we often blame ourselves, which is natural. how long can you blame bad luck? If you are of the over-thinking variety, it is easier to turn the critical gaze on to yourself. Bad luck is a conversation- and thought-stopper. It cannot be dissected without venturing into the realm of the supernatural. You and your purported failings, on the other hand, provide infinite opportunities for introspection, dissection and intellectualization. But, while tempting, this is not an innocuous past-time because self-talk matters. Repeated self-condemnation can corrode your self-esteem. So, it is preferable to blame bad luck and put an end to the internal conversation.
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