English version below : )
隔了好一陣子沒有發表長文，這陣子有被現實壓垮的感覺，失去了寫作的餘裕與心情…
但感覺越是這種時候，越是要創作，把心中雜亂無章的思緒，透過文字好好梳理。
這次分享的內容，是我最近一直在思考，同時也不斷嘗試運用在生活中的 mindset。
我們很常聽到別人說，要愛自己、相信自己、做自己。市面上也充斥著這類書籍。
雖然我知道這些事情的重要性，卻總是不知道該如何實踐。
當一個人處在低潮，對自己的狀態不滿意，連起床都覺得費力時，要他突然開始「愛自己」，實在強人所難。
相信自己也是。
有時候，我們就是沒有信心。面對一件從來沒做過的事，不知道自己能不能做好。儘管做了萬全準備，還是擔心失敗；看著別人好像都前進的比自己快，心裡難免懷疑，是不是只有自己一直停在原地。
這種時候，說再多次「相信自己」，感覺也是自我欺騙。
但最近我認識到另一個概念。
它和愛自己、相信自己不太一樣，卻可能帶來類似，甚至更穩固的力量。
那便是：尊重自己（Self-respect）。
你不一定喜歡現在的自己，也不一定對自己最後會成功有信心。
但你仍然願意認真看待自己的人生。
願意為想成為的人付出，也願意在失敗時，不急著自我譴責。
這件事聽起來有點抽象，卻是每個人都會面臨的狀況。
我們每天都在決定，要不要尊重自己。
當你決定開始寫作、運動、學一項新的技能，或者準備一場很重要的考試，大概都會先替自己訂下一些目標。
今天讀幾頁書，一週運動幾次，每天練習多久。
做這些計畫時，自己對未來大概是充滿理想、想像的。
只是真正要開始行動，往往是最困難的。
儘管好不容易開始，那些清單上的任務，經常會慢慢變成一種壓力。原本是自己想做的，最後卻變成每天拿來責備自己的理由。
今天沒做到，覺得自己不夠自律。
中斷了幾天，就懷疑自己果然沒有毅力，甚至乾脆放棄。
有時候，我們也會不知不覺把紀律理解成一種對自己的強迫：不管多累，都要在早上六點把自己從床上拉起來；不管狀態多差，都必須完成原定的計畫。
好像愈能忽略自己的感受、愈自我犧牲去完成一切，才算成功。
但我現在覺得，真正的紀律不是這樣。
紀律不是逼自己去做討厭的事，也不是無法容忍行程上有任何異動，而是願意花時間和力氣，慢慢朝自己想成為的樣子前進。
你之所以願意持續練習，不是因為有人在旁邊盯著，也不是為了證明自己比別人更努力。
而是因為，這件事對你來說真的很重要。
你知道現在投入的時間，不一定會立刻得到回報，但它會一點一點塑造你未來的樣子。所以即使今天只做了一點，你還是願意做；即使中間中斷了幾天，也願意再回來。
這種紀律的核心不是控制，而是承諾。
如同 James Clear 在《原子習慣》中說的：
Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.
（你的每一個行動，都是投給你想成為的那個人的一票。）
當一個人一次又一次履行對自己的承諾，他得到的未必只是更好的成績、更健康的身體，或某個拿來向外展示的成果。
他也在累積一種更重要的東西：對自己的信任。
你開始知道，自己不是只會想想而已。
你知道自己或許走得慢，偶爾會逃避、偷懶，但最後還是會回到想走的路上。
不是每天都做得完美，而是不輕易放棄那個想成為的自己。
但只靠努力，還不夠。
因為我們也很容易在努力之後，單看結果去判斷自我價值。
考上了，才證明先前的努力值得。
被錄取了，才證明自己有能力。
寫出來的文章有人看，才覺得自己或許真的有資格繼續創作。
如果結果不如預期，我們很容易得出結論：「之前所做的一切，大概都白費了。」
這也是為什麼，很多人明明已經很努力，卻還是無法尊重自己。
因為他們只允許結果是成功的，自己才配得到肯定。
而失敗的自己，絕對是付出的還不夠多、還不夠努力。
結果當然重要。
但並非每件事都適用等價交換，我甚至覺得努力和成果成正比的機會少之又少。
有些努力需要實際的成果，有些失敗也確實意味著我們準備得不夠，或者方法需要調整。
但結果不該成為我們看待自己的唯一方式。
因為任何形式的結果，都不會只取決於一個人付出的多寡。
時機、環境、資源、運氣，甚至別人的選擇，都影響著最後的結果。
我們能夠掌控的，是自己如何面對它。
擔心準備得還不夠，依然投出了履歷。
知道可能被拒絕，還是說出了真正的想法。
準備了很久卻沒有得到想要的結果，難過一陣子，仍舊選擇調適自我、東山再起。
這些事情未必會被寫在履歷上，也不一定有人看見，但它們不會因此變得不重要。
如果我們只在贏的時候才尊重自己，那麼我們尊重的其實不是自己，而是評價。
我們不能只看見自己最後抵達了哪裡，也必須看見一路上那個願意承擔失望、一次次重新站起來的人。
當然，不是每一段失敗都必須被美化成「最好的安排」。
有些經驗就是很糟。
有些拒絕不會在幾年後突然出現神祕的意義、有些努力也可能真的用錯了方向。
但即使如此，一段經驗仍然可以讓我們更清楚地看見自己：
「原來我如此在意這件事；原來這種生活並不適合我；原來我以為自己堅持不住，最後卻還是走過來了。」
經驗不一定都是禮物。
但我們可以選擇不讓它，成為否定自己的來源。
這也是一種自我尊重。
尊重自己還包含：不為了討好別人，而一次又一次做出違背自我的決定。
這並不表示我們從此只顧自己，不再配合任何人。
人活在關係裡，本來就需要妥協。有時候我們多做一點，是因為在乎對方；暫時把自己的需求放後面，也是我們主動做出的選擇。
問題不在於妥協本身，而在於我們是不是已經習慣用妥協去會取他人的認可。
明明不願意，還是勉強答應。
明明很受傷，卻總說沒關係。
明明知道某件事違背自己的信念，仍然因為害怕讓人失望，告訴自己忍一下就好。
我們以為這樣可以維持關係，或至少可以避免衝突。
但每一次違背自己的感受，心裡其實都知道。
久而久之，真正受到破壞的，除了與人的界線，還有我們對自己的信任。
因為你逐漸發現，當別人的期待和自己的感受發生衝突時，那個最先放棄、妥協的，往往就是你自己。
尊重自己，不代表永遠堅持己見，更不代表把任性說成忠於自我。
它意味著，在做出重要選擇時，我們願意誠實面對自己正在犧牲什麼。
有些東西可以讓步。
有些東西卻不能一次次拿出去交換，只為了換得短暫的和平。
我們很難要求每個人都理解自己，也無法保證堅持界線之後，不會有人感到失望。
但至少，我們不必強求讓所有人滿意，活成自己都不認得的樣子。
說到這裡，尊重自己聽起來似乎又變成了一件很嚴格的事。
要有紀律、要面對失敗、要守住原則。
好像又多了一套必須做到的人生標準。
但我覺得，真正的自我尊重還包含一件經常被忽略的事：
「接受自己現在就是狀況不好。」
我們很容易只尊重那個表現好的自己。
工作順利、能夠照顧他人、遇到問題能充分應對。
至於那個疲憊、焦慮、做什麼都提不起勁的自己，我們只會貼上失敗的標籤。
可是，尊重一個人，本就該包括他的限制。
我們不會要求一個發燒的人參加馬拉松，也不會因為朋友正處在低潮，就認定他從此是一個沒有用的人。
那麼，為何換成自己時，我們總認為狀況不好的自己不值得善待？
休息不是紀律的反面、它反而是更難做到的紀律。
你必須承認，現在的自己確實很疲憊；你必須放下那種「只要再撐一下，就能渡過」的幻想；也必須忍受暫時沒有進度、無法證明自己的不安。
修復需要時間。
尊重自己從來不是永無止境地要求，也並非毫無原則地放縱。
它同時包含了：我願意為自己的人生負責，但同時，我也願意承認自己是一個會累、會害怕、會有極限的人類。
我不會因為今天狀況不好，就放棄所有對未來的承諾。
但我也不會為了證明自己有紀律，把自己逼到極限。
經過不斷的自我探索，我發現，我們可以把自己想成一個必須合作一輩子的人。
既然是要合作一輩子，我們不會每天欺騙他、要他總以他人優先。
也不會只在他表現好時才站在他這邊，一失敗就嫌棄他，一走不動就責備他。
我們會對他有所期待，也會給他恢復的空間。
尊重不是一種被動等待的感受。
它是我們今天就能做出的選擇。
而當這些選擇累積得夠久，也許有一天，我們會自然地開始相信：
無論接下來遇到什麼，那個最不會輕易放棄我的人，就是我自己。
希望這次分享的內容對你有所幫助，歡迎留言或私訊我告訴你閱讀後的想法 🙌🏻
We often hear people say that we should love ourselves, believe in ourselves, and be ourselves.
I know these things are important. I just do not always know how to put them into practice.
When someone is going through a difficult period, dissatisfied with who they are, and finding even getting out of bed exhausting, asking them to suddenly start “loving themselves” can feel like asking far too much.
The same is true of believing in yourself.
Sometimes, we simply do not have confidence.
When facing something we have never done before, we do not know whether we are capable of doing it well. Even after preparing as thoroughly as possible, we still worry about failure. We look at other people who seem to be moving forward much faster than we are, and inevitably begin to wonder whether we are the only ones still standing in the same place.
At times like these, repeating “Believe in yourself” can feel more like self-deception than encouragement.
Recently, I came across another idea.
It is not quite the same as loving yourself or believing in yourself, but it may offer a similar—and perhaps even steadier—kind of strength.
That idea is self-respect.
You do not necessarily have to like who you are right now. Nor do you have to feel confident that you will eventually succeed.
But you can still choose to take your life seriously.
You can be willing to work toward the person you want to become, while also refusing to rush into self-condemnation when you fail.
This may sound somewhat abstract, but it is something every one of us encounters.
Every day, we make decisions about whether or not to respect ourselves.
When you decide to start writing, exercising, learning a new skill, or preparing for an important exam, you will probably begin by setting yourself a few goals.
Read a certain number of pages today. Exercise several times a week. Practice for a certain amount of time every day.
When we make these plans, we are usually full of ideals and imagination about our future selves.
But actually beginning is often the hardest part.
Even after we finally get started, the tasks on our lists gradually become a source of pressure. Something we originally wanted to do turns into another reason to criticise ourselves every day.
We fail to do it today and decide we are not disciplined enough.
We stop for a few days and begin to suspect that we never had any perseverance in the first place. Sometimes, we simply give up altogether.
Without realizing it, we may also begin to understand discipline as a form of self-coercion: no matter how exhausted we are, we must drag ourselves out of bed at six in the morning; no matter how poor our condition is, we must complete the original plan.
It is as though success requires us to ignore our feelings and sacrifice ourselves in order to finish everything.
But I no longer think this is what real discipline looks like.
Discipline is not forcing yourself to do things you hate. Nor is it refusing to tolerate any disruption to your schedule.
It is the willingness to spend time and effort gradually moving toward the person you want to become.
You continue practizing not because someone is standing beside you and watching, and not because you want to prove that you are working harder than everyone else.
You do it because this genuinely matters to you.
You know that the time you invest now may not produce an immediate reward, but it will slowly shape the person you become in the future. So even if you can only do a little today, you still choose to do it. Even if you stop for a few days, you are willing to return.
The heart of this kind of discipline is not control, but commitment.
As James Clear writes in Atomic Habits:
“Every action you take is a vote for the type of person you wish to become.”
When someone repeatedly honors the promises they have made to themselves, what they gain is not necessarily limited to better grades, a healthier body, or some visible achievement they can display to others.
They are also building something more important: trust in themselves.
You begin to understand that you are not someone who only thinks about doing things.
You know that you may move slowly, and that you will sometimes avoid things or become lazy, but eventually, you will return to the path you want to follow.
It is not about doing everything perfectly every day.
It is about not giving up too easily on the person you want to become.
But effort alone is not enough.
Even after working hard, we can easily judge our worth entirely by the outcome.
Only when we pass the exam do we believe the effort was worthwhile.
Only when we are offered the position do we believe we are capable.
Only when people read what we have written do we feel that perhaps we really do have the right to continue creating.
When the outcome falls short of our expectations, it is easy to conclude, “Perhaps everything I did before was a waste.”
This is also why many people remain unable to respect themselves, despite how hard they have worked.
They allow themselves to receive affirmation only when the result is success.
When they fail, they assume they must not have done enough or worked hard enough.
Of course, results matter.
But not everything in life operates as an equal exchange. In fact, I believe there are very few situations in which effort and results are directly proportional.
Some forms of effort do need to produce tangible results. Some failures genuinely indicate that we were underprepared or that our methods need to change.
But outcomes should not become the only lens through which we see ourselves.
No outcome is determined solely by how much one person has given.
Timing, circumstances, resources, luck, and even other people’s decisions all influence what eventually happens.
What we can control is how we face it.
You worried that you were not prepared enough, but submitted the application anyway.
You knew you might be rejected, but still expressed what you truly thought.
You prepared for a long time and did not receive the result you wanted. You allowed yourself to feel disappointed for a while, and then chose to adjust and begin again.
These things may never appear on a résumé. Other people may never see them.
But that does not make them unimportant.
If we respect ourselves only when we win, then what we actually respect is not ourselves, but external approval.
We cannot look only at where we eventually arrived.
We must also see the person who endured disappointment along the way and stood up again and again.
Of course, not every failure has to be romanticized as “the best thing that could have happened.”
Some experiences are simply terrible.
Some rejections will not suddenly reveal a mysterious meaning several years later. Some efforts may genuinely have been directed toward the wrong thing.
Even so, an experience can still help us see ourselves more clearly:
“So this mattered to me more than I realized.”
“So this kind of life is not right for me.”
“I thought I would not be able to endure it, but somehow, I made it through.”
Experiences are not always gifts.
But we can choose not to let them become reasons to deny our own worth.
That, too, is a form of self-respect.
Self-respect also means refusing to make decisions that betray who you are, again and again, simply to please other people.
This does not mean that we should care only about ourselves from now on or refuse to accommodate anyone else.
We live within relationships, and relationships naturally require compromise. Sometimes, we do more because we care about the other person. Sometimes, we temporarily place our own needs second because that is a choice we have consciously made.
The problem is not compromise itself.
The problem is whether we have become accustomed to using compromise as a way of obtaining other people’s approval.
We do not want to agree, but force ourselves to say yes.
We are deeply hurt, but always insist that it is fine.
We know something violates our beliefs, but because we are afraid of disappointing someone, we tell ourselves to endure it a little longer.
We believe this will preserve the relationship, or at least prevent conflict.
But inwardly, we recognise every moment in which we betray our own feelings.
Over time, what becomes damaged is not only our boundaries with other people, but also our trust in ourselves.
You gradually realise that whenever someone else’s expectations conflict with your own feelings, the first person you abandon—the first person expected to compromise—is often yourself.
Respecting yourself does not mean stubbornly insisting that you are always right.
Nor does it mean disguising selfishness as being true to yourself.
It means being willing to honestly acknowledge what you are sacrificing when you make an important decision.
Some things can be compromised.
But some things cannot be repeatedly traded away in exchange for a brief moment of peace.
We cannot demand that everyone understand us. Nor can we guarantee that no one will feel disappointed after we maintain a boundary.
But at the very least, we do not have to force ourselves to satisfy everyone until we become someone we no longer recognise.
By this point, self-respect may begin to sound like another strict demand.
We must be disciplined. We must face failure. We must defend our principles.
It can feel like yet another set of standards we are required to meet.
But I believe that genuine self-respect also includes something that is often overlooked:
Accepting that, right now, you are simply not doing well.
We find it easy to respect the version of ourselves who performs well.
The version who succeeds at work, takes care of other people, and handles problems competently.
But when we are exhausted, anxious, and unable to summon the energy to do anything, we simply label ourselves a failure.
Yet respecting a person should include respecting their limitations.
We would not ask someone with a fever to run a marathon. Nor would we decide that a friend had become permanently useless simply because they were going through a difficult period.
So why, when it comes to ourselves, do we assume that the version of us who is struggling no longer deserves care?
Rest is not the opposite of discipline.
In some ways, it is a more difficult form of discipline.
You have to admit that you really are exhausted. You have to let go of the fantasy that everything will be fine as long as you push yourself a little further. You also have to tolerate the anxiety of temporarily making no progress and being unable to prove yourself.
Recovery takes time.
Self-respect is neither endlessly demanding more from yourself nor indulging yourself without limits.
It includes both of these truths:
I am willing to take responsibility for my life.
And at the same time, I am willing to acknowledge that I am a human being who becomes tired, frightened, and limited.
I will not abandon every promise I have made to my future simply because I am not doing well today.
But neither will I push myself to the breaking point merely to prove that I am disciplined.
Through continuous self-exploration, I have come to see that we can think of ourselves as someone we will have to work with for the rest of our lives.
And if we are going to work with someone for a lifetime, we would not lie to them every day or constantly ask them to put everyone else first.
We would not stand beside them only when they perform well, then despise them when they fail and criticize them when they can no longer keep moving.
We would have expectations of them, but we would also give them room to recover.
Respect is not a feeling we passively wait to experience.
It is a choice we can make today.
And when these choices have accumulated for long enough, perhaps one day we will naturally begin to believe:
Whatever happens next, the person least likely to give up on me will be me.
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