My inner should-monster
I carry an inner should-monster around with me. As a matter of fact, should-monster are a widespread inner animal species. When kept in unsuitable conditions, they tend to bring their owners one thing above all: misery. So how can we change that?
That’s what I’m here to explain.
First things first: the inner should-monster should not be confused with the inner Schweinehund — a German expression describing the inner resistance or inertia that stops you from doing something you actually intended to do or feel you should do (like exercising). The should-monster does practically the opposite. It stops its owners from being lazy and makes sure they do everything one is supposed to do.
For the longest time, my should-monster appeared to me in the form of an intimidating, merciless judge who whipped me through my daily life while constantly hissing a never-ending to-do list into my ear: Make that doctor’s appointment. Cook something healthy. Sort out your retirement plan. Clean the basement. Floss. And donate to a good cause for once. It also made sure I prepared ridiculously elaborate lunch boxes for my children every morning, quickly vacuumed the floor before online meetings and, above all, said “yes” whenever a colleague asked me for help.
My inner should-monster was constantly putting pressure on me and meticulously making sure I behaved excessively politely. As a result, I was forever apologising — even when someone rammed their shopping trolley into the back of my heels, or when I replied “you too!” a little too quickly after the check-in agent wished me a pleasant flight.
And when everything became too much, my inner should-monster made sure I never asked for help. I wasn’t supposed to be a burden to anyone.
Every evening, when I collapsed into bed completely exhausted, my should-monster would present me with an endless indictment listing everything I had failed to accomplish that day. I listened. And eventually fell asleep in a dirty puddle of guilt and shame.
You can probably see where this is going: if you have a should-monster, you don’t need any enemies.
For a long time, we were constantly at war. I let it chase me through my life, barking orders all the way. Then, a few years ago, when things really hit rock bottom, I grabbed my should-monster one evening, shook it and shouted furiously:
“What do you actually want from me?”
My should-monster tucked its little tail between its legs and looked genuinely shocked by my reaction. It told me that it loved me. And that it was doing all of this because it was trying to protect me. That was the moment I understood: My inner should-monster wasn’t a monster at all. It was the voice of all the rules, expectations and beliefs I had eventually come to mistake for absolute truths. I had assumed that only a productive, considerate and unobtrusive person could be a good person.
What a misunderstanding.
I explained to my should-monster that people are good — just as they are.
And that life is about living, not about getting everything right or wrong.
My should-monster was completely shocked. It retreated and cried. A lot.
I lay down beside it and held it in my arms.
After a while, we picked ourselves up again, shrugged our shoulders and slowly returned to our daily lives. But things were awkward between us. My should-monster seemed at a loss. It wanted to push me forward, but it no longer knew where to. It wanted to stop me from doing the wrong thing — but what exactly was the right thing? So I started researching proper should-monster care and began our training:
Less performance. More humanity.
I explained to my should-monster that its job was to make sure I took enough breaks, said “no” every now and then and set boundaries. It agreed. And after a while, we became a well-functioning team. Misery? Hardly any left.
But my should-monster wouldn’t be my should-monster if it didn’t still give me a little push from time to time. The intimidating, merciless judge has since transformed into a strong, warm-hearted cheerleader. Thanks to its encouragement, I’ve become an expert in proper inner should-monster care — and today, I actually make a living helping other people with it. And I love it.
Every now and then, my should-monster still slips back into its old tone out of habit.
Just now, it barked at me that I should make the ending of this blog post a little easier to understand. I read it again, agreed with it and changed it.
And as I do, I’m gently stroking its back and reminding both of us that neither humans nor should-monsters are perfect.
Do you carry an inner should-monster around with you, too?
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