Being an Asshole to Yourself is NOT Tough Love
Let's talk about self-talk.
If you think I'm an asshole on the internet, I promise I am 10x worse in my own head.
I used to think I was at my best when I was being the worst to myself inside. I considered it my drive, my ambition, that inner fire that made me succeed. And then one day, it just stopped working. I don’t know how else to describe it. Instead of hyping me up, my self-talk started to beat me the fuck down.
I went from “You can handle a little more” to constantly picking myself apart. I thought I wasn’t articulate enough to be a coach, not creative enough to make videos, not hard-working enough to start my own business, not fit enough to work in fitness, and not brave enough to quit my job.
And the problem with negative self-talk is that it’s never just one thought — it creates a vortex.
The Vortex, Lately
I noticed this most recently as I’ve been learning Lagree.
Lagree, for anyone who doesn't know, is like reformer Pilates on crack. It’s done on a Megaformer and uses this wonky tempo structure where your muscles are fatigued through constant time under tension and very small, slow reps.
I’ve been spending hours in the studio learning the method itself, and then how to coach it to others so I can lead group classes. And to say I’ve been out of my element is a colossal understatement.
A lot of the other coaches have tons of prior experience either in coaching other formats or from taking lots of Lagree. They are also, by nature of always doing Pilates, some of the most beautiful and fit women I’ve ever seen. 100 lbs soaking wet of pure abs. And I wish I could say that didn’t get to me, but of course it does.
I would walk into the studio 3+ times per week, sit on the Megaformer, listen to them run through their practice routines, and drill down into my own spiraling thoughts:
You don’t look like the other coaches. No one will want to take your class if you don’t look like a Pilates girl.
You’re so bad at this. Why can’t you perform like everyone else?
You’d be better if you were more confident. Why the fuck aren't you more confident? You're a business owner and a social media creator and you’re always on camera; this should be easy for you and instead you're just an insecure mess.
…and on and on it would go. I’d get up, do my section, and then wait for feedback. And I noticed something very quickly: I refused to believe the positive feedback I was getting. Almost like my brain had a filter on, I would sift through the positive comments, assume they were ingenuine, and latch onto the tiny bits of criticism because that felt more “real.”
Why It Happens
This is the crux of the human brain. We love — and I mean fucking LOVE — to be right. We seek validation of our existing thoughts and shy away from anything that challenges them. So, when I assumed I was the worst one in the room, I ignored any perspective that contradicted it and amplified any tiny tidbit that reinforced “not good enough.”
For perfectionists, there's a tendency to over-emphasize anxiety and negative self-talk as the reason we succeed. I used to think I needed a deep fear of failure driving me. I also used to conflate “tough love” with just being a dick to myself.
Here’s the bottom line: Negative self-talk is not tough love. It’s not love at all. Tough love motivates you toward a goal. Negative self-talk is the furthest thing from productive.
Self-Talk in Practice
If you don’t believe me, look at professional athletes.
In American football, both teams warm up on the field at once. The QBs never look at each other. They throw across the field, so the other team stays in their periphery, or straight back toward the goalposts. Why? Because there's absolutely no utility in evaluating yourself against your competition in that moment.
The most successful athletes take it a step further: they perfect the skill of short-term memory. They know there will be a time to watch film and recalibrate, but that time is not during the game. In 2017, Tom Brady pulled off the largest comeback in Super Bowl history, scoring 19 points in the fourth quarter to force the game into overtime. Rather than being crushed under the weight of every error, he closed the gap bit by bit. He was the definition of unfaltering — almost irrational — self-belief.
The inverse is also true: extreme negative self-talk can take an undisputed champion and completely wreck their ability to perform.
Look at Simone Biles, the most decorated female gymnast of all time. After dominating for years, the 2020 Olympics hit. During warm-ups she “popped” one vault and then quickly withdrew from the rest of the competition. She said she was experiencing “the twisties,” a psychological phenomenon where you lose spatial awareness mid-air. She could have won gold doing extremely watered-down routines; instead, she had to pull out at massive cost to her team and reputation, because her internal dialogue was a risk to her physical safety on the mat.
It doesn’t have to be a Super Bowl or the Olympics. Every day you create the environment for achievement or atrophy based on your perception of your own competency. Be the 2017 Patriots, not the 2020 Women’s Gymnastics Team.
How to Tell the Difference
Tough love is time-bound, directional, and creates energy for your goals. It may not be fun to hear in the moment, but it yields forward momentum. I give tough love to my clients constantly. But they want it. They pay for it. They seek it out. I tap in and give them the kick in the ass they need; however, I would never send them a disparaging message just to make them feel like shit.
Context matters.
If I tell someone on the internet they’re a fat, lazy piece of shit and need to get their ass up and run, that’s tough love. It’s external, it’s specific, and they can choose to accept it (or tell me to fuck off).
But if I eat a single cookie and then tell myself I’m a fat, lazy piece of shit? That’s not tough love. That’s sabotage. That spirals. Then I feel bad, hit the “fuck it, I’ll start tomorrow” place, and one cookie becomes ten.
So What the Fuck Do I Do?
Now we understand why negative self-talk doesn’t work. But how do you change it without spiraling into obsessing about the self-talk itself and beating yourself up more?
Start by noticing WHERE and WHEN the thoughts begin.
For me, it’s right before I practice in front of the other Lagree coaches.
Where is it for you? The boardroom. The bedroom. The bar. The bench press. That’s your activation zone.
Next time you enter that activation zone, picture yourself holding a lighter.
Your negative self-talk has a fuse — that first shitty thought — leading to a full stash of explosives.
Yes, there’s a small chance you light the fuse, the batch is a dud, and nothing goes off. But those are not odds worth betting on.
The better alternative? Don’t light the fuse in the first place.
Be aware that your brain is going to try to fuck with you. And the minute you feel that first flickering spark, douse it. Smother it. Stop, drop, and fucking roll. Do not let it take hold.
And remember: Immediately before a performance — whatever that is for you — you need irrational self-belief.
Think about the funniest, most compelling, most motivational people — the ones everyone puts Pharell’s “Freedom” behind in hope-core edits on TikTok. Those people stopped giving a fuck about others’ opinions, shut down their own negative thoughts, and executed with 100% conviction.
The asshole in your head — call it anxiety, call it negative self-talk, call it fucking Scott for all I care — did not earn your accomplishments.
You did.
Stop giving the brain gremlin so much credit. See your achievements as they are: a product of you, and only you.
