The Clone Test
The quiet ripple of our insecurities
The other day, I was leading my first “new team” meeting. We don’t do icebreakers anymore, we do connection moments, so I pulled a card from one of those get-to-know-you decks.
The question was: “What would your relationship be with your clone?”
Without missing a beat, I said,
“Honestly? Hanging out with me all day sounds exhausting.”
Half the team gasped. Well… so much for appearing well-adjusted. Most of them said a clone would be like hanging out with their best friend. Someone who understands you perfectly.
I blinked.
Exhausting? That answer had come out fast. Too fast.
Later that day, walking down the street, I noticed something unsettling. Every person I passed, Georges (my inner ‘critical’ brain), had commentary:
Too loud.
Too flashy.
Too sloppy.
Too try-hard.
Too something.
I didn’t know a single one of them.
“Georges,” I finally said internally, “you need to cool it. What is going on?”
So I forced myself to find one kind thing about each person I passed:
Nice posture.
Great coat.
Confident stride.
Kind eyes.
Georges was not thrilled. But eventually, she quieted. Bliss.
When I got home, I realized I was tired and a little on edge. And then it hit me. I had been talking to myself the exact same way all day.
You didn’t send that email.
You forgot to sign the kids up for summer camp. (January deadline though, seriously?!)
You still haven’t reordered that cream Lou needs.
Your jeans feel tight.
The list of how I had fallen short was endless. And suddenly, the picture was crystal clear: the meaner I am to myself, the meaner I am to the world. It’s almost mechanical. Insecurity goes out hunting.
On days when I feel strong in my body and clear in my head, I float a little. I notice people without dissecting them. I see instead of projecting my insecurities onto them. On days when Georges is driving? It’s brutal out there.
The standards I hold myself to can be wildly unhealthy. I know this. I’m working on it. But when my friends are hard on themselves? I want to grab them by the shoulders and shout: “Give yourself a hug. You are freaking amazing.”
And the thing is, I’m not exaggerating. They are incredible humans.
Why is that compassion so easy to extend outward and so hard to turn inward? Why would hanging out with my clone be exhausting… instead of delightful?
So here’s what I’m experimenting with: actual self-support. The psychological kind. And yes, the physical kind. Giving myself a hug. (It’s awkward for three seconds and then surprisingly grounding.) Looking in the mirror and saying something kind before Georges starts its audit. Before a big meeting, I cheer for myself the way I cheer from the sidelines of my kids’ game.
The world doesn’t get nicer because everyone else improves. It gets nicer when we deal with what’s uncomfortable in ourselves instead of spotting it in everyone else.
Pay attention next time you make a cutting comment, even just in your head. Pause for a second. What did that person mirror back to you? And instead of attacking it out there, try turning toward it in here. Give that insecure little corner some air. Some compassion. Maybe even a hug.
Because judgment is often just self-protection with better lighting.
So yes … consider this a gentle public service announcement:
Let’s love ourselves a little better.
Let’s deal with our own discomfort.
Then let’s go about our day letting people be who they are.
It’s amazing how much lighter the world feels when we’re not outsourcing our insecurities.
