Improve or Make Peace with Yourself?
By Pernille Plantener, Founder / Lead-trainer of the NBC Institute, Certified trainer in Non-violent Communication, Coach, Resonant Healing Practitioner Read about Pernille here
As a teenager, I hated myself. I remember sitting in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at my own reflection with aversion, and saying aloud:
“I hate you! I hate you!”
It was as if a part of me found the me I showed to the world so far below standards that it wanted to create a tangible distance from my everyday self. I hated myself for my eating disorder. For my social awkwardness. For not being popular. For self-righteously trying to claim my place.
I threw myself into psychotherapy, development groups, retreats, yoga, and meditation — thirsty for tools to change myself. And I did change. I became less hateable, more tolerable in my own eyes.
But today I know: I took the longest possible detour before realizing it was never about changing myself. It was about finding my way home to the one I had always been.
The Self-Improvement Trap
My story is far from unique. As a coach, I’ve met dozens—if not hundreds—of clients with a self-improvement agenda. They might not hate themselves, but they carry an innate sense of being fundamentally wrong and needing to fix themselves.
Take Peter, for example.
Peter is a conscientious electrician, always in close dialogue with his customers, eager to fix things even beyond the task at hand. He came to me wanting to improve his efficiency because his boss criticized him for spending too much time on jobs without billing for it. His family was also unhappy about his late work hours—some unpaid—which added to his stress. Peter knew his pattern and blamed himself for being “too good” to his customers. He told himself daily that he “should care less,” “be tougher,” and “just be more like his senior colleagues.” But nothing changed. At age 47, his inner critic had been running this script for decades. He came to me hoping I could strengthen his commitment to change.
The Double Hamster Wheel
What I saw was a double emotional hamster wheel:
The inner wheel: his compulsion to please everyone.
The outer wheel: his relentless self-judgment for doing so.
We worked on his people-pleasing habit and the fear that drove it — the fear of what might happen if he didn’t do his utmost to satisfy everyone. That fear was rooted in his past. As a coach, I know the past lives on in the present until the pain is acknowledged and held with care. Together, we explored the loneliness and sensitivity that had never been recognized. We also worked on his self-blame and his longing to act from inner drive rather than external expectations. This brought temporary relief, but soon he was back in the double hamster wheel.
The Turning Point: Grief and Self-Compassion
Change began when Peter saw the nature of this inner dynamic. When he realized how hard he was trying to be someone he wasn’t, he glimpsed self-compassion — as if watching a poor animal trapped in a wheel. He felt a surge of sorrow. He didn’t leave the session cheerful; instead, he entered a period of grief. While life went on, he carried a heavy heart. None of us knew where this would lead, and I must say, I had my worries about him, but I trusted this was the breakthrough to more freedom of choice.
Grief is the cleansing solvent for the difficulties we’ve endured. When we grieve what cannot be changed, we get to arrive in the present moment. We acknowledge our younger selves, as a caring grandparent might hold a child — patiently, tenderly.
A New Kind of Freedom
Eventually, Peter landed on his own feet. He began feeling himself when faced with decisions — whether to give a customer extra time, whether to take the blame for being late. Choices that had never been available suddenly became options. He found his composure, as if stepping into self-defined maturity. His relationships improved along with his newfound dignity.
This client, constructed based on several client stories, reminds me of one of my favorite quotes:
“The curious paradox is that once I accept myself as I am, then I can change.”
—Carl Rogers
A Word to My Younger Self
These days, I often reach back through time and stand behind my 17-year-old self in front of the mirror. I say:
“Dear Pernille, is it so unbearable to be you? Is this the best way you can find relief—to show yourself contempt? Does it confirm your inner experience of never belonging, so at least having this point straight and giving up hope that it would ever be different, feels like a guidepost?”
“Yes,” the teenager sobs.
“I love you, Pernille. With your awkwardness, your stuffing and puking, your bottomless loneliness—I love it all. And you know what? I’m your future Self. I know that things will change and you’ll find your dignity in being exactly who you are. Ain’t that surprising? And I’ve got your back till then.”
Why I Do This Work
Today, I’m deeply grateful that my suffering became the soil for Needs-Based Coaching. These programs aim to bring relief, ease, and dignity to people who suffer from internalized violence.
Our programs don’t just change our students — they equip them to stay present and to midwife their clients and friends toward self-acceptance and belonging. Because we all deserve to know: we belong to this world, exactly as we are.
If this reflection resonates with you, and you’d like to explore how coaching can bring more ease and dignity—both for yourself and those you support—you’re warmly invited to learn more about our Needs-Based Coaching programs.
We don’t promise quick fixes. We offer a space for growth, presence, and compassion—because real change begins with acceptance.
Discover our programs here: