Your Most Important Relationship
- Dr Em Wong
- Aug 1
- 6 min read
Updated: Aug 2
I’ve always considered myself a giver. Prioritizing the needs of others has always come easily. What I didn’t realize until recently, is that this instinct didn’t happen by accident. I was simply a product of my upbringing. I’d been indoctrinated with familial and cultural beliefs from the moment of birth.
My parents and grandparents had taught me what it meant to be a “good girl”—how to act and dress, how to be of service, and what to think. Countless generations have handed down these “should scripts” that dictated proper behavior, and I learned to believe that the only way to truly belong was by following them faithfully.
Hustling for worthiness
Social programming is the system of beliefs, roles, and expectations that we inherit from our families, cultures, and society. As with most other Asian women, I grew up with an internalized script or rulebook of “shoulds” telling me how to be “good” and “deserving” of love. Our family rules said things like, “Girls should be quiet and docile,” “Obey your elders,” and, of course, “Always put family first.”
People pleasing is how we behave in order to comply with the rulebook. I would make myself small and quiet, say “yes” when I meant “no,” and believe that it was my fault if anyone got mad (which happened all the time).
Most of us learn that we can only fit in by doing what others expect of us
I carried my “should-scripts” with me to school but often felt even more confused. The four schools that I attended over the years in Hong Kong and the U.S. all had different sets of rules. And of course, kids always have unwritten codes of conduct that have little to do with school rules. Fitting in and reconciling conflicting rules often meant showing up as different versions of myself at home and at school.
When I started medical school, I learned a whole new set of rules that we now call the “hidden curriculum” of medical training. These included unspoken expectations about race and gender roles, power dynamics within the academic hierarchy, and the true nature of altruism. I learned what it takes to succeed, always eager to produce over and beyond whatever was needed, in order to gain approval and belonging.
I had gotten used to that background hum of stress and anxiety, believing that it was completely normal for all women doctors and moms. Weren’t we supposed to always be hustling to gain approval, so that we could be judged as worthy? Professor Brené Brown teaches that most of us learn from an early age that we have to constantly work to earn acceptance or validation by doing what others expect of us.
We become so accustomed to these norms that it’s hard for us to see them as being optional. In fact, that mindset is simply our reality and thus invisible—like the water that surrounds a fish. My years in academic medicine were all about overcommitting because I was continually striving to be “enough.” I thought I was being authentic, but the truth was that I barely even knew who I was any more.
Getting to know me
Looking back over these past few years of being a coach, I have to say that the most precious gift I’ve gained is in understanding the value of self worth. I used to think that self worth was the same thing as self esteem, but they’re quite distinct.
Self esteem is our belief in our own abilities. So my self esteem was tied up with having a successful career in academic medicine, two wonderful kids, and a comfortable home. I believed that I only mattered because of what I did or had accomplished.
Self worth is the core belief that we are inherently worthy, simply because of who we are. Our babies are all born into the world believing in their lovability, but somewhere during childhood they begin to learn that love has to be earned.
As I went through coach training, I began to learn about unwritten rulebooks and self worth. I saw that it was incredibly common to have high self esteem but fragile self worth — especially for high-functioning and successful people used to putting others first.
I checked ALL the boxes that identify people with low self worth:
✅Overly self-critical (i.e. judging self to never be good enough, no matter how much is accomplished)
✅Anxious when others are upset, even when not at fault
✅Incapable of setting boundaries and/or feeling guilty about having needs
✅Constantly comparing self with others and feeling “behind”
✅Uncomfortable accepting compliments, deflecting or minimizing at every opportunity
✅Feeling inadequate (i.e. imposter syndrome)
I found coaching other doctors and health professionals to be incredibly healing, because that’s when I began to see that I was far from being alone. The process of social programming is virtually universal, irrespective of gender or race.
We’d all been taught to put the rulebooks first, whether they were the rulebooks of medical culture, family, or society. What we hadn’t realized was that blindly accepting the authority of those “should-scripts” meant that we were abdicating our own authority.
Self worth is the core belief that we are inherently lovable
I came to see that, of course, I hadn’t always just blindly accepted rulebooks—I’d naturally edited and adapted to juggling different rulebooks. And I’d had many moments of rebellion over the years too. But coaching helped me see that I needed to begin writing my own rulebook—figuring out which rules I wanted to keep and which ones to cross out with my red pen and sense of humor.
Self worth informs our relationships with others
One of the most powerful assignments I received early in my coach training was to write a love letter to myself. I had always dismissed the concept of self love as being too narcissistic, but it turns out self love is rooted in humility and acceptance, whereas narcissism is based in insecurity and the need to prove superiority.
When I first sat down to fill out the prompt, Dear Em, I love you because…, I was overwhelmed with an unexpectedly intense wave of emotion. I couldn’t identify where the tears were coming from. It wasn’t until much later that I recognized them as tears of grief and longing, mingled with the relief that I was finally getting permission to love and accept myself.
I’ve come to see that my relationship with myself is the most important relationship I’ll ever have—because it shapes how I show up in every part of my life. Prior to that, I’d never understood the concept of how self compassion enables us to show more compassion to others. After all, I’d prided myself on being an empathic and compassionate doctor for decades.
What I learned is that being more understanding and accepting of my flaws allowed me to drop my defensiveness. I was naturally more forgiving of myself and others’ shortcomings, seeing with humility that we’re all engaged in our own struggles. I learned to sit with uncomfortable emotions without needing to fix them or run away.
I came to see that my inner coach brought natural balance to my inner critic. And when I stopped requiring myself to be impossibly perfect, I also became more understanding of other people’s imperfections.
Another insight I gained in doing this work was that doctors are required to wear a kind of armour to protect ourselves from getting too attached to our patients. The pride that’s born from self esteem allows us to hold ourselves aloof from caring too much. Empathy helps us to be more compassionate, but we have to be willing to drop some self esteem in favor of self worth, if we want to access emotional generosity and true altruism.
Our relationship with ourselves is the most important relationship we’ll ever have
It’s definitely still a work in progress, but I’m continuing to build my sense of self- worth through self-compassion. Because while relationships with others will shift over time, it’s important to ensure we each have our own solid foundation of trust, respect, and kindness with ourselves. This foundation forms the basis for the strength and resilience needed to quiet our inner critics, honor our own needs, and live in alignment with what matters most.
It’s how we get better at being able to set healthy boundaries, navigate challenges, and pursue what’s meaningful—with courage and clarity. And because I know that my relationship with myself is grounded in care and acceptance, it has become a source of enduring wisdom and peace on the journey to my 100th birthday.
Dr Em coaching tips
Love Letter to Self Exercise
On a blank page, write the words, “Dear [your name], I love you because….” Set your timer and write for at least 5 minutes, listing at least 10 attributes or describing situations in which you showed up in ways that made yourself proud.
Reading back through these stories (aka. reasons to love yourself), what patterns or clues help you to see your inner mentor showing up?
