Happy New Year, friends! One of my new year’s resolutions is to get back on track with my #ordained ministry and post a new Sunday Sermon each week. Look at this! So far I’m one for one! If this becomes as successful as all of my previous new year’s rezzies, you can expect this to last at least until almost February. Ok, here we go:
During a recent flight I was watching the movie The Devil Wears Prada for the first time as a real adult. I hadn’t seen it since it came out during my mid-20s, when I was technically an adult, but not a good one. Now older and wiser I was horrified to realize that the real devil of this movie is actually not the Prada-wearer, but Andy’s shitty boyfriend Nate. He’s immature, selfish, and condescending. (Example Nate line TO HIS GIRLFRIEND: “You got a job at a fashion magazine? What was it, a phone interview?”) The longer the movie went on, the more disgusted I became at Adrian Grenier’s character. What a little effing baby.
I started taking notes of all his misdeeds for an essay tentatively titled “Andy’s boyfriend in The Devil Wears Prada sucks.” Luckily I had also typed a quick reminder for when the flight landed: “Look this up to see if it has been done before.”
Once on the ground with a data connection, I quickly learned that ha, yes, this idea has been done, again and again and again over the past 15+ years. It even made news as recently as 2021 when Adrian Grenier publicly conceded that Nate was the true villain of the movie. (See attached screen grabs for just a small smattering of all these not-so-hot takes). While this validated my own feelings, sadly I really had nothing new to add to the “Nate Sucks” campaign that had already been waged and won.
The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized a higher truth: It’s time for us to forgive Nate, as we forgive the Nate in ourselves.
Here’s the thing: Nate was supposed to be like 23 in this movie. 23-year-olds are idiots. The reason Nate's horribleness didn't register the first time I watched the movie was because I was around the same age as Nate. I was probably like “Yeah, this seems about right. Anne Hathaway is the selfish one!” Such an idiot. (If you’re 23 and reading this and thinking “Hey, I’m not an idiot,” one day you will realize that you were. And that’s ok! I’m sure in 20 years I will read this and think, “God what an idiot.” 'Tis the circle of life.)
I’m assuming that when the now almost-40-year-old Nate thinks back to this time in his life, he’s totally mortified about his behavior. But I’m also hoping he has forgiven himself, having compassion for the insecure, inexperienced young man he used to be. It would be so sad to me if Nate was still beating himself up over stupid things he said or did so long ago. I’m hoping this fictional character quickly learned from his mistakes and moved on with his life, emerging a better romantic partner for future fictional love interests in the process.
But this obviously isn’t just about Nate. We've all acted like Nate. I’m really thankful that the entire world never got to watch a Hollywood movie showcasing my worst moments while in my twenties (or thirties for that matter) and then write mean Tweets and think-pieces about it on the internet ever since. Yet for some reason I essentially write clickbait about myself in my own head regularly like “Ten Reasons Cori’s Boyfriend Sucked” Or “Why Derek’s Friend Sucked in All. The. Ways.” Or “You’ll Never Believe How Much This Grandson Sucked!” These rabbit holes are tough to avoid going down. Thus, I tend to carry around a lot of Unhelpful Guilt. (Not to be confused with Helpful Guilt).
According to my therapist (and whatever psychologist she got this from) Unhelpful Guilt is “a feeling of psychological discomfort about something we’ve done against our irrationally high standards. It leads us to emphasize self-punishment over behavior change, and so we become trapped in guilt.” See? Unhelpful.
If this sounds familiar to you, I want to remind you that you’re a good person and that everyone makes mistakes. As you dive into this new year, try to go easier on yourself, practice self-compassion, and forgive yourself for things that may have violated your own irrationally high standards.
If that seems vague, here are a few concrete things you can try that have helped me shed some Unhelpful Guilt:
1. Writing a heartfelt apology letter to the person you believed you’ve wronged. Really set aside some time and write down everything you’d want to say. And then don’t send it. Surprise! It’s a journal entry! They don’t need a reminder of what you did (as they probably don't think about it), and you need your own forgiveness more than you need theirs. This can help unload a lot of emotional baggage.
2. Talking to trusted friends and family about what’s causing you to feel so guilty and watching them, like, kinda laugh and shrug and still love you the same amount, if not more.
3. Practicing self-compassion. If it feels difficult to do this, try having compassion for the little kid version of yourself. You can even look at an old photo. (I think I learned this trick from a meditation app several years ago). It’s hard to be upset at a cute little kid that doesn’t know any better. And then extrapolating that, you could also imagine yourself in thirty or forty years looking back at you now. You’d probably think the same thing: “Cute little kid. Doesn’t know any better.”
Recently reflecting on his role, Adrian Grenier told Entertainment Weekly, "Nate hadn't grown up, but Andy had… He couldn't support her like she needed because he was a fragile, wounded boy."
Do we really want to stay mad at a fragile, wounded boy?
I forgive you, Nate, as I forgive the Nate in myself.
~Rev. Matthew R Houchin #Ordained Minister