I Was Wrong About Stoicism

When it comes to things I care about, I feel my feelings very deeply. If I see a video of a rescue dog recuperating on Instagram, I might shed a few tears. I also would when my previous partners displayed heartfelt actions, like writing beautiful words on a card or buying me flowers. 

My ex-boyfriend was the exact opposite. Throughout our relationship, he put on a show of equanimity—I never saw him particularly sad, angry, or happy. He was just level-headed at all times. 

Part of me was jealous, particularly when I found myself in bouts of emotional swings. The other part of me didn’t have any interest in trading in my highs and was secretly smug when he developed chronic back pain, which I always theorized had to do with emotional suppression. (Don’t get me wrong—I always wanted him to heal physically and reconnect with a normal emotional spectrum). 

As I began to delve more into the personal growth sphere, I came to think that his behavior was an accidental practice of stoicism. In my mind, stoicism was essentially a practice designed to mitigate emotions—the purpose was to get rid of these ‘distracting’ swings in search of eternal serenity. 

And I thought it was bullshit. Wasn’t it just an attempt to skirt emotional accountability by absolving yourself of any role in others’ emotional well beings? 

So when the Instagram advertisement for a talk in my hometown given by one of the leading thinkers in modern stoicism—Ryan Holiday—popped up, my first instinct was to roll my eyes.

But for some reason, my thumb hovered over the ad. If I’m going to be going around criticizing stoicism, shouldn’t I at least put an effort into educating myself straight from the source? 

Screw it, I thought, and bought two tickets. 

Sitting in the packed theater at the start of the show, my expectations were still dangling near rock-bottom. But when Ryan came out, my energy immediately shifted—he had a quirky, likable charm that drew me right in. 

For the next two hours, I was completely blown away. I sat there furiously attempting to take notes in the dark auditorium, just hoping my handwriting would be semi-legible at the end. 

The truth is, I had it all wrong. I had inadvertently conflated stoicism with a practice that’s been sarcastically labeled as broicism. What exactly is broicism? The Summit Pinnacle summarized it well: 

“Above all, the power—or so it seems—of broicism is a broics ability to be unaffected. Unconcerned with loss or setback, a good Broic can walk headfirst into a metaphorical firestorm and come out without a scratch.”

Needless to say, I learned that stoicism has nothing to do with being impervious to emotional reactions. And, over the coming weeks, I’m excited to share the learnings I gained from the lecture on true stoicism. 

But I wanted to start here—with the acknowledgement that if I hadn’t taken the time to learn more about this concept that I judged from the get-go, not only would I have continued spreading misinformation but I also would’ve missed out on the rich and vast lessons that the stoics have crafted over centuries. 

So, note to self: continue to educate yourself, challenge your beliefs, and keep an open mind. You never know what you’ll uncover.