I’m not a psychologist. I’m someone who got a little obsessed with this idea while building a journaling app. Along the way, I kept bumping into a concept that psychology has been studying for decades. Here’s what I’ve learned, and what I’ve noticed.
The compliment I couldn’t quite accept
When I became a mom a little over two and a half years ago, I noticed something peculiar about the compliments I started receiving. “You’re doing so well, mama.” It’s a common thing mothers say to each other in those early years, and I don’t dislike it. I’ve caught myself saying it to other moms too. I just found it strangely hard to receive.
Growing up, compliments came after something was finished. You get the degree, you get the “well done.” Nobody tells you you’re doing well at reading while you’re still reading for the exam. The results decide that later. So when people told me I was doing well barely a year into motherhood, some internally motivated part of me quietly resisted. Are you sure? What criteria are you even using?
Even from my husband, who sees me daily and is arguably qualified to judge, I still couldn’t quite take it in. As a big-picture person, some part of me wanted to hold off on any verdict until much further down the road. Except parenting doesn’t really have a finish line where the results come in. It becomes obvious, fairly quickly, that it’s not an event. It’s a process.
And that’s when it hit me: no one can actually tell you who you are at your core. Except you. No one else gets to decide how you should see yourself. You know. You get to. And I had to work on unlearning the belief I held that compliments are only valid, or should only come, at the end. It was actually a beautiful realization that sometimes the process is as meaningful as the result. Which fits perfectly with the motherhood journey I’m on.
What psychology calls this
It turns out there’s a name for that internal picture: the sum of beliefs, roles, and self-evaluations a person holds about who they are. Psychologists call it self-concept: put simply, self-concept is the overall mental picture you hold of who you are, built from your beliefs, roles, and experiences. It’s been studied seriously since at least the mid-20th century, when Carl Rogers described it as the organized, evolving sense of self a person builds through experience and reflection.
A few distinctions worth knowing, because they get confused constantly:
Self-concept is the whole picture, the umbrella. It’s broad, and it shifts over time.
Self-esteem is how you feel about that picture, the evaluative layer sitting on top of it. Psychologist Nathaniel Branden is probably the name most associated with serious work on self-esteem specifically.
Self-identity is more specific, the particular labels and roles you claim within that bigger picture: mother, builder, writer, whatever applies. You can update your self-concept without abandoning a core identity, and you can take on or shed an identity without your whole self-concept collapsing.
Self-image is a related but narrower piece. It’s usually used for how you picture yourself in a more immediate, often physical or behavioral sense (how you look, how you act), whereas self-concept is the fuller, more layered picture that self-image sits inside of.
There’s also a fourth piece that doesn’t get talked about enough: your ideal self: the version of you that you’re actively growing toward, distinct from who you are today. Psychologist E. Tory Higgins built an entire theory (self-discrepancy theory) around the gap between your current self and your ideal self, and how that gap quietly drives a lot of motivation, for better or worse, depending on how you relate to it.
Why this quietly shapes everything else
I didn’t set out to research any of this formally. I got here by being someone who, for as long as I can remember, has felt an almost compulsive need to periodically evaluate my own life. Randomly. Not because anything’s wrong, but because I can’t seem to sit still in a version of myself for too long without wanting to update something: a mindset, a habit, an assumption I didn’t realize I was carrying.
For a long time I couldn’t find anything that supported that as an ongoing practice rather than a one-time fix. Most self-improvement programs assume everyone starts from the same place, needs the same discipline, and just has to grit through it until they arrive somewhere finished. But change doesn’t look the same for everyone, and the drastic, white-knuckle version of it rarely lasts. What actually matters, more than intensity, is whether you return to the practice after the days you don’t show up perfectly.
That’s really the whole premise self-concept work rests on: you’re not trying to become a different person in one dramatic leap. You’re gently, repeatedly revising the story you’re already telling about who you are. You’re closing that gap between where you are and your ideal self a little at a time, with grace for the days that don’t go well.
How to actually work on your self concept
This part doesn’t require a psychology degree, just consistency:
- Notice the story you’re currently telling about yourself, without immediately trying to fix it. Awareness comes before revision.
- Ask where that story came from. Some of what you believe about yourself was chosen. A lot of it was inherited: from family, from culture, from one offhand comment that stuck.
- Evaluate what’s worth keeping and what needs updating. Not all of it is wrong. Some of that story was earned and is genuinely you, so sort through it honestly before you build anything new.
- Get specific about your ideal self, not as a fantasy, but as a direction, and as an addition to what you’re already keeping. Who are you actually growing toward, in plain language?
- Revisit it regularly, not once. Self-concept isn’t something you fix in a weekend. It’s closer to a practice than a project.
Where Renew90 fits in
This is the exact problem I built Renew90 to hold space for. During onboarding, you answer a set of reflective questions, and from your own answers, the app crafts a written ideal-self anchor, shown to you daily, before you reflect. Not a generic affirmation, yours. People have told me it’s made them cry the first time they saw it, and I understand why: it’s strange and moving to see your own words handed back to you as something worth growing toward.
From there, you’re placed into one of three gentle 90-day arcs: Release, Reaffirm, or Reignition, based on where you honestly are, not where you’re supposed to be. No streaks, no restarts, no performance for an audience. Just the ongoing, unglamorous work of revising your self-concept a little at a time.
FAQ
What is self-concept in psychology? Self-concept is the overall, evolving mental picture a person holds of who they are: built from beliefs, roles, experiences, and self-evaluations. It’s considered dynamic rather than fixed, meaning it changes as you do.
What is the psychology of self, more broadly? “Psychology of self” is a wider umbrella covering how people perceive, evaluate, and construct their own identity, including self-concept, self-esteem, self-awareness, and the ongoing relationship between who you are now and who you’re becoming.
How do you improve your self-concept? Slowly, and mostly through noticing. Start by paying attention to the story you already tell about yourself, question where that story came from, and get specific about the direction you’re actually growing toward, not as a one-time fix, but as something you revisit regularly.
Why is self-concept important? Because it quietly shapes decisions long before you’re consciously aware of them: what you think you’re capable of, what you believe you deserve, what feels “like you” versus what doesn’t. Working on it isn’t vanity; it’s closer to maintenance.
If this resonated, Renew90 Journal is available on iOS and Android.