Lindiwe Suttle Müller-Westernhagen, What Should We Teach Children?

Lindiwe Suttle Müller-Westernhagen: I’m very thankful for it as well.

I always used to think of ego as something negative – connected to selfishness, competitiveness, or even aggression. When I think of spiritual teachers, I hear a specific message – one that says you should let go of your ego as it distances you from your true self. Byron Katie talks about how we are born pure, and then enter the world of ego. As we grow older, we often try to return to that pure self and let go of the ego. Maybe that’s part of the human journey.

Yes, it’s fascinating. If we’re talking about ego in the sense of self-love and empowerment, it becomes something quite different. I feel that as women, we need to embrace our ego more – to believe in ourselves more, to push ourselves more. We’ve been taught to shy away from many things, to be fearful, and that’s where ego can play a positive role. So there seems to be such a thing as a healthy ego. When I think about my husband and his art, I once wondered, “You must have quite a bit of an ego to succeed, right?” He replied, “I have ego in my art, but not with people.” That distinction resonates with me.

Personally, I’ve needed ego to overcome a lack of confidence growing up. But it was more about self-love than ego in the traditional sense. In middle school and high school, I always felt like I wasn’t enough. Fashion became my armor – my ego, in a sense. When I dressed up, I felt like I could conquer the world.

My mom became famous when I was in high school. Suddenly, people were asking for her autograph, even though she wasn’t living with us anymore. She moved to South Africa for a TV show, and my dad raised me and my siblings. I saw my mom’s ego grow in a way that made her seem larger than life. Meanwhile, my dad’s ego suffered. He became “the husband” of this powerful woman. He handled it well, but for me, it was difficult. I felt inadequate. How can you live up to this icon of the country? It didn’t help me feel better about myself. Definitely not.

100%. She was the “Oprah of South Africa,” so I felt like I needed to be the “Oprah of the world.” That pressure was there, not just from her, but from myself. I was always searching for something. My parents instilled in us the idea that we had to do better than them from an early age. That’s probably why I had so many different careers. I worked in fashion, I worked in marketing, I tried singing and songwriting. It wasn’t easy to find my path.

Again, I always felt like I was searching for myself. In high school, white boys would say, “If I date you, my parents will disown me,” and Black guys would prefer lighter-skinned girls. I felt like I don’t have a place, and that insecurity followed me into my relationships. I made bad choices because I was eager for love and acceptance. That made me an easy target for being taken advantage of or mistreated.

I never imagined becoming an artist back then. When I was young, my parents were always like, “You need to go to business school.” And it’s so strange because I was always dancing around the house. Looking back, I think my biggest dream – if I had realized it earlier – was to become a professional dancer. But I only discovered that in my thirties and it was too late.

Definitely. When I wrote my children’s book about a biracial character, I knew it would inspire others. I mean, less than 20% of writers globally are Black women. So, yes, as a Black woman writing in Germany, my success isn’t just mine, but always part of a larger community. At the same time, I want to be seen simply as a writer, not labeled as a “Black writer.” That’s something I wish for all of us: simply to be seen as human beings.

When we first worked together, I was intimidated. I had already released an album, but he encouraged me to record new songs and make some necessary changes. I was hesitant, saying, “I can’t do it,” and he replied, “I don’t want to hear that. I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth.” It was amusing because we were so in love, living in a fairytale world, and I had never heard him sound so strict and serious. It was a bit challenging for me to deal with it. But we have a mutual respect for each other’s art. He knows when to step back and let me do my thing, and I do the same for him. It’s about balance and not letting our egos clash.

With the songs for Naya that we created for the book, I chose not to ask for his opinion because I wanted it to be a personal project. When it came to the book itself, I asked him if he wanted to read it before I send it to the publisher. He replied, “No, I don’t want to read it. It has to come from you. I don’t even want to help with a single line; otherwise, I’ll end up taking over.”

I can now see criticism as an opportunity for growth. But it’s a learning process. Back in the days, when I started my first corporate job as a visual merchandiser, I had a corporate review. This guy began with some positive comments, but when he moved on to things that needed improvement, I just burst into tears. He said, “Oh, my God. You’re not going to make it in this corporate fashion world if you react to criticism like that.”

Remember what I told you? My entire life, I’ve struggled with feelings of not being good enough, so any criticism really hurt me. However, I’ve learned a lot through writing, especially through my fantastic mentor who often tells me, “Look, we’re just trying to create the best product and that’s it.” You can’t be a writer and be too attached to what people think. Some will love it; some won’t. Once I’ve created something, I have to release it into the world and accept that art is subjective.

I don’t have any specific techniques. I just remember something my husband said: “When you create art, some people will throw roses, and some will throw eggs or stones.” I focus on staying true to myself and being happy with the product I’ve created – that’s what is most important.

We’re too focused on our differences. Instead of celebrating what makes us all human, we focus on what separates us. I hope Naya can teach children empathy. I believe that communicating with each other, learning, and approaching people with an open heart and an open mind is the right way to move forward. However, the reality is that this has been the way of the world for a long time. I’m not sure we can truly overcome these differences unless we all look exactly the same – literally identical.

It’s indeed very much for my younger self. At the book launch, a little girl said she was bullied because she is Black. It was heartbreaking, but it proved the importance of the book. I hope it creates even a small change in the world. This is why I write: so that no one else has to feel the way I did growing up. While it’s impossible to shield everyone from pain, we do what we can, little by little. Pain is an inherent part of life, but if my words can help someone, even in a small way, then that makes it all worthwhile.

I think we can’t deny our differences. We come from different backgrounds – my experience growing up in Atlanta is different from yours. But differences should be celebrated, not used to divide us. Let’s use them as an opportunity to learn from one another.

Bullying and exclusion often stem from a lack of self-love. If we can teach children to love themselves and to be grateful for what they have, they won’t feel the need to hurt others. This is what I always teach my niece, too. I tell her that if she faces any problems, she should just believe in herself, and most of those problems will start to disappear. That’s personally how I think we break the cycle: with self-love and gratitude.