When Your Inner Critic Takes the Mic
Last week was Halloween and the 12th anniversary of my massive brain stroke. In a LIVE video on Substack, I said it was my 13th — simple math. I still got it wrong.
When I realized what I had done, I felt that old familiar flush of embarrassment. The one that crawls up your neck and whispers, “How could you mess that up?” My inner critic sprinted in wearing tap shoes. The bitch…
It would have been easy to apologize, explain myself, and justify why I said the wrong year. I almost did.
Then my accountability buddy, Brad Did, said something that made me laugh out loud. “Look at it this way. You’re way ahead of the game. You pre-recorded next year’s video.”
The moment he said it, I exhaled. The pressure popped like a soap bubble. All that worry dissolved with one tiny shift in thought and a good laugh.
That’s the power of self-talk. One turn of the thought and your whole body lets go.
The Exercise I Planned to Give
During that bare-faced LIVE video… let me stress bare-faced and unscripted… I gave you a mini-exercise. If you choose to accept it, I asked you to write a letter to your inner critic.
And then something happened that even surprised me. A sentence slipped out of my mouth that I had never said out loud before.
The Many Voices Living in Your Head
I told you my inner critic has many genders. He. She. They. Sometimes, it’s an It. Some voices sound like mine. Others are strangers. Most are from long ago.
Many are accusing. Some are flat-out abusive. A few are ridiculous. But all of them came from somewhere… else.
As I was recording the video, I realized something I had known but never consciously recognized.
Much of my self-talk began in early childhood. Things I overheard. Things directed at me.
Things shouted in rooms where I learned to stay small; otherwise, I got the belt.
And here is the strangest part. A huge chunk of my inner chatter comes from movies, TV shows, and even commercials I watched as a kid.
Lines spoken by heroes that lodged themselves in my subconscious. Whole monologues I absorbed without meaning to.
When I think back to 1955, this surfaces: “Crest has been shown to be an effective decay preventive dentifrice when used in a conscientiously applied program of oral hygiene and regular professional care.”
That literally came out of my mouth when Mama asked me what I had seen on TV that day. Crazy — isn’t it? I remember a commercial word-for-word that I saw over seventy years ago. Who does that!?
We live vicariously through heroes on TV, in movies, and even in commercials.
Heroes… It’s always great to be the hero at the end of the story… but in the middle, let’s be real. They fall out of love, they lose their whole family, they get shot, stabbed, they’re the victim. In the middle of the story, being the hero really sucks.
Writing this, I realize that I remembered the middle of the stories and forgot the end.
In relationships, we remember the bad and forget the good. It depends on where you are in your story. Some days you are the hero, and some days you are the victim.
We write our own stories inside our minds, and we borrow the voices our subconscious hears.
We carry them for years. Sometimes decades. We let them narrate our lives even when they have no right to hold the pen.
You may think your inner critic is “you.” But often she is a collage of other people’s lines. Old directors. Old teachers. Old heartbreaks. Old scenes from a show you forgot you watched.
Stop taking ownership of someone else’s storyline.
You Hold the Pen
Here’s the gift in realizing that.
If those voices were learned, they can be unlearned. If they were borrowed, they can be returned.
If they were written into your story, you can rewrite the past and craft the next chapter you desire.
On days when your inner critic is a monster, she is often a misunderstood narrator with an outdated script. Even so, she can still be a bitch.
So stand up for yourself. Tell her who you are.
Writing this, I was going to tell you to be gentle and write her a letter, but I was trying to coddle. And I’m done with that.
That’s not me anymore.
Flip that bitch.
Stop it!
I realized that if I’d written her a kind letter when I had my stroke, I would still be muted.
When your inner voice gives you a warning, it’s probably a good thing to listen.
But if she’s dissing you, it’s OK to disagree.
I have learned that when my inner voice is on a roll, it’s probably not a good thing. I don’t have to be nice. It’s OK to say, “STOP IT!”
While you appreciate her opinion (sometimes…), it’s outdated. It’s not you.
Instead, tell her the story you’re choosing to live, because you can rewrite your life one chapter at a time.
The Door Opens
That simple act opens a door. A door that leads to the companion guidebook I have coming your way. A door that leads to the self-talk that saved my life.
Looking back to that moment twelve years ago, my stroke gave me every reason never to speak again. But when I chose to write a different chapter, my voice returned. To the doctor’s surprise, I was speaking clearly in three days.
We begin again every time we choose to write our story on our terms and keep that inner bitch from hijacking the conversation in our mind.
Be brave. Tell me this.
What does your inner critic sound like? Is she supporting you? Is she complimenting you, or telling you that you can’t do it?
What is your inner bitch saying to you today?
