Letter to my Inner Critic by Jo Hargreves
Dear Inner Critic.
You have been in post for many years now. You are a relentless worker, a loud voice and quite the constant in my life. You have a tendency to steal my joy and distort my perspective on a whole range of things, mostly myself.
You make me feel tired and awkward and a bit less brave; your voice makes me feel uncomfortable in my own skin and when I listen to you I live in a state of anxious voyeurism in which I watch myself being watched. I second-guess myself, I people please and play out conversations and situations in my head over and over with you as the critical and sneering narrator. You are a relentless judge, a mocker-harsh, insensitive.
I am writing to tell you that I will be reducing your working hours considerably until you are no longer in post. I am under no illusion that you will go quietly, you have been in post nearly a lifetime, however as I fill my head and my heart with more truth I don’t think I will be able to hear you so loudly.
Remember the time I really wanted to dance at the wedding? The music played and for a moment I felt a joyful urge to join in but you insisted I would look ridiculous and suddenly I felt huge and cumbersome and like I wouldn’t know how to use my arms and legs if I tried. I listened to you, and I sat back down, smiling and nodding, politely declining any invitations ‘Thanks so much, I will dance in a minute, I just love watching from the sidelines.’ You are always reminding me to keep in the sidelines.
Remember the time I wanted to sing in the school play? The teacher asked for all who could sing to stand up, I so wanted to stand up, I so wanted to sing but you told me it was conceited, prideful, it was brash and nobody likes a brash girl ‘stay sat down’, so I did.
You said that nobody likes loud and brash; tame yourself-nobody likes strong and willful, especially the boys.
The boys; remember when they would throw the girls school bags and project folders on the highest shelf or in the dirtiest bin and we were all meant to find it hilarious as we slipped into our damsel in distress uniforms? Then they would go about retrieving and rescuing whilst we were expected to giggle and marvel at their strength, except I didn’t find it funny. I felt rage at this ridiculous rigmarole that I found myself in, you told me to laugh along, to keep the natural order of things and to keep the peace. Dumb it down brash girl, can’t you see you how opinionated you are, opinions don’t win friends. Don’t Be an irritant, get smaller, get quieter, be just the right amount of invisable and complient if you want to get by, the world does not accept girls like you, laugh along as the boys dip their toes in the patriarchal waters.
I have listened to you too much. You have lied and distorted the truth day in and day out for years and I am done with that now. I no longer want to dumb down or dim down or shut up or shut down. I don’t want to smile and nod and stay silent so that I don’t disturb the peace or the ‘natural order of things’. I feel less need for the approval now, less of an inner desire to be accepted and adored and more comfortable with what it is that I have to offer the World, me, just as I am. You told me that if I didn’t toe the party line or fall into line or if I ever crossed the line that I would be rejected, you told me that I needed to please people and compromise myself, my thoughts, my convictions in order to fit in, you lied. No matter. I have heard from the one who is truth himself, he has spoken words of love and affirmation over me. He is a gentleman, and not a man that he should lie, His voice brings me peace.
For every time you tell me to shut up he tells me to speak up, when you say dim down, He says shine. When you speak soul-crushing words that lead me to feel aggressively uncomfortable in my own skin He reminds me that this very skin is covered in His fingerprints. When you incite me to wage war against myself, every time you cheerlead me to over eat or under eat, to over spend and embrace excess and fear scarcity he leads me to a place of peace. To clear, still waters, I have everything I need.
Dear inner critic, please begin to clear your desk and pack your things.
I am choosing to listen to the voice of truth, the lover of my soul the one who calls me beloved, and every time I do your voice is getting quieter, your tyrannical grip on me is getting looser and your services are rendered increasingly useless.
©Jo Hargreves
No comments:
Post a Comment