Reclaiming My Inner Critic
On evolving and finding my own voice.
I’ve always treated myself like my own worst enemy, doubting my abilities and shaming myself into feeling small. I can remember being in kindergarten, sitting on the carpet in criss-cross-applesauce, listening to the teacher ask a question and being unsure about raising my hand even though I knew the answer. It was one part fear of rejection, two parts lack of self-confidence. I eventually did it, I raised my hand up high, but someone else beat me to it (I still remember who it was, actually. I can’t remember what I did yesterday, but I could tell you who incorrectly answered that question about rabbits in kindergarten). I remember the disappointment when I wasn’t called on, my chest sinking like a deflating balloon. It felt like I had put myself out there, I had taken a risk, and still wasn’t seen.
It was one of many instances that occurred over the years. I was never one to willingly raise my hand in class or offer my thoughts in the office. But as I started to do the work and dig deep with my therapist, I began to find my voice. And as I’ve started to finally step into my power in the last few years, I’ve realized that internal critic – that harsh voice resounding inside my head, the one louder than all the others – wasn’t even mine.
In my childhood, and into my teens and twenties, my friends were everything. And don’t get me wrong, they still are. But in my formative years, they were who I looked to for an understanding of the world. I was the oldest child, after all; I had to learn the things for myself in order to teach them to my brother. I had to pave the way, which was something I was naturally nervous about. As a result, my friends were almost like siblings. I spent so much time with them – at school, in sports, and eventually in college – I felt inner meshed, like I was an extension of them and them of me.
I have always prided myself on being able to get along with everyone. But from my work with my therapist and coach, I’ve realized it was just because I didn’t have any boundaries. My door was wide open. I let anyone in and I let them walk all over me. Even if we weren’t close friends, I would still acquiesce and assume their opinion was the right one. No one else seemed as unsure as me, so they must be right, right?
After feeling burnt out in corporate, suffering a layoff, then leaving my rebound job for the uncharted territory of entrepreneurship, I have since learned what it feels like to listen to my gut – specifically what it feels like when things are wrong for me. It therefore gave me a clearer sense of what - and who - is right for me. Who not only lights me up, but lifts me up. Lifting up was the key to healing my mindset. With better boundaries in place, I could better see myself and feel others’ effect on me.
My layoff showed me how attached I’d become to a very specific idea of success, one that said I was a failure if I didn’t have a corporate job at a well-known company making six figures. Though this may be another person’s definition of success, it didn’t feel right as my own. In fact, it made me feel worse. It’s what made me feel doubly dejected and led me to take a rebound job, even though everything inside of me was telling me it wasn’t what I needed to be doing.
What I needed to do was pave my own way. I needed to shed these outdated opinions, these baseless beliefs, as well as the sources I’d adopted them from.
Over time, I’ve gained a firmer sense of who my people are. This tends to happen naturally with age, yes, as families grow and lives evolve, but the biggest catalyst for me was my mindset. My commitment to my boundaries helped me identify what I needed and allowed me to redirect my energy into those relationships. My closest friends are those who have grown with me. They are the people who have seen these boundaries and not only respected them, but helped me build them. They’ve never once tried to take them - or me - down.
Once I started giving more of my attention to the people who lifted me up, the lighter my psyche felt. I suddenly had distance from the voices that shouted so loudly in my mind and began to form my own. They say the antidote to negative self-talk is to speak to yourself they way a friend would. Now surrounded only by my biggest cheerleaders, the people who love me unconditionally and genuinely want me to succeed, I finally know what that means. No longer do I focus on how much money I make, thinking of it as a direct equivalent for my self worth. No longer do I obsess about body image (at least as much as I used to), feeling ashamed, exposed every summer and relieved, concealed every winter. No longer do I carry with me these negative ideologies that were weighing on me for so many years of my life.
Instead, I’ve reclaimed my voice and am letting myself and my relationships speak for themselves.
Love this!