Whose Voice Is It, Anyway?

“Why in the world are you wearing that? How did you think that looked good?”

“Why did you sign up for that class? You seriously think you belong there?”

“I can’t believe you just said that. What a stupid thing to say.”

“Aren’t you tired? Don’t even bother showing up. You should give up now.”

These are all statements I heard in one single day. All from the same person.

Who would say these things? And to whom would they dare say them?

If I told you it was a parent speaking this way to their child, you’d ask me why I didn’t call Child Protective Services immediately. If I told you it was one child to another in a classroom, you’d ask me why I didn’t report the speaker for bullying and harassment. If I told you it was one friend to another you’d laugh in my face and tell me that I had a messed up idea of friendship, if I think these kinds of words are acceptable between friends.

But what if I told you that the voice in which I hear all of these things said… was mine,

And that I was also the intended recipient.

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to my inner gremlin.

I recently learned that not everyone has an inner monologue, and I couldn’t believe it. I have a constant stream of thoughts in my head. Observations. Reactions. To-do lists. And usually it doesn’t bother me.

But some days, it’s different.

Harsher. Meaner.

It speaks in my voice, but… in an entirely different way. And it makes me question who I really am.

Because I always thought that my inner voice, the one maintaining this monologue, was me. That it was just my inner self putting words to what I see, do, and feel throughout my life. And that everything I heard in its voice was one in the same.

But… the mean words? The harsh judgement? The bullying? I didn’t think I was like that. I didn’t want to think I was. So this piece… had me questioning.

My inner voice, like most peoples’, helps me to process the world around me. And sometimes it’s happy. And sometimes it’s sad. And sometimes it’s scared. Or angry. Or hurt. Because in all of us, there are pieces that are happy and sad and scared and angry and hurt.

When the inner voice starts turning mean, it doesn’t automatically mean that that is who I am at my core - a mean, nasty person who would speak that way to anyone else. It means that a different side of me is trying to take the wheel.

Those pieces of me, in moments of insecurity, try to latch on to my initial reaction. So I have come to recognize it as its own being. Not my usual inner monologue - it’s the gremlin side that comes out when I am feeling vulnerable. And in so doing, I unlock the ability to talk back - to treat my inner monologue as an opportunity for a dialogue.

“I see you, the piece of me that is scared. I see you seeking routine or comfort, looking to fit in, or afraid to fail. I see you, the piece of me who has been hurt before, and who is scared of being hurt again. I see you, the piece of me that is tired, irritable, and uncomfortable. And I see that, in your own way, you are trying to protect me.”

So now, to those pieces of me, I let the real me, the pieces of me that are strong and secure in my values and goals, respond.

“Thank you for reminding me of who I have sometimes been. Of the lessons I have had to learn the hard way. Of the darker side that exists within me as within this world. Thank you for trying to protect me. But I got this. I got us.”

So here’s the thing. I don’t know that I can ever silence the gremlin, but I also don’t know that I really should. There’s a reason it’s there, and I am learning to be grateful for what it teaches me about myself.