When will my internal dialogue be good to me?
If I spoke to others the way I sometimes speak to myself, I wouldn’t have very many friends. Do I call others fat? Do I tell other people they’re not good enough? How many times have I questioned the validity of another person’s dreams, hopes and desires? Probably never! I’d encourage them on.
Why don’t I encourage myself?
I’m sickened sometimes at the lack of empathy I give myself. I’ve come through so much and yet it’s never good enough, it seems.
Why is this?
It isn’t just what I’ve been through that trained me, it is what I wasn’t taught that sometimes still guides me, too.
I wasn’t taught that I was good just because I was someone’s daughter. I wasn’t encouraged to be myself. I was often shunned growing up for not looking appropriate, being too fat and looking unkept and messy.
These unsightly images of myself stay stuck in the membranes and fibers of my soul.
I need to proactively seek resolution to these old, staunch voices. They beckon me somewhere that isn’t good.
I need to silence the taunting way they are displeased with me. They continually echo the disturbances I came through.
I need to be all done with this shit.
I’m a proud mother to two beautiful daughters. My girls are the best mothers I know to their own children. I’ve established a loving environment that my family can come home to, one that is safe and full of unconditional acceptance. I am equipped with a great career that I can take with me anywhere.
Why don’t I dream, then? Why do I allow this silly suffering?
It wouldn’t be God’s way for me. I know that. I just need to teach my inner critic those lessons now.
I am not bringing fear along with me. I am enough.