A Note to My Inner Critic

That’s it.  I need you to pack your crap and get out.  Out of my head.  Out of my domain. Just out. I am tired of you telling me that I am not good enough. I am tired of you degrading and demeaning me and my self worth.  I am funny.  I am clever.  and most of all, I do have something to say.

*** Contains strong language***
Oh I know how you operate now.  You let me get an idea in my head.  You allow me to get all excited at how I can use this idea to reach my goals and then you let me even work on the project, figure out all the logistics and then WHAMMO! You throw up an obstacle that I don’t know how to surmount.  You make sure when I figure out some way that the project won’t be scalable or possible without a boatload of staff.  You make sure that I figure out that the project won’t even be profitable.  You like to point out that I’ll have to give up time with my husband and children to be successful.
When I was 9 year old, I wrote an essay about my dog.  My teacher told me that I was the best writer in my grade and that with training, I could be an excellent writer. How clever you were to slip in my parents’ heads that evening and help them put me in my place when I told them that I was the best in my class!  Nobody makes money as a writer, they told me.  No one but a very lucky person can get published!  Your mother never got any of her work published did she? What makes you think you can get your work published?  Oh no, little 9 year old, go back to your fantasies of working in an office and forget being creative.  We aren’t creative people!  Only starving artists can do that!
Well that’s it buster.  I have ideas in this head of mine. PROFITABLE ideas at that. I have ideas that will help me and others too. I have stuff in my head that will help me to reach my goals.
I’m putting together tools and community right now. I am mapping out time and resources. I’m putting together all kinds of ways to get around you because I am able to reach these goals.  Your time abiding between my ears is over and I will only listen to the things that help me and further my progress.  I only see things that help me overcome obstacles.  I only feel things that conducive to keeping me in a happy mood.  I have plenty of time with my husband and children despite the work that will get done.
You are kaput and over. I will talk to that 9 year old and tell her to write about whatever she wants. I will tell her to be as creative as she likes.  She has some practicing to do and as she practices, she will get better and better.  She will be able to pull ideas out of her head.  You’ve convinced her that she can’t write creatively.  I have a hunch that if she practices that she will come up with some awesome and amazing ideas.
So pack your shit.  Pack your self-doubt.  Pack your bad attitude.  Especially pack your quiet whispers of “Why do you think you’re so special?”

 

Dammit I am special.  I have great ideas.  Now stand back and watch me.  But don’t let the door hit you on the ass as you go out the door.

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