Someone is constantly watching you, constantly taking note of your thoughts and actions, and constantly passing judgment. She remembers everything you have ever done, everything you have ever said, and every thought you have ever had. And she is the biggest bitch on the planet.
She’s a lousy critic, too. A real critic is able to find a balance between what you do exceptionally well and what you need to improve. This critic only sees the negative. She tells you that your actions are never good enough. She tells you that your ideas are worthless, less than worthless. She tells you everything that you say sounds stupid.
Give her enough time, and she will break you. She will keep you from doing the things that you want to do and things that will lead to a happy, fulfilling life. She will keep you from being engaged in stretching out and reaching your highest aspirations. She will have you hold your tongue for fear of embarrassing yourself or fear of being judged.
If I were speaking of someone else, another person, you would never allow yourself to be controlled in such a way. You would have already knocked her out for saying the things she says to you.
But I am not speaking of someone else; I am speaking of your Inner Critic.
I am speaking of the little voice inside of you that picks at you night and day and that prevents you from being something more than you are.
This is why she must die. And this is why YOU must kill her.
She must die so that you can believe in yourself, so that you can believe in your own ideas. She must die so that you can act with the confidence and the courage of your own thoughts and desires. She must die so that you can truly live.
And YOU must kill her.
Inside your head, there is only room for one voice (unless, of course, there are already a lot of voices, in which case, we know how you got to TNR). Only you can replace the Inner Voice that tells you that your ideas are right. Only you can replace her with a voice that tells you to go for it and to Hell with the consequences. Only you can replace her with a voice that tells you have embarrassed yourself before and lived, and you will live through future temporary losses of dignity (unless of course you are willing and able to steer clear of many important and necessary medical examinations).
To kill her, you need to send in the bigger bitch that lives inside you. Send in the girl that would jar loose the teeth of anyone who would dare speak to you the way your Inner Critic speaks to you. And send her in packing heat.
I shared this thought with my friend, TNR, because she has something special to give. She has a special gift that is her authenticity. Her gift is her view of the world and her sense of humor. I want to see her, uninhibited and unadulterated, on Groupon. I want to see her on the stage of a comedy club. I want to see her write her HBO comedy special.
And I want to see the best you have to offer us, too. The world is waiting for you.
Ralph Waldo Emerson might be heady stuff for a blog that featured a TNR video performance of a song called: “Balls.” But my Inner Critic died (of unnatural causes) a long time ago. So here’s your quote:
“To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men - that is genius. Speak your latent conviction, and it shall be the universal sense; for the inmost in due time becomes the outmost . . .
There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better for worse as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried . . .
Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.”
Go ahead and trust yourself. Then take the iron string and wrap it around the Inner Critic’s neck.
What do you think? Do you have an Inner Critic? Or, like both Anthony and myself, have you killed yours?