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in issue six
Scintillations
Real Friendship
Letters To My Younger Self
My Friends And Me
Real Dream Interpretation
More Real Dreams
Surviving Friendship
Grateful For That Kiss
Supportive Friend
Moody Girl
Making Friends
  With My Inner Critic
Low Speed Chase 
  To Power
Periodic Friend
Life Based Upon A Word
Follically-Challenged 
  Friendships

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Dana Ehrlich

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Issue Seven: Trust
Issue Eight: Power

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Issue One: Change
Issue Two: Balance
Issue Three: Spring
Issue Four: Goddess
Issue Five: Bravery

She is the kind of friend no one wants yet everyone is forced to accept. She's loud, judgmental and negative and she often prevents us from doing the very things we're passionate about. She is my inner critic, and after 26 years of trying to abandon her, I've finally decided it's time we became friends.

I'm not sure when I first met my inner critic.  I think we've grown up together.  I definitely remember hearing her voice when I tried out for the soccer team in junior high, and again when I took an art class in high school.  She was in overdrive when I decided to pack my belongings and move cross-country, and she's sitting on my shoulder as I write this.

The problem is, I'm not really sure how to make friends with her.  I've tried reasoning with her, yelling at her, ignoring her…all to no avail.  I've read countless books on how to tame her, understand her, and thrive in spite of her.  Nothing works.  I'm left with this nasty voice in my head telling me that I'm not smart enough, pretty enough, rich enough or talented enough.  The worst part is, sometimes I believe her.

Her whispers and whining are often quite convincing.  She appears most often when I'm attempting to navigate those areas of my life that I am most uncertain about.  She is a master of paralyzing my every intention with fear.

Mostly, my inner critic spends her every waking moment ridiculing my desire to be creative.  She tells me my journals are too structured, my paintings are too juvenile, my poetry is pathetic and my attempts to make a living as a freelance writer will only be met with rejection.

I'm tired of fighting battles with her, and I can no longer let her win.  It's time we became friends.

The first thing I realized in my quest to make friends with my inner critic is that I knew nothing about her.  Before I could befriend her, I needed to understand what motivated her, what excited her and what made her mad.

I remember reading somewhere that drawing a picture of your inner critic is the best way to understand her.  Apparently by giving her a name and a personality she can be reasoned with instead of feared.  I was ready to try anything.  I pulled my oversized sketchbook and Crayola markers from their perch on the top shelf of my bedroom closet and began to draw.  The image that appeared took up the entire page. Since she had such a large impact on my thoughts, I reasoned it was appropriate that her image was large as well.

Bold strokes of color filled the page, and the image that emerged surprised me.  On the page in front of me, my inner critic stared down at me, hands on hips, with a look that said, "what are you looking at?"  Apparently she was angry that I was bringing her to life.  I looked at her image and considered how she might be feeling.  Threatened, perhaps?  Maybe my inner critic was afraid of being understood.

I continued to draw and with each new line, I grew to understand her a little more. She wore a dress in the shape of a large triangle. Rather than coloring the dress, I used a magic marker and filled it with the words that define her. Soon her dress was filled with words like 'perfection, punctuality, order, organization, insecurity, anger, attitude, fear.'

Fear.  The word jumped from the hem of her dress into the depths of my mind.

I stared at the word for a long time, it's power overwhelming me.  That single word--fear--has made me understand my inner critic.  She is afraid.  Every judgment, every criticism, every negative thought, is driven by her fear, my fear, that I'm not good enough.

I felt awkward staring at the image of my inner critic before me. I had given her a face and a personality and I should have been ready to confront her for holding me back.  But staring at her picture I realized that she wasn't holding me back at all.  I was in control of her voice and I had let fear, uncertainty and my inner control freak take control of my life.  My inner critic was in the driver's seat and I was simply along for the ride.  Her wardrobe of negativity needed to be changed.  I wanted a dress filled with adventure, creativity, succulence, spontaneity, courage and passion.  I was ready to throw off my inner critic's heavy cloak of fear in exchange for something more lively and fashionable. 

I turned the page and began a new picture.  This time the image of my inner critic was much smaller, mirroring the impact I was going to let her have on my life.  She was smiling, wearing a brightly colored dress with words of support and encouragement.  She was no longer going to be my inner critic; she was being transformed into my biggest supporter, my best friend.  Together we were going to challenge our fears and celebrate our successes.

We've become friends, my inner critic and I.  And, like all friends we don't always agree and we've had our share of screaming matches.  But in the end, we understand one another.  We both want the same things, we just approach them differently.

I still have both drawings of my inner critic tucked away in a drawer.  When the fearful inner critic invades my thoughts and threatens to send me running back to bed to hide under the covers, I open the drawer, take out her picture and give her a piece of my mind.  I've even threatened to tear her image to shreds if she isn't quiet, and that seems to tame her, at least for a while.  When I receive praise or recognition or feel particularly proud of an accomplishment, I take the picture of my 'nice' inner critic out of her drawer and let her share in my accolades.

Getting to know my inner critic hasn't been easy and we have a long way to go before we're truly friends.  I still fight with her often (she has been with me throughout the process of writing this), but I'm getting better at ignoring her and working in spite of her.  In fact, just this morning I had a fight with her when she told me I'd never be a "real" writer, and with the fierce determination to prove her wrong, I sat down at my computer and finished this piece.

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