Dear Linda — A Letter to My Inner Critic

Where compassion, vulnerability, awareness and fear come together in a message from me to you

There are times when I think you’re a complete bitch. Honestly, who do you think you are?

You’re my inner critic — my inner mean girl. The negative voice in my head who thinks she knows better.

You’re the one who tells me I’m not good enough, I’m not capable enough and I suck most of the time.

Imagine if I said this to a real person?

The thing is dear Linda, I am a real person. I’m allowing you to speak to me like this, inside my head. Why am I letting you get away with this?

Truth be told, I’m not entirely letting you off the hook. I’ve been working hard to understand you over the years. To show myself compassion and to allow space to feel where you’re coming from. To hear you, hold you and be there for you when you need it.

I know the real me is in there, screaming to come out, fighting to be heard too. She had some bumps and bruises growing up. This is what helped in creating you. You didn’t exist when I was born.

You’re a defence mechanism

You developed as my brain developed. By 7-ish you started to appear. Lucky me!

You started forming when I was a kid, based on my conditioning, culture, caregivers, teachers and the media. You honed in on the bad stuff — soaked it up like it was a river flowing with chocolate milk.

This gave you the foundation for how to behave in the world. Your perceived world. Your job is to protect me based on these perceptions.

Everyone has an inner critic. It’s not like you’re all that special — nor am I for having you.

I know this. I also know you're doing it from a place of love.

So why are you still haunting me? Why do you insist on being so damn mean? Why can I not let you go?

Habit maybe? The monkey mind needs training or to be put back in its cage. Is this it?

I’ve worked hard to tame you

I’ve read countless personal development books. I’ve been in therapy on and off for years. Coaching has helped enormously — hence my ability to write directly to you and publish something about you. This is scary as hell by the way!

I feel like vulnerability is a bad word, but truth be told, this is you putting false messages in my head. Being vulnerable is what’s supporting me in connecting with others.

Being vulnerable enables me to connect with you and work through your negativity and our fear.

But I’m still left with these thoughts. These sad feelings of inefficiency and ineffectiveness, of not being good enough. Like I’m some sort of computer program whose wiring isn’t quite right.

There are days I ignore you, but we both know this only pisses you off.

We’ve kind of become friends too. I guess this is why I feel it’s ok to talk back to you. After all, you say some pretty nasty shit to me.

From what I’ve read and been told, awareness is key. And we both know I’m pretty aware of the things you say to me. I’m also glad I’m at the point where I can sort of see you as separate from me.

You are not me. Although, you take up a lot of space inside my head without paying rent.

And no matter what I do, you’re here to stay

What I ask, is you let me decide more often. I want to support you the way you’ve been trying to support me. You’ve done your best and I’m thankful you’re still trying so hard.

I needed you growing up to prevent me from doing so-called embarrassing things. Now, however, what you see as embarrassing is me trying to step out of my comfort zone.

No one is going to scold me or tell me to stop acting so foolish. There’s no need to tell me I’m not good enough anymore. I know I am good enough. All I need to do is get out of my own way. Easier said than done, but this is why I’m talking to you.

Maybe I can convince you to see the light. Maybe you’ll be willing to step down from the throne and allow me to step up.

You deserve a break now and then. What do you say?

If it’s a no, as I expect from you, I’m going to continue anyway.

I’m the adult now.

I can’t let you stop me anymore

I know you’re going to rebel, as most kids do when an adult puts their foot down. But I can’t let this stop me. I want more. I want to stop allowing myself to be held back. To no longer limit myself because I have a limiting voice in my head.

This is why I continue writing, coaching and connecting. It might be a slow process, but it’s my process, Linda! Mine. You’re welcome to come along for the fantastic ride. I’d love to have you onboard — since you’re not going anywhere anyway.

What I ask is that you play nice. I know fear is your tool of choice. So use this fear as a way of guiding me and helping me investigate, rather than assaulting me with it.

Please, let’s work together. I’ll hold your hand. I’ll listen.

Dear Linda, I love you.

Thank you for taking the time to read this letter to my inner critic Linda. I feel vulnerable, naked and exposed. Gentle is the word that pops into my mind.

If you’re interested, below are some other stories of mine: