Transparent Tuesdays

Issue 179

You guys,

I stared blankly at my life coach through Zoom. Just a moment ago she had asked, “What does your authentic voice say?” 

Surely this was a rhetorical question. 

“I don’t know,” I finally answered. 

The question stayed with me after our call. I couldn’t stop thinking about my “authentic voice.” It reminded me of how I felt after I read the first chapter of The Untethered Soul and learned that the voice in my head was not me. For months, I could no longer listen to music as I made my commute from Topanga to Santa Monica. I couldn’t listen to anything. How could I listen to the radio when the voice inside my head wouldn’t shut up? For the first time in my life, rather than listening and responding to the voice that I felt was me, I was aware of the voice, or rather, voices, constantly talking (read: yelling) at me. That’s not me? WHAT?!!!

And now, seven years later, I’m amazed again. 

You idiot, you already learned about this. SEVEN YEARS AGO. Why haven’t you figured this out by now? You knew the voices in your head weren’t yours. 

Ah, there she is. The voice who tells me I’m stupid. The same voice who tells me to suck it up, to quit complaining, to toughen up. This is the voice who’s in control, particular, and inflexible. She’s my very own ambitious go-getter who will stop at nothing to get her way. She’s Tracy Flick from the movie, Election.

What’s different about now and seven years ago is that I have names for the different voices in my head. There’s Tracy the Tyrant, Panicked Piglet, and Helen High Achiever. They are my Inner Saboteurs, and they all speak to me differently, at different times, for different reasons. 

It was Sunday afternoon when I put my daughter in her carseat and drove to the grocery store. During the short ride, I imagine us getting into a car accident. The car in the opposing lane swerves and hits us head on. I look down and my legs are mangled. 

I inhale sharply as I grip the wheel and refocus my eyes on the road. Ah, there he is. Winnie the Pooh’s best pal is my Hyper Vigilance. This is the voice who is always terrified, unrealistic, and pessimistic (with an insanely creative imagination, btw). But Piglet is not me. He’s just a voice. 

After the kids go to bed I feel unmotivated and unfocused. All I want to do is eat a bowl of ice cream and sit on the couch and watch a documentary. But I have too much to do. I should edit the podcast, or transcribe notes, or do something productive. Anything productive.

And there she is. My very own pretentious, polite, perfectionist from the movie, Bridesmaids: Helen Harris III is my Hyper Achiever. She’s the voice who starts most sentences with, “You should…” She makes me feel guilty in a subtle, mom-guilt type of way, as if the choice were up to me but if I were a good person, I would do the right thing, and the right thing would be to get my ass on my computer and create something. She seeks approval from others and lives for external validation. 

I can recognize the different voices and name them when they show up. But where is my authentic voice? What does Charlie have to say? 

My life coach tells me to listen for the voice who is calm and curious without judgment. So I listen. 

I’m hanging out with my kids when I feel the familiar pull from Helen High Achiever to check my email and think about everything I have to do after the kids go to bed. I nod hello to Helen and let her know I don’t need to do any of that right now. My daughter wanders close to the street and Panicked Piglet imagines a car whipping around the corner and crushing her tiny body. I put an arm around Piglet and tell him she is safe. I check my watch. It’s 5:05pm. Tracy the Tyrant is in my ear: We need to go in soon for dinner. I need to prep the kids’ meals ASAP in order to prevent a meltdown. Everything is okay, I tell Tracy the Tyrant, as I pat her on the back. 

All the voices are here but I stay with my kids. They’re playing with bubbles. They want to show me. They want to know that I see them. I do. 

My authentic self is here. The reason I can’t hear her is because she doesn’t say much. 

I’m reminded of the time I did a guided visualization and was asked to imagine my “future wise self.” I was dying for her to tell me something—anything—about my future. But all she did was sit next to me and smile warmly, knowingly. 

I thought Tracy and Piglet and Helen were drowning out my authentic voice, but maybe my authentic voice isn’t trying to be heard. Maybe she’s just sitting next to me quietly, holding my hand. 

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Bleecker Bombs

Sam and I are back with another podcast episode!

We talk about my conflicting desires to cultivate friendships while also preferring to spend all my time with me, Sam, the kids, and no one else. Then we rehash an argument because APPARENTLY, I was in Sam’s way in the kitchen. (Insert biggest eye roll here.)

Listen to the episode on overcast.fm, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or Google Podcasts.

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Until next week,

Charlie

P.S. If you’re curious about your own Inner Saboteurs, there’s a quiz. Let me know what you discover!