‘You are stupid. You are not good enough. You write like a toddler.’
I stare at the blinking cursor on my screen while a tear rolls down my cheek. The words repeat in my head like a bad 90s remix. Dumb-dumb. Dumb-dumb-dumb-dumb.
Who is being so mean? Does someone want to deliberately knock me to the ground (or off my office chair)? There is no family member or friend standing next to me. They would be cheering me on with kind, uplifting things, like: ‘You are a S.T.A.R!’ It is not a memory of a stranger on the street either. Even the angry man I accidentally cut off on my bike did not shout such blunt things at me.
The words come from someone who stands very close to me. Yes, really. It is the voice in my head.
Suddenly my strategy comes to mind for when my inner critic shows up. I stretch my arm out as far as I can and point my thumb up. ‘Hello Boo-Boo,’ I say, looking at my thumb. ‘Is everything okay with you?’ In a high squeaky voice, Boo-Boo answers: ‘I just want to protect you. That is all.’
Relieved, I wipe the tear from my cheek with the tip of my sleeve. The mean words are well-meant. My Boo-Boo has my best interests at heart.
Before you think, ‘the woman typing these words has lost the plot,’ this strategy is backed by science. Dr. Kristin Neff says it helps to turn your inner critic into a character. Give him or her a name, a silly voice and preferably a spot far from your head. Because often it sits buried deep in your brain. Showing who is boss, setting boundaries and taking distance helps you build a better relationship with your unpleasant guest.
So, when I now have a negative thought, I pretend Boo-Boo is saying it to me. ‘Ank, you are not good enough’ suddenly no longer sounds painful, but hilarious. Because how can I believe a talking thumb?
My dream is that one day I get on the train, sit down across from a woman, and she suddenly raises her thumb and says in a silly voice, ‘Come on, Linda. You are going to rock this job interview.’ Then I jump up, give her a big hug, and Boo-Boo wishes her all the best.
Love, Anke