Have you ever had one of those days when your inner dialogue was absolute trash?

I haven’t had one of these days in a while (thankfully). But earlier this week… Oooof. It hit me hard.

Comparison-itis.

Extreme self-judgment.

Not-enough-ness on steroids.

Not-fast-enough-ness on crack.

I don’t know what the heck happened, but I seemed to have woken up, not just on the wrong side of the bed, but on the wrong side of the universe.

I’m skilled enough to know that these voices aren’t speaking truths to me. I know these voices aren’t actually ME at all.

But after several hours of this nonstop barrage of awfulness, I was not only tired, but I felt pretty beat up. I wanted to crawl out of my own skin and seek refuge someplace else. Anyplace else.

Now, they say if you really want to learn something, teach it. Well…

Many of you know I am a single mother of an almost 9.5 year old (the .5 is incredibly important to him right now).

Well, on this day, when I felt like Pig Pen from the Peanuts comic strip – walking around in a fugue of dust and dirt that were my own negative thoughts about myself – my son had a similar experience.

My son has an incredible imagination. He is a builder-inventor-mad-scientist-architect-artist all wrapped up in one little body.

The state of my home and garage (and in the summer, my side yard, too) often reflects whatever current project(s) he is engaged with. Sometimes it’s a lot and everywhere all at once.

On this day, he had an idea in his head – a beautiful, clever and fun idea – that he was working so hard to execute and manifest into physical reality. But he couldn’t figure out how to do it.

In the end, he felt like “a stupid failure who can’t ever make anything work”. This was followed by punching and kicking a pillow, screaming into the couch cushion, and then lying prostrate on the floor like a slug.

(Oh…! Same buddy. Same!)

Enter parenting opportunity 34,612,987 – right at dinnertime, of course.

He needed hugs. Lots of them.

He needed time to just cry and sob and release.

He needed to hear he is loved and supported and seen.

He needed to be reminded that he is amazing.

He also needed to just take a break from it all and eat some dinner. All of these things got to happen in consecutive order.

And then I talked to him about how it’s just a matter of time until his abilities catch up to his imagination. It’s just a matter of time until his know-how catches up to his brilliance. It’s just a matter of time until he is able to do all that he can dream.

But it IS going to take time. And patience. And a lot of kindness towards himself.

I also told him that those voices that tell him he’s stupid, a failure and nothing ever works – that’s not even HIM.

I asked him to please come to me when those voices get loud. Because that’s when he needs to be reminded of who he IS.

There was more. There were tears. There were more hugs. There was a slice of homemade vegan, gluten-free chocolate cake. And then there were smiles and laughter – thank goodness.

Pivoting back to myself, I had to remember that those voice of judgment, comparison and not enough-ness – they aren’t ME, either.

In those moments when self-criticism starts running amuck, I get to know that it’s not real. It’s not true. It’s just that, somehow, “not me” got ahold of the microphone and started smacking me upside the head with it.

When that happens, I get to reach out for hugs. I get to let myself cry, sob, and release. I get to lie prostrate on the floor, if needed.

I get to reach out to friends and support systems who are going to be kind and compassionate and remind me of who I am. I get to be loved, supported and seen. I get to take that microphone back from “not me”.

Because, just like my kiddo, I don’t have to sit in that sh*t show and suffer. I can reach out for support and be loved out of that funk, too.

May this be a reminder to you – don’t listen to the crap even YOU say about yourself. It’s not true. And don’t think you have to do it all alone, either. Sometimes that’s too hard. Sometimes we just need to be reminded that we’re loved and supported and surrounded by goodness.

Sometimes we need help to take the microphone back from “not us”. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

Lots of love,

Alicia