That voice is still there. Sitting on an empty bleacher of the gym inside my mind. It watches me as an opposing fan would. Waiting for the slip, waiting for the fall so that it can cheer. How quiet it’s been now, and for so long. Before it used to celebrate every day. The mocking wouldn’t end. Now it is alone, all the other opposing fans went home. They gave up the idea that you’d lose that ground you gained. Not this voice though. It has inside its psyche the picture of you before. It remembers who you were. Before you became who you are now. I don’t have to tell you though, you’re very much aware of its existence. You still make sure it watches you when no one else is watching. Today is no different. Make it watch again. Make it suffer the way you did.
The internal critic remains, a solitary figure in the bleachers of my mind, watching and waiting for any sign of weakness. It is like an opposing fan at a game, eager to cheer at the first stumble. Once, its mocking voice was relentless, celebrating my failures daily. But now, silence reigns. The other voices, the rest of the critical crowd, have left, conceding to the progress I’ve made. They no longer believe I will lose the ground I’ve gained.
This lone voice persists, however, clinging to memories of who I used to be. It remembers the struggles and the defeats before I transformed into who I am now. It holds onto the past, unwilling to accept my growth and change. I don’t need reminders of its presence; I am acutely aware. I ensure it witnesses my journey, especially when no one else is around.
Today, like every day, I make it watch. I confront it with my progress and resilience, turning the tables on it. The suffering it once inflicted on me is now its own burden to bear. By persevering, I force it to acknowledge the strength I’ve gained, making it endure the same anguish it once reveled in. My growth and determination are my victories, and I make sure that voice is there to see every moment of it.
