The Inner Voice: A Talk About Control

Carolyn shares a personal story about the controlling inner voice, how and why it shows up for her and ways to let go of old stories. Originally published on Substack in written form, she explores a new line of inquiry towards limiting self talk and how to return to a more balanced and loving state. To anyone struggling with repeated inner battles and shame, this intimate tale from the depths of winter might help you feel more seen and supported.

Transcript

If it comes,

Let it.

If it goes,

Let it.

I had the best of intentions to write this morning.

I went to a yoga class last night to prepare my body,

Set an alarm extra early to catch the potent energy of a dark morning,

Lit a candle,

Lit some twinkly lights,

Had prompts and notes ready to elaborate on.

I was going to get a lot done with my laptop and feel good about it.

I sit on the couch with my computer charged and coffee beside me.

At the exact instant I'm about to begin,

I hear my husband wake up.

He's rarely up with me at 6.

30.

I return the attention to my computer and my ideas.

What was the idea?

To write a list of the benefits I've felt since changing the focus of my career?

Parenting wisdom as I had promised in a recent post?

A list of my current intentions?

We all love lists.

My thoughts narrow.

Be good and think of a list,

Carolyn.

Make it interesting.

And keep it light.

My husband starts emptying the dishwasher,

Loudly.

I can smell the eggs he's frying.

I can sense that I don't quite have the captivating topic I had hoped for.

I hear the voice of my teacher.

Is your writing too negative?

Is it nurturing you?

Is it phrased in a way that helps you build capacity so that you can create your career's next chapter?

The distractions from the kitchen and from my nagging thoughts are building.

But I'm going to write,

God help me.

I'm not going to lose before I've begun.

This is what I'm supposed to do this winter.

Write.

My daughter wakes up.

The practice of staying focused on my laptop is becoming an outer and inner battle.

Just get something out.

Don't waste this morning.

Don't mess it up.

Remember the work you want to do and what you want to create.

I decide to write about control,

Which was feeling further and further out of reach in that moment.

The topic takes me way back in time to my chaotic,

Dramatic,

Teen years.

My keyboard describes a scenario between me,

My dad,

My reliance on narcotics,

And some tense ultimatums.

I write about the ways I used to rage,

Control,

Fight,

Run away,

And cope with substances.

I write about my younger self fighting for autonomy and my caregivers fighting back.

Going back through these memories feels off.

It's too pessimistic.

No one likes reading about struggles.

I don't like feeling the tension in my body as the words show up on my screen.

This was not what I had set out to do this morning.

I don't need to relive the past today.

I'm losing the plot of what it is I was supposed to write about.

I want to do more,

Look to the future,

And be better.

And this uninspired jargon is not it.

Still,

I push on.

I hear more pointed questions in the back of my mind.

Is this piece creating a new narrative or merely strengthening the right versus wrong narrative you learned as a young child?

Who exactly are you controlling now,

And are you making yourself wrong for it?

As I write,

I recall the beliefs that were instilled in me.

I was taught to idolize the status quo,

To be a good girl,

That reactions are bad,

And emotions are bad.

All the while around me,

Explosive emotions caused great turmoil.

As a teenager,

I witnessed the hypocrisy in the words and actions of those who were teaching me.

Now,

Here I am on a cold morning in December,

Telling myself to just get words out on paper and to appeal to the masses.

Here I am still telling myself to just be good.

And the results are not yielding.

Tension builds from the battle within.

I'm also ignoring the mourning unfolding around me.

Hannah sits on the couch across from me.

She's mad.

We had made an agreement about Christmas gifts,

And she's angry that I've actually kept up my end of the bargain.

The details don't matter.

What does matter is that I'm staying calm as we discuss it.

I'm making a coherent argument about what she and I had decided.

But inwardly,

I'm stuck in the emotions of the story I'm trying to write.

All I can hear is my own position and voice being stifled in a humiliating argument with my dad almost 30 years ago.

And somehow this morning,

Hannah intuits that I'm in the trenches with my 16-year-old self.

I'm still intent on being productive,

But Hannah manages to sabotage my goal with what seems like an irrelevant argument.

My inner onslaught has also mounted.

Be a better writer.

You haven't done enough with this time of pausing.

You can't call yourself a teacher or a writer if you can't convince your daughter that you're right.

You have no control over your perspective of the past.

Keep improving your negotiation tactics,

Or your daughter will make all the same mistakes you did.

My darling,

I'm here for you.

No matter how insistent I am that this winter I must become a new version of myself,

The old programming is just a heartbeat away.

My 16-year-old self will always live within.

I know her ways,

And they bore me.

Her coping mechanisms used to work and offer a sense of control.

Threats and ultimatums.

Conditions of worth on every action and thought.

Pushing herself into a tight corner where anger and explosions lurk.

Without the space and breath she needs,

It's an impossible way to forge a new path ahead.

It comes with physical tightening,

Contraction,

And a disconnection from the present moment.

The writer's voice I'd like to embody gets lost too easily in these dark hours of winter.

Old voices are tough to shake,

But even more so if I fight with them.

I'm nearly fed up enough to stop fighting forever.

I'm nearly fed up enough to only love her heart,

My heart,

Forever.

Is this actually possible?

In my mature years,

I think it is.

Winter's long nights prove to me that more love could be the only remedy out there.

Rather than fighting,

What if,

Instead,

I remembered that reflecting upon my past is useful because it highlights the beautiful transformation I have undergone?

What if,

Instead,

I believed that I am a parent who relies on conversation and curiosity,

Not threats or belittling statements?

What if,

Instead,

I acknowledged that my learned responses are wise ways to cope with a volatile home during teen years?

What if,

Instead,

I trusted that I am on the same team as my family and my younger self?

What if,

Instead,

I lovingly saw that I'm the one getting in my own way when I contract into a controlling writer,

Controlling mama,

Controlling teacher?

What if I could love that this moment is on me and the future is on me?

I'm the one who holds the cards.

Untangling the good versus bad argument from my core beliefs requires new questions and nervous system practices.

It is a lifelong practice of softening the way my body wants to contract.

It is a constant softening through understanding,

Forgiving my upbringing,

And opening my eyes to the lessons of the present moment.

It is a journey into the heart of my daughter and my own heart.

This is one thing I can control,

How present I choose to be with my own heart.

This morning,

Through the turmoil of my past,

Comparisons,

Striving to finish my to-do list,

And wishing it had panned out more perfectly,

I did eventually reach my heart.

I didn't succeed with my goals or the plan I had,

But I stopped and witnessed what was actually occurring in the living room,

On the couch,

With my family,

And within my head over the span of an hour.

The teachings and the perfect writings were all there.

It wasn't about the interruptions from my husband or my daughter.

The morning and the flashbacks were teaching me about where my 16-year-old self was still hurting,

And likely even a younger version too.

When I zoomed out,

Took a breath,

Stepped out of the room,

Found gratitude for it all,

I saw that more expansion was possible.

For me,

Expansion is reached through understanding and relaxing.

Each version of ourselves is only ever asking to be seen without judgment.

However,

We must first pause and witness what the inner voice is,

And the full spectrum of what our experience is revealing to us.

If we want to soften into expansion,

We must also honor the moments of contraction.

Currently,

I am in a season of pause.

There is much to listen to and to love.

I understand this.

It's an undoing of sorts.

It's not exactly contraction,

But everything within me is mirroring the steady approach of winter.

The season of winter is for resting and quieting ourselves.

I understand this.

This season is for contemplating and surrendering.

In the dark,

We can go at no other speed than slowly and with great care.

In slowing down and listening,

We carve out more space for a softer inner voice to sing.

This naturally progresses into the next stage of expansion.

Or so I understand it.

A more loved and loving younger self awaits.

She asks for time and space over seasons,

Years,

And decades.

With less forcing and more flow,

Just as the seasons shift,

So too do our eras of creation and contraction.

How could I expect myself to become my best self overnight when this dark season urges me to go much deeper and at a slower pace?

How could I,

Again,

Think that retaliating against myself with controlling commentary would get the job done?

This morning,

My best response to the internal fight was to stop.

Pause.

Give it a rest.

Turn off the computer.

Take care of this moment.

This nervous system.

This heart.

Let it go.

Understanding is a quiet surrender.

Surrender feels a lot like love.

And as it turns out,

I do have a list for things that support more love and nurture us out of old patterns.

Because we all love lists.

And this one was written from a place of space and calm,

Instead of shoulds or shame.

It's normal for distractions,

Tension,

Or doubt to get in the way.

Seasons of pause,

Exhaustion,

And contraction will occur.

Coming back to relaxation,

To easeful conversation with the voices within,

To release and control can be chosen no matter our current season.

Coming back is possible.

It might feel hard to do during the holidays,

But keep going.

Keep starting over again.

My wintry top tools for bringing the nervous system back to a balanced,

Regulated state.

Feel the tears or whatever ache is underneath the tension.

Stand up,

Walk into a different room.

Pour a glass of water,

Drink it slowly.

Take three deep breaths or hum or sigh three times.

Massage or tap your face.

Tell someone what you are feeling.

Let them know if you're looking for advice or if you just need to get it out.

Try to share the feelings without blaming or attacking anyone.

Hand on heart.

My darling,

I'm here for you.

Go spend time with a trusted group of people or a group of trees.

Acknowledge errors you have made without berating yourself.

Write about or notice what is currently happening in the present moment.

Notice how an idea feels in the belly or in the shoulders before running with it.

Don't grip too tightly to the way a morning begins,

Because you'll get another chance tomorrow.

Give your childhood self an imaginary squeeze.

Often,

She still needs your love and nurturing.

Consider all things as sacred.

Every moment,

Season,

And every person is a spiritual teaching.

How are you creating the conditions to listen and integrate?

Reviews

It was like I was listening to my own thoughts...
Having a pause from schema therapy right now and the thoughts are just racing through my head on a daily basis, giving me more and more insight on my inner child. The healing and loving part is still difficult though.
This helped a lot. Thank uou🙏🏼

Absolutely love this Carolyn
Resonated big time

Thank you!

I’ve always loved your guided meditations, but I had no idea what a gifted writer you were. So grateful that I found this talk today. 🙏🏻