I wish I could say that if my teenage self had a window to the future, she would be proud of the person I’ve become. But, in truth, I think she would dislike me just as much as she disliked herself. Back then, I could have spoken for hours about all of the reasons I hated the person I was. And that wasn’t something I believed would change. I used to be all-consumed by my inner critic: the critical voice in my head was much louder than any rational thoughts or words of affirmation others offered me.
I had an eating disorder. Each day was a monotonous cycle of exercising as much as possible and eating as little as I could get away with. I was miserable, and it was all because of the cage I’d built within my own mind. This is not something unique to people with eating disorders. I’ve realised, after sharing my story online, that so many people have this unkind voice in their heads, critiquing their every move. And that when you start to talk back, your life improves in ways you wouldn’t expect.
Before I knew I was controlled by my inner critic, I took everything it said as fact. My self-esteem was so low. I’d stand in front of the mirror and the barrage of insults would begin: ugly, fat, useless, unlovable, spotty, disgusting. If someone had said these words to me every day, I’m sure I would have recognised it as bullying. But coming from my own mind, they felt justified and accurate.
But one day, standing in front of my bedroom mirror, I realised this was just a voice. This voice that took such pleasure in reminding me how utterly worthless I was, wasn’t actually my own. It was a separate entity to me. Suddenly, everything changed. Every time I noticed my inner critic calling me lazy and unproductive, I started to stick up for myself. I would tell myself: “Actually, I don’t need to be doing anything now, I deserve to rest”. If it called me ugly, I would remind myself that I didn’t need to be so hard on myself.
For the last five years, I tried hard to say nice things about myself in my head until neutral self-talk felt normal. It hurts to know how unkind to myself I was. I feel incredibly sad for that version of me.
While I occasionally still have to remind myself not to be self-critical, my inner critic has slipped away. Therapy and journalling has helped me to find joy in self-acceptance. I can make a mistake and instead of berating myself, I can reassure myself. I no longer shrink myself to please my inner critic, I have learned to stand up for myself. I know now that just because you think something that doesn’t make it true.
How to Talk to Yourself by Ro Mitchell is published by Bluebird. To support the Guardian order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
