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Quiet The Critic

When it comes to building my coaching practice, I keep telling myself I don't know what to do. I tell myself it's too hard, it's too scary, I'll screw up.

All distractions. I'm so good at distractions.

My brain likes to keep me in a protective little bubble. I call it the Bubble of Safety.

It's an imaginary bubble. It doesn't exist, except in my brain. My brain is a slippery little sucker. I start to tell myself all the reasons why this isn't going to work, and that I should just go get a job.

The excuses rush in.

The reasons why I should quit seem valid.

I start to believe them.

I start to doubt what I'm doing, and how I'm doing it.

I become my own obstacle.

I use doubt and confusion to muddy the waters.

I tell myself I can't do this, I’m not cut out for this, I’m not strong enough.

That couldn't be further from the truth.

I keep analyzing, over-analyzing, and analyzing why I’m analyzing.

My head hurts and I'm tired.

Chocolate sounds good.

Maybe I could bury my thoughts in some cake.

This isn’t me.

I mean, it is…. but it isn’t.

This lack of confidence in my ability, THAT isn’t me.

This didn’t happen when I had a job.

I never let anything stop me.

I taught myself anything I didn’t know.

I removed, danced around, or crushed any obstacle in my way.

I was a bulldozer.

I got shit done.

Where is that woman?

She’s still here, but she’s hiding behind the curtain.

This is her show now, and she’s scared to come on stage.

She thinks it’s easier when it’s for someone else.

Chocolate won’t help.

Cake isn’t gonna cut it.

Eating is another distraction disguised as comfort.

Food is not the answer.

I know this.

I know all of this.

I can see what I’m doing.

I call my own bullshit.

It’s time to say fuck it.

I’m going after what I want, because there’s nothing to be afraid of.

I kindly tell my brain, “I got this”.

My inner critic can take a time out.

I let her know I can do this.

Watch me.

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