A Letter to the Voice In My Head

Letters to the Voice in My Head

Letter 1: To the Voice in My Head

You're sharp. You're loud. You're exhausting.

When you speak, it doesn't feel like a thought—it feels like a gut punch. You tighten my chest, raise my blood pressure, and hijack my focus. You don't just criticize me—you attack. You question my worth. You replay my failures. You make me believe I haven't grown. And when someone crosses a boundary, you're ready to rage. You curse in my head, pick fights that never happen, and drain my energy before I even respond in real life.

You tell me I'm falling behind. That I'm not working hard enough. That everything I've done could fall apart at any moment. You use my past against me. You say I'm lucky, not capable. You make me doubt myself before I even try.

And yet, for years, I thought you were me.

But you aren't. You're a broken loop. A leftover habit from years of trying to be perfect, trying to stay safe, trying to stay ahead. Maybe you once pushed me to aim higher. Maybe you helped me avoid mistakes. But now—you're mostly noise.

I've listened to you long enough. You've had your time. You served your purpose. But now, I choose something else.

Letter 2: From the Observer

I hear you. But I am not you.

I am the one who notices, not the one who shouts.

I show up in silence—in breath, in posture, in the space between reactions. I don’t argue with you. I don't need to. I just notice, and keep moving.

I value clarity, calm, steady action. I move with purpose, not panic. I make decisions that reflect who I am, not who I'm afraid of becoming. When I fast, when I stretch, when I train, I hear myself clearly. When I'm with my grandson and he looks to me for calm, I feel my presence more than any voice. That’s me.

I know what's true. I don't chase perfection. I don't waste time proving anything to anyone. I honor my word. I show up. I move forward. Quietly, consistently.

And when life gets loud, I don’t disappear. I become more visible. More solid. More present.

I am not afraid of your noise anymore. I just don’t need it.

To the Reader

Try this: Write two letters. One to your inner voice. One from your observer.

Notice the difference.

You are not the voice in your head.

You're the one who listens.

And the more you listen, the more you'll hear who you really are.

- skwally