Mean Voice, Mean Voice Go Away
Come Again Another Day—NOT

I love visiting my family.   I really do.   And the older I am the better it gets.  Still plagued by the “mean” voice, though, I’m not completely comfortable once there.  My mean voice says things like,  “Yep, I knew it.  Suzanne looks better than me.  Thin.  Able to wear tight jeans.”

Thank goodness with each passing year the mean voice gets less and less attention.   And it just so happens that I don't care as much about my physical appearance anymore.  Oh this doesn’t mean I’m ready to throw in the towel—no, I still regularly play tennis and jog four times a week.  I’m simply finding contentment.   But I say that, and yet I’m still tortured.   As I roll out of bed and glance at my hands I say, “Yep, just as I thought…swollen.”  I chide myself for failing to remain on the low-carb fare in preparation for the visit.   Looking in the mirror, I fuss at my face.  “Fat.  Yuck. Control yourself.  What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you be more like your sister, Suzanne?”  Then, I start with the promises.  “Next time. Next time.”  And finally I realize how hopeless my optimism is.   Suddenly I’m tired and angry.  Feeling fat makes me snap—makes me grouchy.

But despite the unwelcomed arrival of the mean voice, I still laughed.  I still smiled.  Better yet, I left feeling more loved than not. Even with my tortured experience others told me I looked radiant and beautiful.  Graciously I accepted, but deep down didn’t believe them.  Regardless love and laughter flowed to and from me and all the while I felt a profound connection to many people, some related some not.  This week I loved them all and this week I felt they all loved me back—faults, mean voice and all.

Allyn Evans, founder of QueenPower.com and author of Grab the Queen Power:  Live Your Best Life!  www.allynevans.com.