To the Peanut Gallery in Your Head

This one is for the ladies. 

Summer is in full swing, but seasons can't stop feelings or ideas from creeping into our minds. When we are either over-stressed and looking for an escape or bored out of our minds, any avenue for entertainment will usually play into the woman’s desire to be loved and seen.

We watch a movie wherein the heroine conquers the industry, the man, or the mountain. We read books inspiring us to greatness beyond the present or lulling us into a sense of comfort because of shared pain. But as we delve into these processed forms of security we lower our defenses asking to be loved by something.

The lower our defenses, the more likely we are to actually hear from unexpected voices. In his book The Crowd, the Critic, and the Muse, Michael Gungor argues that creators have to choose between the voices and influences of the crowd, critic, or muse. The same argument applies to any human being. External voices of influence push us in various directions, urging us to make decisions based on feelings, experiences, and standards that belong to someone else – another’s voice. As voices come in, our ability to think for ourselves goes out.

The strongest voice, in my experience, has been that of the critic. The “voice is so powerful,” Gungor argues, “because it resonates with the voices of our deepest fears…telling us that we are not good enough. The critics confirm our repressed and terrified suspicions that we don’t measure up, that we are unsafe and unloved.”

Where do we hear these voices? They come from the rebellious heroine in our favorite movie who pushes reason aside to be with the one who holds her identity in the palm of his hand. They come from the song about being free to be yourself because no one should tell you what to do, but now you don’t know what you want. They come from the girl sitting next to you in Chemistry who always gets the better grade and makes you feel inferior. They come from you as you walk through the mall thinking “your life would be better if”.

What a lie.

While we let these voices in, hoping they will make us feel better, an entire life is being lived. A screen has become our playground as our fingers dance about the keys instead of through the trickling stream in the park down the street. We have convinced ourselves that growing up means leaving innocence for arrogance.

Our freedom is at stake, but the freedom I’m talking about comes from inside. Instead of intentionally setting aside time to listen to the right voice, we listen to the loudest. Self-deception has wound itself so thick into the minds of hurting women that we rely on the accumulated fog as a constant.

So this week, let’s question the constant: what voices are you hearing and what are they saying?