Today I'm hosting Tracy Dickens from All About the Three R's: Reading, Writing, and Really Great Cake. She posted my article about the value of talent, and now it's her turn to shine. I love this, and it reminds me of what I talked about in my post They Really Like Me!
Tracy Dickens is a socially sanctioned voyeur by day (licensed psychologist) and plays with words at night. She writes YA fiction. She can be found at tracy-d74.livejournal.com
Dear Negative Talk:
At times I have enjoyed our intimate chats. Especially the ones when I’m curled in a ball and you hold me, whispering in my ear. In the past your words have comforted me. I thought they helped me see the reality of the situation. I mean let’s face it, I’m not perfect.
When I woke up today, things were different. I know I’ve said it before. I know I’ve kicked you out before. Read these words carefully: Today. Is. Different. Today, I see you for what and who you are.
You can thank yourself for my realization. Yes, you. The other day you crashed my party. The one I purposely did not invite you to, because let’s face it, sometimes you can be a drag. When you showed up with your bravado stinking up my house, I knew the time had come. You pushed my friend Confidence out of the way. You laughed at my co-worker Reasoning. And I won’t even sully this paper with the things you whispered in Self-Esteem’s ear. The nerve of you. Then you plopped down on my sofa, slapped your muddy boots on my coffee table and cracked open a soda. That is just rude. I mean, who does that?
No more. No more! I took the liberty of packing your bags while you were asleep. All your things are on the back porch. Don’t cause a scene. Please. I know how you like to draw attention to yourself sometimes. Not today. I’m not listening. And no sniveling! Be a man about this. Just leave.
And if you come here again, I am calling my friend Clear Thinking. You two haven’t met. He is big, burly, and doesn’t take crap from anyone. He eats bullies like you for lunch and poops them out later. So unless you want to become poop, I suggest you just go and forget about me.