The Critical Voices of Childhood

Coming down from the attic of my past,
I remember all those critical voices.

Today I have decided I have lived up there
in that old musty attic for too long.

Seems to me I have been sorting through a chest of old rags, rags of guilt and shame.

Critical voices of my childhood that kept
telling me that I was not
'good enough.'
Keeping those old dusty rags around
did keep me sorting through them as I grew.

I listened to those voices for awhile.

The voices of shame that said I must always do more,
I must always be more to be acceptable. 

Those voices seemed positioned on my shoulder and spoke in my ear,
as a critical parent,
for far too long.

I now know that I get to replace those critical voices. 
I have a new voice.
One that reminds me
of all the wonderful things I am today.
And, I am enough. 

I can pardon myself for being less than perfect.
I can remind myself that no one is perfect.

That  inner child,
that sorted through the musty rags,
full of shame
does not remain.

There is now an adult, smiling,
and held that small child's hand as
we descended the stairs of the attic,
together.

 And that shame of the past, those musty rags,
are left up in that attic.

I got to shut the attic door firmly behind me.
That if that little one, sometimes forgets. 
 I remind her,
I no longer live in the past. 

The sunshine of today,
along with the joy of my life.
Are waiting for me.
And I know.
I am enough.

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