Taming the Inner Shrew

The Taming of the Shrew (1967 film)

The Taming of the Shrew (1967 film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I can’t take any credit for that title because it came from my friend Frances, who laughingly gave me permission to use it.  God, I wish I’d had it yesterday!

I’m going to retouch on yesterday’s topic of our never-ending inner critics because an interesting thing happened to me yesterday.  In the course of writing about my internal doom-crier Phyllis, I reported on her ongoing litany of abuse.  But this time, I responded to those jabs, for the first time speaking directly to that dire voice who haunts the back of my brain.  And you know what?  I shut her up.

Seriously.  For the rest of yesterday and (so far) all of today, she’s been quiet.  I think I’m on to something here.  The way to get her (or him) to shut up and leave you alone is to make it clear you don’t care what they think.  They’re just another voice on the wind, another blow-hard whose opinion doesn’t matter because it’s not really you doing the talking, it’s all that shit we collect through the years that serves to scuttle us.  And who wants to listen to that?  I mean, really.  Don’t you have better things to listen to?

As a postscript, this little ditty courtesy of the supremely talented Christine Lavin:



About Melissa Crandall

A million years ago--round-about the first Ice Age--I cut my writing teeth on fanzines and science fiction media tie-in novels. I'm happy to say that I've since branched out to include fantasy, horror, essays, and narrative nonfiction. This site will keep you up-to-date on my adventures in writing. I live in Connecticut with my husband--who frequently wonders what he got himself into by marrying a writer--two cats named Tuna and Gypsy, and a semi-neurotic Australian shepherd named Holly.
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2 Responses to Taming the Inner Shrew

  1. natasiarose says:

    Ooo maybe I should name mine, so I could tell her to shut up too.

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