The Committee takes six days

I've talked before - I think on my previous blog - about the committee in your head. But for those of you who didn't read it or don't remember here's the story:

You have a committee in your head. Yes, yes you do. Everyone does. The committee is not exactly the same for everyone, but it's close. The committee is made up of voices from your past. The first person to stand you up. The teacher who said you didn't do anything right. The kid that didn't invite you to a birthday party even though you thought you were friends. That person who cheated on you, that co-worker who lied...you get the picture.

The committee gets active when you're feeling a little bit uncertain. Job interview, new business venture, first date jitters, starting on a new hobby or skill. They all start talking. Telling you you're crazy to think whatever you're doing or have done is a good plan. Don't tell me you don't hear those voices, I don't believe you.

What I discovered this week is that my committee has a definite schedule. Six days. Six days after I've done something or started thinking about trying something new, they decide to chip in. And let me tell you, they're mean:

"Pink cashmere and faux fur? What are you, six?"

"New brochure? Why bother? People just want cookies for Christmas. They could come from the grocery store for all that it matters"

"Date? How about pity date? That sounds about right"

"You should try wearing make up. Seriously you're, like, ancient. But learn how to do it right, you looked like a clown that Saturday out"

"Yeah, you've lost weight. But is there really a difference between pudgy and plain and less pudgy but just as plain?"

"A Novel? Are you KIDDING me? You couldn't write your way out of a wet paper bag"

I am going to search for the anti-committee voices. Because they must be in there somewhere. And no, I'm not searching for reassurance. I told the committee to back off. I just hate that they're there in the first place.