Whose Voice Is That, Really?
She came in for a single piano lesson.
Older, polite, and tightly wound in a kind of rehearsed self-defeat. Before even touching the keys, her inner critic had already taken the spotlight. She was already apologizing—for her age, her ability, maybe even her existence in that space. Every word of encouragement I offered was met with a gentle but immovable wall:
“We’ll see.”
“I’ve never been good at this.”
“I should’ve started years ago.”
I tried to meet her where she was. I told her growth was possible—that it wasn’t too late. But her response didn’t feel like hers. The voice that replied carried the weight of decades. It was the voice of someone else—maybe a critical parent, a dismissive teacher—parroting lines fed to her long ago. She didn’t question them. She’d adopted them. Owned them.
She never came back.
And truthfully, I’m okay with that. Not from a place of dismissal, but from clarity: I couldn’t reach her because she wasn’t ready to let go of that voice. Maybe part of her needed it—needed to hold on to the familiar script of not being enough. That moment taught me something I didn’t expect:
Not every student returns. And not every voice wants to be replaced.
It Might Sound Like You, But It’s Your Inner Critic
Many of us walk through life echoing the voices we were exposed to—not realizing we’ve mistaken them for our own. The harshness we use on ourselves isn’t native—it was learned. And often, it stayed not because it was true, but because no one taught us how to replace it.
That woman may have left the studio, but she didn’t leave my mind. Not because I expected her to come back. But because she reminded me what happens when someone never questions their critic.
Listening Differently
If you find yourself saying:
- “I should’ve by now…”
- “I’m not someone who can…”
- “Why bother?”
Pause. Ask where that voice came from. Who first put those words into your head? Are they even yours?
If you wouldn’t say it to a child—or a student—you don’t have to say it to yourself.
Choosing a Different Voice
You don’t need to pretend that voice doesn’t exist. But you can invite a new one in:
- One that says, “It’s okay to start now.”
- “You’re not behind; you’re beginning.”
- “You don’t owe perfection to anyone—not even yourself.”
Some students leave. Some voices stay. But your voice—the one that believes, that tries, that forgives—is always an option. Even if it’s quiet at first.
That’s the voice I follow. And the one I share.