Observe the Story: What Am I Telling Myself?

Introduction: The Voice Under the Voice

Most people think voice work starts with talking.

It doesn’t. It starts with listening. Not to others, but to the story playing in your own mind.

I call this the second voice. The internal narrator that comments on everything you do.

For many women of color, that narrator was shaped by a lifetime of messages about what’s acceptable, polite, or “professional.”

If left unchallenged, it can become the script that runs your life on autopilot.

A few common lines I hear in therapy:

Each one sounds harmless until you realize it decides how loudly you speak, how much you ask for, and how much you accept.

Observing the story means noticing these lines in real time without judging them.

Because, once you can hear the script, you can start to edit it.

From a cognitive-behavioral lens, observation creates distance between you and the thought.

It moves you from identity to awareness.

Instead of “I am too much,” it becomes “I just had the thought that I’m too much.”

That tiny shift changes everything. It turns shame into data.

In leadership psychology, this is called metacognition: the ability to think about your thinking.

It’s what separates reaction from choice and keeps emotional intelligence alive under pressure.

Pause before you speak.
Notice the thought that shows up first. Is it permission or protection?
Label it out loud.
“I’m telling myself that I need to sound calm so they don’t think I’m angry.”
Naming the story reduces its power.
Ask whose voice it is.
Is this belief mine or something I inherited?
Observation turns inherited language into conscious choice.
Write a replacement line.
For example: “I can be direct and still be respected.”

Stand in front of a mirror.

Say the sentence, “I have something to say.”

Then listen for the immediate response in your head.

That response is your story.

Write it down. Not to judge it but to meet it.

Because you can’t change a story you won’t acknowledge.

Observation isn’t passive.

It’s the first act of agency.

When you start hearing your own thoughts as data, you regain the power to decide which ones deserve a microphone.

Voice recovery doesn’t start with volume.

It starts with awareness.