When you’re a kid, you’re pretty much at the mercy of the environment you grow up in – and the people who inhabit that environment.  You can’t pack your fucking bags and move to Podunk when you’re three, that’s just the way it goes.

And so, we learn to adjust. 

We learn to eat the food that we’re given.  And sometimes, that food comes in the form of some pretty negative beliefs – pretty negative realities.  We get told that we’re an idiot.  We get yelled at.  Maybe we get beaten.  Maybe we get emotionally abused, or even worse.  We come to find out, sometimes, that the love that we really want is highly conditional and based upon how well we fall in line, or dance to someone else’s music.

As we get older though, we sometimes continue on with those beliefs.  We can hear those stories again and again in our heads.  And though the voices might sound like the people who said those things – it might even be their words – sometimes, those people have been out of our lives for years or even decades.  Maybe they’re even dead. 

So, the question is, “Whose voice is it, really…?”