Your Inner Dialogue: Friend, Foe, or Quiet Architect?
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Have you ever stopped to wonder what your thoughts are doing behind the scenes? Not the loud ones: the subtle, everyday whispers.
“I’m not good enough.” “What if I fail again?” “Maybe that dream is too big for someone like me.”
For a long time, these were the lines running in the background of my own mind. Not all at once - often quietly, almost politely - but always there. They influenced how I approached life, the opportunities I didn’t take, the hobbies I was scared to try. Even something as simple as cooking felt intimidating, like proof waiting to happen that I wasn’t capable.
Looking back, I ask myself: Was it really lack of skill… or lack of belief?
Our brain learns from what we repeat. Not just actions, thoughts too.
Neuroplasticity means the brain is always wiring and rewiring. The thoughts we revisit most become our defaults. If a thought like “I can't” is repeated often enough, the brain starts to treat it as truth.
Have you ever noticed how once you think you’re bad at something, your mind starts collecting evidence to prove it? Every mistake feels heavier. Every success feels like luck.
Why does the brain do that?
Enter the Reticular Activating System (RAS): a small network in the brainstem that decides what information to notice and what to filter out. It’s like a personal assistant asking:
What matters most to you? What should I look for?
And the answer it gets comes from our thoughts.
Tell it “I'm not good enough,” and it starts highlighting moments that support that belief. Tell it “I can grow,” and suddenly opportunities seem more visible.
It begs a real question: What have we been training our RAS to notice?
For years, I didn't realise how deeply my own internal narrative shaped my life. Sometimes (many times), my narrative was fed by people around me. I compared myself to others. I hesitated to dream too big. I turned down moments that could’ve been joyful or meaningful, convinced I wasn’t ready, smart enough, creative enough.
But the truth? It wasn’t doing something I struggled with: it was believing in my ability.
I guess we have all done that: used a tiny slip-up as evidence of something much larger and heavier?
Not every day is sunny. But what if we started noticing the subtle choices we make?
Do we speak to ourselves with kindness or criticism?
Do we look for what went wrong, or what went well?
Are we living from fear of failure or from curiosity?
Imagine if each thought was a seed: which ones are we watering more often?
Here’s something to try: not as a “task,” but as a gentle check-in:
Notice your automatic thoughts. When you make a mistake, what's the first sentence your mind offers?
Pause and question the story. Is this a fact, or an old habit taking over?
Offer yourself one kinder sentence. Not unrealistic, just softer. From “I can’t” to “I’m learning.” From “I failed” to “I tried, and that matters.”
These shifts reroute the brain. One small thought at a time.
Maybe positivity isn't about pretending life is perfect. Maybe it’s about noticing the way we speak to ourselves, and choosing words that open doors instead of closing them.
Imagine what might happen if we believed we were capable, worthy, and allowed to try. How would we show up differently? What opportunities would feel within reach? How might our future reshape itself around that belief?
Not by magic, but by the quiet power of attention, habit, and hope.
Maybe the question isn’t “Is positive thinking real?” Maybe the real question is: "What could change if I started thinking differently today?"
