The Voice In My Head

One of my favorite things a patient says to me is: "but then I heard your voice in my head."

They weren't describing a specific session or exercise, they were describing a moment. A moment of doubt, or temptation, or fear, where something I said showed up uninvited and nudged them toward a better choice or feeling. 

Just like our parents' voices find their way into our internal monologue, whether we want them to or not, our voices do the same for our patients. The offhand comment you made about their progress matters. The way you reframed their setback matters. What we say in the clinic doesn't stay there. It travels home with them. It shows up at the dinner table, on the court, in the middle of the night, and often for years to come.

You’re not just building bodies–you’re building someone's internal voice. What would you want it to say?