Meet my inner critic, Grandma Wall. 

This was an excellent course again, thank you Lucy! I’ve known where my inner critic has its roots, but making it, her, visible in this way make it all so much clearer. 

Grandma Wall looks a lot like me (which might be one reason I don’t like photos taken of me?), because she is my late grandmother. I don’t remember her ever laughing or smiling, I don’t remember ever seeing her hair, always a scarf very tightly wrapped, a knot under her chin. She had hard times and grief during war times, and somehow joy of life was swiped out of her understanding. Joy and enjoyment was dangerous because it can be taken away. 

The photo is bw because she only wore grey clothes. I wish I had found her headscarf - I know I still have somewhere her ”better” scarf, which she used in special occasions. It is black. 

The photo need to be grey also because I now understand that she took all the colour away from my life too. Or tried to. I also understand that she tried to protect me from disappointments and grief of loosing something important or dear to me. I remember how she took me for long walks to the cemetery and told me how my parents will end up there too, and then I won’t be special to anyone, and I have to manage on my own. I was 4 and horrified. No signs of love. She probably meant well, as I was her only grandchild, but her lessons have done a lot of damage in my life. Her dooming voice somehow made a stronger impact than my mother’s, who was in many ways opposite. 

Why the name, Grandma Wall? A small revelation for me there; we called her ”seinämummu” Grandma Wall, because she lived in an apartment next to us, behind the wall. Now the name tells me also about the walls my inner critic has built around me. I’m very curious how this exercise will effect in future, does she finally soften a bit, let me try softer, let me 'wear color'?

I don’t know if I have enough courage to share this image in social media. Will get there, at least I’ll try. Softer.