You talk to yourself more than anyone else ever will.
The question isn’t whether you’re listening- it’s whether the voice sounds like love.
Self-affirmations aren’t about lying to yourself or pretending everything is fine. They’re about choosing a tone. The same way you’d never speak to someone you love with cruelty, urgency, or contempt, self-talk asks us to offer that same tenderness inward.
And still, self-affirmations have been oversold. Turned into slogans slapped on mirrors and mugs. So if you’re rolling your eyes right now, I get it.
Stay with me.
A book I recommend to nearly every client of mine is Soundtracks by Jon Acuff. Not because it promises a shiny fix for overthinking, it doesn’t, but because it offers a relatable way to notice how we talk to ourselves.
Acuff uses a simple metaphor: your thoughts are soundtracks.
And whether you realize it or not, you wake up every morning with something already playing.
Your brain is waiting for you each day.
Waiting to be told what to think.
Waiting to see which tracks you’ll replay.
The surprising part isn’t that our thoughts shape our lives, we’ve known that for a long time. The surprising part is how automatic those thoughts become… and how gently they can be changed.
Of course, this idea isn’t new. Long before “neuroplasticity” became a buzzword, psychologists noticed something quietly powerful: when people return to core truths about who they are- especially during moments of stress the nervous system softens. Heart rate slows. Stress hormones like cortisol decrease. The body shifts out of threat mode and into a state where reflection becomes possible and perspective widens.
Rather than collapsing into self-defense or shame, people become more resilient, more flexible, more able to respond instead of react
This is the heart of self-affirmation. Not self-praise. Not hype.
But reminders of what already matters.
Affirmations are easy to dismiss because we’ve seen them used poorly. Offered too quickly to people who are actually hurting. When used detached from reality it’s no wonder they can feel hollow.
But when affirmations are grounded in truth and practiced as relationship rather than performance, they become something else entirely.
If your thoughts were a song, would you put it on repeat for someone you love?
On October 7th, 2024, I started an almost unremarkable practice.
Each day, I write three “who I am” statements.
Not goals.
Not mantras I shout into a mirror.
Just truths.
I am resilient.
I am courageous.
I am a learner.
I am loving.
I am joyful.
Some days they change. Some days they repeat. There are a few I come back to again and again… the ones I most need to remember and the ones I seem to forget precisely when I need them most.
What surprised me is how this practice became both a healing companion and a skill. It didn’t erase hard days or silence every critical thought. But it gave me somewhere to return when my mind got sharp, or small, or loud.
These sentences became familiar. Steady. Patient. Trustworthy.
Companionship offered in hard moments.
That’s the quiet power of talking to yourself with care. It doesn’t demand perfection. It builds relationship.
So here’s the invitation I’ll leave you with:
You don’t have to change every thought.
Just choose one kinder sentence today.
Say it again tomorrow.
Let it become familiar.
Love, after all, is rarely loud.
But it is consistent.
And it always starts with how we speak to ourselves.