The Warden

Throughout The Problem Was Me, I refer to the warden, an imaginary person with a bat, who sat on my shoulder. Whenever someone made me feel defective, he would come out swinging.  The warden instilled in me a peculiar definition of intimacy. Intimacy meant pain, and should be avoided. The warden was trying to protect me from getting too close to anyone.  This imaginary guy on my shoulder has been with me a long time, as far back as I can remember. His motive for using the bat is to take a swing at me should I ever get the idea that I deserve to be happy or if I stumble and make a mistake. He permits me no margin for error.

The warden becomes the little voice inside our heads that won’t go away. The little voice keeps us imprisoned by reminding us of the intrusive messages we received in childhood over and over again. Childhood wounds are reopened, isolating us from others. We play roles in our lives that can bring harmful consequences to others and to ourselves. We wear masks to hide who we really are. The little voice makes us feel ashamed and unworthy. We become self-centered, causing us to feel that we have the right to something regardless of the harm it causes others. We call this destructive entitlement.

The warden’s voice inside our heads repeats that we do not deserve to be happy. His voice leads us to sabotage happiness when it comes our way. He is so powerful that even though he imprisons us to destructive roles in our lives, we listen to him. The warden keeps us emotionally shackled and orders us to keep our doors locked, so no one can enter. The Problem Was Me provides the key to unlocking that door and allowing happiness into our lives.