Scarlett had a problem.
Not a big problem. Not the kind you could see.
It was a small problem. An invisible one.
It lived somewhere just behind her ears.
And it talked a lot.
When Scarlett tried something new, the voice said: What if you get it wrong?
When Scarlett put her hand up in class, the voice said: What if everyone laughs?
When Scarlett looked in the mirror before school, the voice said: You don’t look right today.
The voice wasn’t mean, exactly.
It just worried. All the time. About everything.
One evening, Scarlett sat with Lenny and told him about the voice.
“I have one too,” said Lenny.
Scarlett blinked. “You do?”
“Everyone does,” said Lenny. “The question is what voice you choose to listen to.”
Scarlett frowned. “Choose?”
“There’s another voice,” said Lenny. “A quieter one. It doesn’t shout. But it’s there.”
Scarlett went very still and listened.
She listened past the worrying voice.
Past the what ifs and the what if nots.
And there — very quietly — she heard something else.
You can do this.
You’re doing your best.
I’m proud of you.
Scarlett’s eyes went wide. “That voice sounds like you.”
Lenny smiled. “It sounds like you. You put it there. Every kind thing anyone has ever said to you — you stored it. It’s been there all along.”
That night, Scarlett practised.
When the worrying voice spoke, she didn’t argue with it.
She just turned the volume down.
And turned the quiet voice up.
It didn’t fix everything.
But it helped.
That, Scarlett thought as she fell asleep, is the beginning of something.
🫶 Dream big dreams.