The voice in my head

The Voice In My Head


There’s a voice in my head, and I don’t like it.

It’s telling me I have to win.

I have to train more, work harder, do better—and the thing is, it’s making me worse.

Let’s step back for a moment, I’ll give you some background, and the rest of this will make more sense.


Four Years Ago

I quit fencing competitively in 2014 because I was putting too much pressure on myself, and fencing had become a chore to push myself through instead of something I looked forward to.

Four years ago, in the fall of 2018, I moved to New York to fence competitively again, with the goal of making it to the Olympics in 2024.

I’ve gone through various ups and downs since then. The pandemic was a setback, I bounced back well and my results improved in the 2020-2021 season—but they didn’t improve enough; I wasn’t on track to qualify for world cups, much less qualify for the Olympics.

At a training camp over the summer I had a moment where I realized, once again, that I was pushing myself too hard; instead of something I was excited to do, it felt like a job that I had to do. 

It was time for a serious reevaluation.


July, 2022

That week I took a serious look at a couple things, and made some big decisions. I ended a partnership that I had been in for the entirety of the pandemic, and I let go of the dream of going to the Olympics.

I didn’t just give up though, I thought about what I really loved about fencing and competing, and I realized that even if I couldn’t make it to the Olympics, I would love to fence in a world cup again, and so I set my new goal for the season, and possibly for my whole fencing career—to qualify for a world cup.

After a 6 week break, with a completely new approach to competing and a lot less pressure, I began training again in September. A few weeks later, after rigorous mental preparation (and much less rigorous physical preparation) I went to the first NAC of the season, and was blown away by getting 3rd in Div I; equaling my best result ever and accomplishing something I’d truly barely dared to dream of for a decade.

With that result, I qualified for the first two world cups of the season.

Two weeks ago, I went to my first world cup in a decade. I didn’t do amazingly well, but fenced at a competitive level with some of the best fencers in the world. That experience brought me a deeper sense of confidence, and a feeling that I was finally, after all these years, back where I wanted to be.

And that’s when the voice came back.

December 2022 –- Present

The voice that was pushing me all those years ago, the voice that I rejected over the summer when I acknowledged that I wasn’t on a path to the Olympics, the voice that had gotten in the way of my fencing far more than it ever helped, despite that it was trying to make me better.

It was the voice of needing to look good instead of be happy, the voice of insecurity saying I wasn’t good enough unless I did more, and better.

That voice was whispering in my ear all the time.

“But look, you did it. You got to a world cup, without even training that hard—imagine what you could do if you really worked at it. You can do more, you can go farther. Train harder, fencer harder, work harder. You can’t mess this up.”

It was there when I woke up in the morning, telling me I should go to the gym and lift weights, instead of getting focused for my work day.

It was there when I went to practice, telling me I needed to fence smarter, improve more with every bout, get the most out of every lesson (and, by the way, I needed to take more lessons)

It was there when I went to sleep, telling me I needed to go to bed earlier so I could be more recovered so when I woke up in the morning to go to the gym I could get in a good workout and focus at work before going to practice and squeezing every bit of training I could out of the day before coming home and getting to bed . . . late again.

That voice is insidious, and sneaky, and hard to hear but harder to ignore. It gets in my head and makes it hard to see what I really need—because that voice is blinded by what it it thinks I want.

I don’t really want to go to the Olympics, or win nationals, or even get another top 8 at a NAC.


Sure, I would like to do those things, it would be nice.

What I really want is to feel good about myself, to feel comfortable and secure in my own skin—and I have slowly come to realize that I will never get that from winning fencing competitions.


So, this week I’m once again stepping back from the voice that pushes me, stepping back from training like it’s my job.

I’m refocusing on why I like fencing, and doing it in a way that fits in with my life, and my values, and my mental health.

And you know what?

I think I’m going to fence better this way too.

I guess we’ll see at the January NAC. Even as I write that I hear that voie—I feel it in my body, saying “you have to prove you’re right, you have to do well, get a good result!”

But I don’t.

What I have to do, is seek out a state of mind that allows me to be happy with my fencing, and myself, regardless of what the outcome is. 

Because win or lose, I’m fencing to have fun.

P.S. If you’ve got a voice in your head that won’t shut up, or keep having doubts about your fencing—well, I don’t have all the answers, but I’m happy to talk it through with you, and I have a few ideas and techniques that might help.

Click here to get on my waiting list for 1-on-1 coaching and I’ll reach out to set up a consultation (the initial consultation is free of charge)