If you’re like a lot of my clients, you have a self-critical voice.
It’s not an anomaly. You’re not an anomaly.
We often grow up feeling like we’re not quite sure of our place. We’re not quite sure if we belong.
As a result, we learn to be vigilant. We learn to be aware of our behaviour, and whether it (i.e. we) fits in or not.
We learn that certain things are acceptable, and certain things are not. We tend to learn quickly. And we tend to deeply embed these lessons — particularly when we have done something that is not acceptable or approved of.
You may have your own ways of fitting in. You may believe you have to be competent. You may believe you have to be academic. You may believe you have to be likable. Your beliefs will be shaped by your upbringing and culture.
And you will learn to police your behaviours.
You will learn what is right and what is wrong. It will be easier to apply a blanket policy of what is right and wrong, than to try to apply nuance to every situation, and risk getting it incorrect.
Because you are aware and you learn things, you will see that other people use criticism as a way to keep behaviour ‘in check.’ And you will learn to copy this and apply it to yourself.
You are not an anomaly. You are doing something very smart with the resources you have.
However, there comes a cost.
It is very painful to hear constant criticism of yourself. It is very painful to be the source of that criticism.
Because we’re so practised at it, it’s very hard to untangle that self-critical identity from the rest of ourselves.
You weren’t born with it. But it is currently a part of you.
Sometimes we can feel very angry towards this part of ourself. “Why can’t it just go away?”
It can’t go away; because, even if its delivery is incredibly harsh and bullying at times, it’s trying to protect you. It’s trying to protect you from ‘getting it wrong.’ From ‘making a fool of yourself.’ It’s trying to protect you from failure and disappointment.
It is trying to keep you safe — even though, at times, it will feel incredibly hurtful.
The key to remember is that the intention is safety.
No matter what, it is always trying to keep you safe. It’s trying to keep you in the familiar.
It is trying to help you survive.
The problem is, it doesn’t always know what’s best for us. It doesn’t have any better idea than we do about what we need to survive.
It’s a bit like having a nervous passenger in the car; you’re driving, but it’s really scared you’re going to crash, so it takes the wheel instead. It’s trying to keep you both safe, but it can end up getting you derailed.
(A note on survival: sometimes that harsh inner critical voice can be so harsh that it ends up telling us we’d be better off dead. This could be called an extreme version of our inner critic. Personally, I think it wants us to be no longer in pain. This is obviously a permanent solution to what is usually a temporary problem, and not one I would recommend in almost all situations. However, I want to acknowledge our thoughts can be very compelling; there’s always reason behind what we do.)
So, you have a part of you that polices you.
How do you get it to stop?
The first part is to remember the safety. It wants you to be safe. Or at least spare you from pain — that it thinks you are likely to experience if you act in a way that ignores its advice.
(A note on when your critical voice is active after something has happened: It wants to spare you from future pain. ‘Learn this lesson well and take it to heart’ so you never experience this level of disappointment, embarrassment, or exposure again.)
The second part is to try understand what it’s protecting you from.
There are different ways you can do this. One simple thing you can do is write down, “What am I afraid of?”
(And yes, it helps to write it down because then you create a distance between the part of you asking the question, and the part of you that answers.)
Get a piece of paper. Write down, “What am I afraid of?” at the top of the page. Take a moment, maybe close your eyes.
Be curious. Don’t judge. Write down what comes.
Once you see what you have written, just notice. Don’t try to fix it or dismiss it. Just read and see how each sentence lands. Where does it land? How does it feel? What feels more intense, and what less so?
The reason I ask you to notice like this is to practise noticing — and relating to yourself — without judgement.
Criticism is judgement. And if you’re in the habit of judging yourself (no judgement; I’ve done this plenty too), then you will find yourself naturally leaping to criticism. The first step to unwinding this habit (and the third part of our process) is to notice your own fears without judging.
‘Not judging’ might feel hard. “What else is my brain supposed to do??”
That’s why it can help to pay attention to the sensations that come up for you as you notice. Pay attention to the bodily responses, the feelings within — without making them mean anything more than “I am having a bodily response.”
This can be hard. We are so used to making and applying meaning to our responses. But these are learned. We learn to interpret our bodily responses from the people and culture around us. We learn that certain sensations mean ‘embarrassment,’ while others might mean ‘excitement.’ Sometimes we feel we don’t have the correct language to describe exactly what is going on in our bodies or minds.
We are able to experience without language. We are able to experience the sensations going on in our body without applying criticism or judgement. Where it doesn’t have to mean anything ‘good’ or ‘bad’; it just is.
Read through your fears with neutrality. To be clear, I don’t mean, ‘don’t care.’ I don’t mean ‘dismiss them as worthless or not relevant.’
But, for a moment, read them as if you didn’t already know the outcome. Read them as if you didn’t know the person writing them. Read them as if this was your first time reading, or trying to understand what, and who, was behind these fears. Be more curious about how your mind and body relates to them, than what they mean for you in terms of your achievements or survival.
This creates space. This widens our viewpoint. We are no longer so critically focused, laser-like, on our flaws and deficiencies.
How do you stop criticising yourself? You widen your view.
This takes time and practice. But, as you do, you will feel a whole lot freer.
You can always go back to your criticisms and judgements. No one is going to take them away from you. However, you may find you prefer yourself, and the world around you, when it’s not so self-critical ‘in there.’ You may find you never want to go back ;) And I can say this for sure; you will deeply appreciate having the choice.
Much love,
Kathryn
PS. If you’d like to work together I currently have some coaching spots available. I work on a 1-1 basis, usually over a period of 6 months, and I help my clients untangle their self-doubt and live lives where they like themselves a lot more. (I know, it’s a miracle ;) And that’s why I love it.) Our work is about creating self-acceptance, self-trust, and learning to rewrite stories (internal narratives) that may be out of date. It’s gentle but mind-blowing. If you’d like to experience it for yourself, you can check out my coaching page details, or book a consultation call here.