That voice in your head that tells you you’re not enough, or not doing it right — it isn’t truth.
Where the critic comes from
The critic didn’t appear out of nowhere. It learned its lines from the voices around you — parents, teachers, peers, culture. Any environment where love or safety felt conditional teaches the brain to self-monitor.
It’s a primitive form of protection: If I judge myself first, others can’t hurt me as much. The strategy works, until it doesn’t. What began as armour becomes restriction.
At a glance
- The inner critic forms from early experiences of judgment, shame, or fear.
- It tries to keep you safe by anticipating rejection or failure.
- Listening isn’t the problem — believing it is.
- Therapy helps you recognise, challenge, and soften that voice without losing self-awareness.
The inner critic starts as a bodyguard and ends up a jailer.
Sometimes that little voice in our head keeps us safe, as it stops us going out of our comfort zone, but that also restricts us from growing or developing too.
Its Many Disguises
The critic rarely introduces itself directly. It hides in familiar thoughts:
- You should have known better.
- Don’t make a fuss.
- You’ll never catch up.
- They’ll leave if they see the real you.
For some, it sounds like a parent; for others, a boss, a teacher, or their own distorted echo. It can be sharp and punitive or calm and undermining. Either way, it speaks in certainty — and certainty is its disguise.
Why We Keep Listening
The critic offers an illusion of control. If you can pre-empt every mistake, you won’t be rejected. The problem is that perfection doesn’t exist, so the critic keeps moving the goalposts.
Part of you believes that self-attack equals motivation. In reality, shame narrows the brain’s capacity to learn. You might work harder, but never feel safer. The critic doesn’t build resilience; it breeds exhaustion.
The Body’s Reaction
Criticism isn’t just mental. The body tightens, breath shortens, shoulders rise. That physiological reaction reinforces the message: danger. Over time, your system learns to brace even before you’ve done anything wrong.
Recognising the critic’s physical footprint helps you pause sooner. When you notice tension creeping in, you can ask, What is this voice trying to protect me from?
Challenging Without Denying
Silencing the critic entirely isn’t realistic — or desirable. It sometimes carries useful information, just wrapped in hostility. The goal is translation, not eradication.
When it says, You’re useless, try rephrasing: You’re scared you won’t manage — what do you need right now? Turning accusation into curiosity shifts you from defence to dialogue.
A way to manage the inner critic is this: bring it external. Would you talk to a friend like that?
No? Then don’t take instruction from a voice you’d never trust out loud
Re-Parenting the Voice
In therapy, we often treat the critic as a younger part of you — a child still trying to earn safety. Speaking to it with compassion feels awkward at first, especially if you’re used to responding with scorn or silence.
But consistency matters. Over time, that internal dialogue softens. You begin to distinguish the critic’s fear from your own values. Its volume drops because it’s finally being heard.
The Role of Culture
Society rewards self-criticism disguised as ambition. We glorify “pushing through” and label rest as laziness. For many, the critic isn’t only personal — it’s collective. Recognising this context helps loosen its grip. You’re not flawed; you’re fluent in a cultural language of inadequacy. Learning a new one takes practice.
Small Shifts
The critic thrives on extremes. Gentle middle ground disarms it.
- Notice when it speaks.
- Name it (“That’s my critic talking”).
- Ground your body before replying.
- Replace judgment with description: I’m tired, not I’m failing.
Each time you do this, you reclaim a sliver of mental space. Eventually, those slivers join up into calm.
It doesn’t vanish – it fades
The inner critic doesn’t vanish overnight. It fades through recognition, patience, and new evidence — moments where you act kindly and nothing bad happens.
Therapy helps you see that this voice isn’t your enemy, just an overzealous guardian who’s forgotten you’ve grown. With time, you can thank it for its service and take back the microphone.
