Stop Beating Yourself Up: How to Replace Self-Criticism with Self-Compassion
One Such Moment
In junior high, I had a solo at a Christmas event. Not just any Christmas event. Austin’s famed Trail of Lights. Meaning, this was no backyard BBQ, or school play, or church pageant, where only a handful of folks would hear me. It was singing one of the harder Christmas songs ("Silent Night") in front of any city dweller or tourist who felt like listening over cups of SwissMiss purchased from a local vendor dressed as Santa and Mrs. Claus.
At the time, I suffered from perfectionism. My insecurities had me believing that the only way I would be good enough was if I was perfect. Not really the mindset one needs for hitting a high note outside in winter. Did I mention it was acapella?!
Anyway, I’m building to the big note and I don't nail it. At least to me, it sounds like I don't nail it. I immediately start criticizing myself in my head. “What will they think?” “They’ll think I’m not any good.” “I won’t get another solo.” “How could I have messed that up? I practiced so hard…” etc., etc.
I finished the song on autopilot. Then sunk back into the rest of the choir to finish our set of songs as a group. I thought I would never get off that stage and out of the spotlights.
I can’t remember if I started crying to my mom as soon as I saw her, or just started telling her how I messed up…blah blah, spilling out my internal monologue. What I do remember, though, is my mom saying,
“Rachel you did nail it. Sometimes as singers, we get so worried about what might happen around a scary note that we can't hear ourselves correctly. You did an amazing job. No one would have thought you doubted yourself until you made that face when you thought you messed up."
(I have always loved that I could count on my mom to tell me what’s what.)
Apparently, my inner monologue was not so inner after all but was instead written across my face for the rest of the performance.
When You’re In the Arena
Brene Brown reminded us all of the Teddy Roosevelt speech, “The Man in the Arena.” When you’re outside your comfort zone and in the arena, it is scary. You’re vulnerable. You can’t even pretend to have control over the outcome. You’re simply taking action in hopes of…what?
The “what” is what will help determine whether that battle is a victory.
If you go in hoping for a specific outcome that you have no control over (e.g. landing the deal, delivering a perfect performance), then you will lose. Even if you land the deal or nail the high note, it’s in a way a loss because all you did was reinforce to yourself that that is how you should set goals—setting outcome goals that you have no control over.
If instead, you set action goals, goals that you have full control over, you will win every time. Even win you lose. What if my goal had been to have fun instead of to sing perfectly? What if your goal wasn’t to land the deal but instead to deliver a presentation that you were proud of and teach your team how to pitch a client that feels out of your “league”?
What if your goal was simply to step into the arena in the first place?
Overcoming Self-Criticism
One of the areas I help my clients with is self-criticism and self-compassion. Sometimes, we use an exercise that allows them to think about their inner critic as a third person. They can then ask and answer questions like:
What is the critic’s purpose in my life? What is its job?
How does the critic perform its job? What actions does it take?
How well does it do its job?
How much energy does doing the critic's job require?
For example, "Sally's" critic tries to keep her safe and pain-free. It does this by talking smack to her whenever she steps outside her comfort zone for a pitch because that way if she doesn't get the business, she's not disappointed. It's in fact expected that she won’t get the business. So, if she does get the business, then it's a pleasant surprise. One of her critic’s top skills is self-deprecating humor.
At first glance, the critic does its job really well. But the more Sally thinks about it, the more she realizes that her critic isn’t good at its job because she is not pain-free. She still feels disappointment and self-inflicted pain from playing itself, talking down to herself, and not winning the business.
This helps Sally realize that it might be time to fire the critic, or at least bench her for a while. Because, obviously, you are your critic. We all are our own worst critics.
I’m guessing you don’t have the time or energy to waste on tactics that don’t work. And that’s all the critic is. A tactic you developed that perhaps used to play a role but no longer serves you.
To help bench your critic, one possible next step is the next time you experience your critic hopping off the bench, have a little one-to-one sidebar and say, "Hey, I see and hear you. I appreciate you are trying to keep me safe and all, but I'm good. I don't need you to do that right now. Park “your butt back on the bench.” (or whatever dialogue works for you).
Boosting Self-Compassion
Self-compassion is a skill you can sharpen. It involves three practices: self-kindness (treating yourself like you would a friend), common humanity (recognizing you are part of something bigger rather than isolated and alone), and mindfulness (which allows you to observe and label your thoughts instead of reacting to them.)
For tips on boosting your self-compassion, check out these resources.
And if you’d like some personalized help, grab a complimentary strategy session here.