Why Am I So Hard on Myself?

 Have you ever noticed how quickly that inner commentary starts?

You forget something.

How could I forget that?

You remember something you said yesterday.

Why did I say that?

You look at the ridiculously long list of things you intended to get done.

What have I actually done all day?

Sometimes it can start within minutes of opening our eyes.

We probably wouldn't speak to somebody else the way we chunner to ourselves.   In fact, if another person followed us around all day pointing out everything we'd done wrong, we'd probably stop inviting them round — or hide behind the curtains when they knocked on the door.

And yet we can become so accustomed to our own internal commentary that we barely notice it.

My inner critic has a character.  He reminds me of the puppet - Mr Punch.

He follows me around enthusiastically shouting:

"That's the way to do it!"

Whilst waving his arms around.

He has opinions about most things.

His biggest problem?  His delivery definitely needs work.

Why am I so critical of myself?

We often talk about the inner critic as though it's something we need to get rid of.

But I'm not sure Mr Punch is actually the enemy.

In his own rather enthusiastic way, he thinks he's helping.

Bear with me here and just think about some of the things our inner critic says:

You should have done that better.

Don't make that mistake again.

You need to try harder.

What will they think of you?

There's often something underneath the criticism that makes a little more sense.

• We want to do well.
• We don't want to make mistakes.
• We do care what other people think.
• We want to learn.
• We may even be trying to protect ourselves from getting something wrong again.

The problem isn't necessarily the intention.

It's the delivery.

And whilst it may land like a lead balloon, most of the time we simply take it on the chin!  And that’s if we notice it at all.

Why does being hard on ourselves feel useful?

One reason self-criticism can be difficult to let go of is that we have a sense that it keeps us on our toes.

And sometimes that seems to work.

We pull our socks up.

We try harder.

We get things done.

We avoid making the same mistake again.

So if criticism appears to be motivating us, why would we want to change it?

This is one of the common unspoken views about living with more self-compassion.

If I stop being hard on myself, will my standards slip?

Will I start making excuses?

Will I simply let myself off the hook?

There’s now a growing body of research into self-compassion, and it challenges the idea that we need to be hard on ourselves in order to improve.  Self-compassion doesn’t mean abandoning our standards.  It can support our motivation to learn and improve, but with encouragement and constructive feedback rather than harsh self-criticism.

So perhaps there’s another way. 

And for me it’s about this one important distinction.

Responsibility isn't the same as punishment

Imagine you've had a conversation that didn't go particularly well.

Completely without invitation and probably sometime later, the post-match analysis begins.

Why did I say that?

I wish I'd handled that differently.

What must they think of me?

Why do I always do this?

And often reflection can be useful.

Perhaps I shouldn't have said what I said.

Perhaps I need to apologise.

Perhaps there is something about my reaction that I'd like to understand.

Perhaps I want to handle things differently next time.

That's responsibility.

But somewhere along the way, reflection can turn into:

I'm such an idiot.

And I'm not sure that final bit adds anything useful at all.

Self-compassion isn’t removing responsibility. It gives us an opportunity to remove the punishment.

We can still ask:

What can I learn from this?

Is there something I need to put right?

What might I do differently next time?

We just don't necessarily need the accompanying character assassination.

How do I quieten my inner critic?

There’s a lot of social media chat about quietening the inner critic but ironically, there's another little trap waiting for us here.

We become aware of how critical we're being and think:

Oh, I'm doing it again.

Why am I so negative?

I really need to stop doing this.

I'm terrible at self-compassion.

Now we’re criticising ourselves for being self-critical.

So it’s understandable that we think the answer is to shut down Mr Punch.

But perhaps Mr Punch isn’t deliberately trying to make life difficult.  In his own way, he thinks he’s helping.  

And if we’re not careful, we end up in an inner battle:

One part of us is criticising ourselves

Another part is fighting to shut the criticism down.

Meanwhile, we’re stuck in the middle trying desperately to reclaim our peace.

So what if there was a simpler way?

Maybe Mr Punch doesn't need evicting after all

Because mindfulness isn't about getting rid of difficult thoughts.

It's about becoming more aware of what's happening, with less judgement and a little more curiosity.

That distinction matters.

Instead of:

I need to stop thinking like this.

Perhaps:

Ah. Mr Punch is here.

We can notice the commentary.

We can acknowledge it.

We might even recognise that this critical part of us believes it's doing something useful.

And then we can decide whether we actually need to follow its advice.

We can listen without automatically agreeing.

That's quite different from either believing everything our inner critic says or trying desperately to silence it.

And perhaps there's compassion in that too.

We don't have to make the inner critic another part of ourselves that needs fixing.

We can recognise that it's part of us.

A part that may be trying to protect us, motivate us or prevent us from getting things wrong.

Even if tact isn’t its strong point.

It’s still a part of us - and perhaps one we can meet with kindness rather than another layer of criticism.

Self-compassion isn't about pretending everything is fine

This is where I think self-compassion can sometimes be misunderstood.

It doesn't mean:

Never mind.

It doesn't matter.

I couldn't help it.

Sometimes it does matter.

Sometimes we've got something wrong.

Sometimes we need to apologise, change our behaviour or have a conversation we'd rather avoid.

Self-compassion doesn't stop us doing those things.

It changes the way we accompany ourselves while we do them.

Instead of:

What's wrong with me?

We might ask:

What happened there?

Instead of:

Why do I always do this?

Perhaps:

Ah. I did that again. How interesting.

One closes the conversation with a judgement.

The other leaves enough space to learn something.

How can mindfulness help with a harsh inner critic?

We can understand all of this intellectually and still find ourselves halfway through an internal argument before we've realised it's happening.

That's where practice becomes important.

Mindfulness gives us opportunities to notice thoughts without automatically becoming caught up in them.

We notice.

We get distracted.

We notice again.

Until gradually we begin to become more familiar with what's happening in our own minds.

Not so that we can police every thought.

Not so we can become brilliant at mindfulness – and then criticise ourselves when we're not.

But so that we have a little more opportunity to recognise:

Ah. There it is.

And pause before we react.

Mr Punch can shout "That's the way to do it!" as loud as he likes.

I can hear him.

I can acknowledge that he's there.

But I don't have to hand him the steering wheel.

Changing the conversation

Perhaps becoming less self-critical isn't about silencing the inner critic at all.

Maybe it's about changing our relationship with it.

Recognising when criticism has appeared.

Becoming curious about what it's trying to achieve.

Taking responsibility when responsibility is needed.

And gradually learning that we don't always have to punish ourselves in order to grow.

We can be compassionate towards the part of us that hasn't yet learned a gentler way to speak.

And perhaps, over time, Mr Punch can learn something too.

His intentions may not be all bad.

But we're definitely going to have to work on his delivery.

How can a daily mindfulness practice help with your inner critic?

Understanding our inner critic is one thing.

Noticing it in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday when we've forgotten something, made a mistake or said the wrong thing is another.

That's where regular practice can help.

The Just Breathe App offers daily support and gentle mindfulness practices to help you notice your thoughts, step out of automatic patterns and gradually nurture a kinder inner dialogue.

Explore the Just Breathe App

And perhaps there's one question worth taking away with you:

How do you speak to yourself when nobody else can hear?

About the author 

Julie Perrigo MSc is a Stress and Emotional Awareness Specialist, mindfulness teacher and creator of the Stress Interruption Method.

She holds an MSc in Mindfulness from the University of Aberdeen, where her postgraduate research explored the use of a structured digital mindfulness programme to support stress and emotional wellbeing. Julie combines her research and teaching experience with more than 25 years working in corporate environments.

She is also the author of The Emotional Hustle and founder of Just Breathe Solutions, where her work focuses on helping people understand the patterns that can keep stress going and develop practical skills to interrupt them.