Your Inner Critic: Learning to Listen With Compassion
Written By Latosha Walker
Founder & CEO, Wondering.Waves | Military Spouse | Creator | Storyteller
Published: November 7, 2025
This is Day 7 in my mindfulness series—an honest look at the logic of the inner critic, why it shows up, and how to soften its voice with compassion and encouragement.
The Strange Logic of the Inner Critic
This morning, as I sipped my coffee and looked out at the quiet Texas streets, I couldn’t help but notice how quickly my mind turned to critique. Before I’d even made it to breakfast, my inner critic had already commented on my hair (“messy bun again?”), my to-do list (“you’re already behind”), and the way I’d hesitated before getting out of bed (“why can’t you just get moving?”).
It’s funny—this voice is so familiar, it almost feels like a part of me. But lately, I’ve started to really listen. I’m realizing that my inner critic applies a strange kind of logic. It’s as if it’s trying to protect me: If I think the worst of myself first, maybe I won’t be hurt if someone else criticizes me. If I call myself clumsy, awkward, or unworthy before anyone else can, at least I’m prepared. It’s a strange kind of armor, but it’s armor just the same.
Latosha journals in her cozy Texas nook, gently confronting her inner critic and welcoming the encouragement of her inner cheerleader—a scene of mindful self-reflection, vulnerability, and hope.
The Protective Layer: Where Does It Come From?
I can trace the roots of my inner critic back to childhood—those awkward school days when I longed to fit in, but always felt a step behind. I remember the sting of teasing, the way my cheeks burned when I stumbled over my words, or when my creative ideas were met with rolled eyes. Back then, I learned that if I was hard on myself first, maybe it would soften the blow if someone else joined in.
And as a military spouse, moving from place to place, starting over again and again, that inner critic has followed me. Each new community brings fresh opportunities—and fresh anxieties. Will I fit in? Will people accept me? My inner critic tries to keep me safe by preparing me for disappointment, but it often ends up making me feel isolated and small.
The Myth of the “Helpful” Critic
There’s a part of me that believes the inner critic has a purpose. Maybe it’s there to keep me humble, or to give me that “verbal elbow in the ribs” when I need motivation. Sometimes, I even trick myself into thinking I need its tough love to push me forward or help me make decisions.
But is it really helpful? I think back to my post about mindful self-talk—the way I encourage my friends, the gentle words I offer when they’re struggling. Why is it so hard to offer myself the same kindness? What’s the benefit of telling myself I’m stupid, messy, or bad at something? When my inner voice makes me feel small, anxious, or ashamed, it’s not actually protecting me—it’s holding me back.
The Cost of Unkind Self-Talk
I notice the cost most on days when I’m facing something new—a military spouse event, a creative project, even a simple lunch outdoors (like that spontaneous moment I wrote about on November 5th). My inner critic pipes up: “You’ll say something awkward. You don’t belong. You’re not creative enough.” Sometimes, I listen to that voice and talk myself out of trying. I shrink away from opportunities, worried I’ll fail before I even begin.
Other times, the critic takes aim at my appearance: “You look tired. Why do you bother?” Or my work: “Your writing isn’t good enough. No one will care.” These thoughts don’t motivate me—they drain my energy and make it harder to show up as my true self.
When the Critic Gets Loud: A Personal Story
Last week, I attended a Coffee Connections event for military spouses. I wrote about the anxiety I felt that morning—the way my hands shook as I poured my coffee, the doubts that crowded my mind as I drove to the venue. My inner critic was relentless: “You’ll say something wrong. You’re too quiet. No one will notice you.” By the end of the event, I’d barely spoken, and on the drive home, the critic’s voice was even louder: “See? You don’t belong.”
It’s in moments like these that I see how the inner critic isn’t protecting me—it’s keeping me from connection, from joy, from the possibility of being seen and accepted just as I am.
When the Critic Gets Loud: Sharing My Creativity
A few months ago, I decided to share a new crochet doll design on social media—a project I’d poured my heart into for weeks. As I hovered over the “post” button, my inner critic went into overdrive: “What if no one likes it? What if someone points out a mistake? What if you get zero likes or, worse, a snarky comment?” My hands were actually sweating as I finally hit “publish.”
For the next hour, I found myself checking my phone every few minutes, bracing for criticism or silence. The inner critic was relentless: “You should have waited. It’s not good enough. You’re just asking to be embarrassed.” But when the first few kind comments appeared—friends and fellow makers celebrating my work, sharing how it inspired them—I felt a wave of relief and gratitude.
It made me realize how much power my inner critic had over my willingness to share my creativity. I almost let that voice keep my work hidden. Now, whenever I feel that anxiety rising, I remind myself: being vulnerable is brave, and sharing my story can create connection and encouragement for someone else. The critic’s voice is loud, but the joy of honest expression is louder—if I let it be.
The Critic at Home: Everyday Moments
It isn’t just big events where the critic shows up. Sometimes, it’s as simple as making breakfast. I’ll drop a spoon or forget an ingredient, and the voice pipes up: “Can’t you do anything right?” Or when I’m crocheting a new doll and a stitch goes wrong: “You’re not as talented as you think.” These small moments add up, layering self-doubt over the course of the day.
I see it, too, in the way I care for my home. If the laundry piles up or the dishes aren’t done, the critic is quick to judge: “You’re lazy. You should be better at this by now.” It’s exhausting—and it’s a pattern I know many others experience, especially in the military spouse community where expectations and transitions are so constant.
The Cheerleader vs. the Critic
I’m starting to see that encouragement works better than criticism. When I push myself forward with the voice of a gentle cheerleader—reminding myself that I’m capable, resilient, and learning—I move through challenges with more grace and less fear. The sniping of my inner critic, on the other hand, only makes me shrink away from new experiences or doubt my decisions.
I think back to the way I encouraged my friend on a tough day (as I shared in my last post). I told her, “You are enough. You’re doing your best. It’s okay to have hard days.” What if I offered myself that same support? What if, instead of criticizing, I cheered myself on?
Gentle Practices for Quieting the Critic
Here are a few things that have helped me soften my inner critic’s voice:
1. Journaling With Compassion
When my thoughts start spiraling, I reach for my journal. I write down the harsh words, then gently challenge them: “Is this true? Would I say this to a friend?” Sometimes, I rewrite the criticism as encouragement. “You’re behind” becomes “You’re moving at your own pace.” “You look tired” becomes “You’re showing up, even when it’s hard.”
2. Mindful Pauses
Throughout the day, I practice pausing—taking a deep breath, noticing my surroundings, and checking in with my inner voice. If I catch my critic being harsh, I imagine turning down its volume and inviting in a kinder, more supportive presence.
3. Reframing Mistakes
Instead of seeing mistakes as proof of my inadequacy, I try to view them as opportunities to learn. When my critic says, “You messed up,” I remind myself, “You’re human, and you’re growing.”
4. Celebrating Small Wins
Every time I show up—whether it’s for a new event, a creative project, or a simple act of self-care—I celebrate it. I remind myself that courage isn’t about being perfect; it’s about being willing to try, even when my inner critic is loud.
5. Creating a Safe Space
I’ve learned to make my environment a little sanctuary—a cozy corner with a blanket, a candle, and my favorite mug. When my critic is loud, I retreat there, letting comfort and quiet help me reset. Sometimes, I’ll play soft music or step outside for fresh air to shift my mindset.
6. Naming and Externalizing the Critic
Sometimes I give my inner critic a silly name, imagining it as a cartoon character rather than a core part of myself. “Oh, there’s Grumpy Gertrude again!” Naming it helps me see the critic as just one voice among many, not the ultimate truth.
The Protective Intention Behind the Critic
I try to remember that the inner critic isn’t the enemy. It’s a part of me that wants to keep me safe—sometimes, it just goes about it the wrong way. By noticing its presence, thanking it for its concern, and gently redirecting it, I can start to build a more compassionate relationship with myself.
When Encouragement Works Better
I’m learning that I don’t need to be hard on myself to move forward. Encouragement, patience, and gentle reminders are far more effective than criticism. When I treat myself with kindness, I’m more willing to take risks, try new things, and forgive myself when things don’t go as planned.
The Inner Critic in Community: Shared Struggles
I’ve noticed I’m not alone in this struggle. Conversations with other military spouses, creatives, and friends often turn to the topic of self-doubt. We trade stories of missed opportunities, harsh self-talk, and the pressure to be perfect. It’s comforting to know that many of us are working to quiet our inner critics and replace them with voices of support.
Sometimes, I’ll share my journaling practice or invite a friend to join me for a mindful walk. The simple act of saying “me too” creates space for healing and connection.
A Gentle Intention for Today
Today, my intention is to notice when my inner critic speaks up and to meet it with curiosity instead of judgment. I’ll ask, “What are you trying to protect me from?” and then offer myself the encouragement I need to move forward.
Reflection Prompt
When you notice your inner critic speaking up, what does it sound like? Can you imagine what a gentle, supportive inner voice would say instead? What’s one small way you can encourage yourself today?
With gentleness and hope,
Latosha