Join the Little Buddha list Get 20 free gifts including challenges, workbooks and more!
“Remember, you’ve been criticizing yourself for years, and it hasn’t worked. Try to approve of yourself and see what happens.” ~ Lewis L. Hay
There it was – clearly visible on the page. An embarrassing typo stared back at me from the back of a brochure I received from the printer. A brochure that I wrote, designed and, yes, gave the final sign-off to create.
My stomach tightened as tears rolled down my eyes.
“You fool,” I shouted silently to myself.
In an instant, a flash of the same mistakes I’ve made over a long career in communications, piling up in the present moment and creating a familiar haze of self-loathing. The thought that began”if only” and finished”you know better” Swirled in my mind, untethered from any sense of proportion.
I knew I was coming down on myself way more than I needed to. Considering the sheer amount of print material I’ve produced over the years, errors have been rare. But as a perfectionist, each one landed heavily—especially when I could see, in retrospect, where I’d put deadlines before the process.
When will I learn? The voice continued.
A default setting is triggered After a few days, that single typo colored everything, silently tainting my vision.
But work mistakes were not my only place The inner critic displayed
Once, during a disagreement with my partner, I relentlessly argued my point. Even as the conversation unfolded, I could get a small, nagging feeling that I was wrong—or at least not quite right. Still, I doubled down. Being right is more important than being honest, more important than being fair.
The moment passed, but the feeling lingered. A few hours later I replayed the exchange, seeing my stubbornness. I could see how my need to protect my ego overrode my integrity. The self-talk that followed was brutal: Why couldn’t you just admit you were wrong? Why do you always have to win?
Another time, I justified lashing out at someone who annoyed me. I told myself they deserved it. i was tired I have a lot going on. My response, I reasoned, was understandable.
Except later, it didn’t seem that way.
Long after the burning subsided, a familiar heaviness crept in. I didn’t feel righteous—I felt small. I replayed my tone, my words, the look on their faces. And once again, my inner critic seized the moment, cataloging the interaction as evidence of my flaws.
Fast forward to a recent dinner with a longtime friend—one of the kindest, and most trustworthy, people I know. Left unchecked, that belief taught him some hard lessons: a verbal contract with a landscaper that offered him no shelter and lending money to a co-worker who quietly disappeared are two examples.
He is not incapable of learning. Over time, she’s put safeguards in place to help stop him and check his instincts — and often, those efforts have paid off.
That night, she was unusually calm.
When I asked how she was, she said she was fine. When I pressed gently, she told me what happened. Someone messaged him, claiming they had mistakenly sent money to his account through a digital payment app. He checked, saw the funds and immediately sent them back – only to discover later that the transaction was fraudulent
“I didn’t think so,” she said, her voice heavy. “I’m such an idiot. I know better.”
He clenched his fists and tapped them against the table as he spoke. I reached over and wrapped my arms around him gently, stopping their momentum—and his spiral.
“Hey,” I said. “You made real progress by finding scams and questioning people’s motives. This was a stumble, not a setback. Think of it as a reminder to slow down and use the tools you already have.”
In the midst of reassuring my friend, a nagging question came up.
Why don’t I talk to myself as kindly as I talk to others?
Perhaps you have had a similar experience. You offer encouragement to friends when they stumble and soften your voice when someone you love is struggling. Yet when you Mistake or underestimate At a target, your voice becomes sharp and critical. The compassion you freely give to others is nowhere to be found.
The reasons for this disconnection are various. For example:
You were criticized as a child
Initial criticism may become internalized. When praise was lacking or standards seemed impossible to meet, many of us learned to equate love with acting—and carried that voice into adulthood.
You are a perfectionist
perfectionism Trains the mind to scan for errors. Mistakes seem loud, while successes barely register. What looks like motivation is often fear in disguise.
You grew up with high expectations
Even without overt criticism, the constant pressure to excel can quietly suggest that who you are is not enough until you achieve.
You experience abuse
when Damage occurs in childhoodIt is often interpreted as personal failure. That misplaced blame can later manifest as relentless self-judgment.
These patterns make it easy to get inside our heads, replay moments and magnify missteps. The mind becomes a place of constant evaluation, rarely offering mercy or grace.
For me, there was an air of expected achievement woven throughout my childhood and teenage years. However, although my parents sometimes shared my frustration when I fell short academically, I always knew their love was not tied to my GPA. Yet, my own perfectionism took root early on, forming a critical inner voice.
That self-criticism deepens in youth. Mistakes began to feel dangerous, tied to my livelihood and sense of security. This was compounded by a marriage in which love and approval were highly conditional, causing flaws and imperfections to carry a heavier emotional cost.
Until I recognized how low my self-esteem had fallen, I was completely consumed with self-judgment. Each mistake triggers familiar, rehearsed dialogues of self-deprecation. I became my own harshest critic – aiming weaponized words at myself that I would never dream of directing at another person.
That’s when I realized that this voice wasn’t helping me—it was hurting me. And I started looking for a different way to relate to myself.
Learning to break out of that cycle didn’t happen overnight. But there were clear, compassionate changes that helped me treat myself with the same care I gave others.
Cultivating Self-Compassion: 7 Steps to Being Kind to Yourself
1. Notice your inner critic.
Pay attention to the voice inside your head. When you catch yourself Hard thinkingPause and identify them: Ah, that’s my inner critic talking.
For example, when I realize a deadline has slipped through the cracks, my mind immediately goes into attack mode. The criticism was swift and familiar: How did you make this happen? you are incompetent Just by noticing that voice, I created some space—enough to observe it and take the first step toward learning a different way to respond.
2. Talk to yourself as you would a friend.
Once you’ve noticed the inner critic, ask yourself how you would respond if a friend were in the same situation. If a friend tells me they missed a deadline, I don’t question their merit or worth. I will remind them of everything they juggle and help them think about next steps. Offering myself that same perspective softened the tone of my internal dialogue and created space for empathy.
3. Reframe the mistake as information, not judgment.
From that quiet place, it becomes easier to see what really happened. Instead of seeing a missed deadline as evidence of failure, I began to treat it as information. Was I overextended? Did some adjustments need to be made? When mistakes are viewed this way, they become cues for learning—not evidence of individual flaws.
4. Create a pause before reacting.
When emotions run high, give yourself a moment. Take a deep breath and step back. Pausing Blocks reflexes that rush into self-criticism and disrupts the spiral of self-judgment. For me, stepping away—even briefly—allows me to respond more thoughtfully and kindly.
5. Practice small acts of self-care.
by thinking self care Helped me realize how necessary it is as a support rather than an inspiration. Instead of beating myself up after a misstep, I started asking what would actually help me reset—perhaps a short walk, quiet time journaling, or spending time with someone I felt completely comfortable with. These small acts reinforced a new message: mistakes don’t need punishment; They call for care.
6. Celebrate your wins, big and small.
When we’re used to self-criticism, it’s easy to overlook what’s working. But even small victories deserve recognition. Over time, celebrating wins helps balance out the critical voice in your head. That typo I mentioned earlier was rare. Acknowledging the many flawless printed pieces that came before helped put that mistake in perspective.
7. Replace the critical script with a kind script.
The inner critic often repeats the same lines, word for word. Over time, I learned to interrupt those scripts and give myself a different message—one based on reality and kindness. instead of “You always mess things up,” I used to say, “You’re human, you learn and you can adapt.” Every time I chose a kind response, the old script lost its power.
It brings it full circle
Sitting next to my friend that night, I could see how easily compassion flowed from me to her—and how foreign it still felt to turn that same care inward. But learning to behave differently does not require perfection or complete transformation. It started with noticing, pausing, and choosing a kind response, one small moment at a time.
The error still occurs. But now, instead of meeting those moments with harsh judgment, I meet them with curiosity and care. And in doing so, I discovered that the compassion we offer others is always available to us—we just need to practice landing it.
about Lynn Crocker
Lynne Crocker is passionate about helping people change their inner dialogue and take charge of their thoughts to create more purposeful, joyful and fulfilling lives – one thought at a time. If you want help moving this mindset forward or guidance on developing a steady, more empowering internal dialogue, she invites you to a free discovery call to see if mindset coaching is right for you. Learn more at lynncrockercoaching.com.
