The Inner Critic ~ Unmasking the Inner Voice

By Katrina Steel

We Rarely Question the Way We Speak to Ourselves

There is a voice inside us that speaks almost constantly. Most of us barely notice it, yet it quietly shapes our days. It fuels our moods, directs our choices, and weaves itself into the fabric of our self-worth.

For some, it’s obvious. It's a harsh running commentary of criticism, doubt, or perfectionism: You’re lazy. You’ll never be good enough. You’re stupid for even trying.

For others, it’s more subtle. It disguises itself as low energy, as an inability to get out of bed, as the quiet erosion of joy. It convinces us that the way we feel is “just who I am” or whispers the fear that no one else could possibly have a voice this cruel, that we must be broken, or worse, crazy.

But the truth is: this voice is not proof of your brokenness. It is proof of your humanity.

The inner critic is universal. Every single one of us has one. What differs is its volume, its tone, and the influence it holds over our lives.

Where the Inner Critic Comes From

In psychology, this process is called introjection. The unconscious internalisation of the voices around us during our formative years.

Children don’t just hear words. They absorb tone, body language, silences, sighs of disappointment, and the withholding of affection. They take these experiences and weave them into their sense of self.

You may have heard phrases like:

• “Why can’t you do it properly?”

• “Stop being so sensitive.”

• “That’s silly.”

• “You always overreact.”

• “Johnny does this so easily.”

Even when those exact words were not spoken, they were often implied in the atmosphere: the raised eyebrow, the frustrated exhale, the quiet withdrawal of love.

As children, we do not think, This is my parent’s stress or insecurity speaking. Instead, we assume, Something must be wrong with me.

And so those judgments, external at first, become internalised as identity. What began as someone else’s tone of disapproval slowly morphs into our own relentless inner critic.

Humanising Our Parents

It’s important to pause here, because this is not about blame.

Our parents were not villains. They were humans, often doing the very best they could with the tools, awareness, and capacity they had. Many of them were simply repeating what was modelled to them. Most carried their own unhealed wounds and inherited inner critics. They too were shaped by voices of inadequacy, fear, and conditional love.

So the words we absorbed were rarely about us. They were reflections of our parents’ own filters, their fears, their insecurities, their exhaustion, their hope that if we toughened up or tried harder, life might not hurt us the way it hurt them.

When we see this, we can begin to soften. Not to excuse, but to understand. And in that understanding, we open the door to compassion... for them, and for ourselves.

The Inner Critic as Survival

The inner critic did not form to destroy us. It formed to protect us.

In homes where love felt conditional, or where safety seemed tied to achievement, children learn to self-monitor. Better to shame yourself before others do. Better to strive endlessly for approval than risk rejection.

The critic became a survival strategy. It whispered: Do better. Be tougher. Don’t mess up. Maybe then you’ll be safe. Maybe then you’ll be loved.

And in childhood, it worked.

But what once shielded us now holds us hostage. The same voice that tried to keep us safe now keeps us small. It is now whispering doubt, shouting shame, convincing us that we must earn our right to exist, to rest, to be.

The Critic in My Own Life

I know this voice well.

For much of my life, my inner critic drove me to trade away my own needs for the pleasing of others. It hustled me into proving my worth, whispering that I had to earn my seat at the table. It told me that unless I was achieving, giving, and doing more, I wasn’t enough.

It kept me busy, but not fulfilled. It kept me productive, but not at peace. And for years, I mistook its harshness for truth.

Learning to notice the narrative was the first crack in the armour. I began to see the critic not as me, but as an anxious part of me that thought thunder could make flowers grow. Slowly, I began to experiment with something radical: introducing another voice — one of nurture, kindness, and acceptance.

This has not been a one-time shift. It is an ongoing practice. It is a constant noticing, naming, and tending to the inner world. But it works. Over time, the critic’s volume lowers, and the voice of peace grows louder.

How the Inner Critic Impacts Us

In my work as a psychotherapist, I see the impact of the inner critic every single day.

It shows up in my clients’ relationships with themselves, fuelling self-doubt, eroding confidence, keeping them stuck in cycles of shame.

It shows up in their emotional states amplifying stress, anxiety, and depressive symptoms until life feels heavy and joyless.

It shows up in their behaviours, pushing them into perfectionism, people-pleasing, overworking, or self-sabotage.

The critic does not simply live in our heads. It infiltrates our nervous system, our relationships, our health, and our capacity to love and be loved.

Reclaiming Your Voice

The good news is that the critic is not innate. It was learned, which means it can be unlearned.

Here is how the reclaiming begins:

1. Name It : Differentiate the critic from your identity. “That’s my parent’s voice.” “That’s fear trying to keep me safe.” This separation allows you to see it as part of you — but not the whole of you.

2. Notice the Narrative : Track when the critic speaks, what tone it takes, and how it feels in your body. Interrupt it with gentleness: “I don’t need to talk to myself like this anymore.”

3. Introduce a New Voice : Bring in compassion. Write letters to your younger self. Place your hand on your heart and say, “You are enough. You are loved. I’m here with you.” At first it may feel foreign, but with repetition, this voice grows stronger.

Loving the Critic into Wholeness

This work is not about waging war against the inner critic. That only deepens the conflict inside. The path forward is one of love.

The critic is a scared part of us. It is a child within who believed fear was the only way to stay safe. When we meet that voice with compassion, its grip begins to loosen. We don’t destroy it; we transform it.

Each time you notice the critic and choose gentleness instead, you water the soil of your own becoming. You begin to replace fear with nurture, shame with acceptance, striving with presence.

The Voice You Were Meant to Have

You were not born with shame. You were not born doubting your worth. You were born with a natural, unfiltered aliveness .... curious, present, and whole.

The critic is not who you are. It is who you learned to be. Which means you can learn another way.

To build an inner dialogue rooted in kindness is to reclaim yourself. It will not happen overnight. But over time, as you return again and again to the softer voice, the loving voice, the voice of truth.. and something remarkable happens.

The critic grows quieter. And your peace grows louder.

That is freedom. That is healing.

Final Reflection

If your inner critic has been running the show, what kind of life might you create when you choose a different voice, one rooted not in fear, but in love?