Repurposing Your Inner Critic
I recently threw a retirement party for my inner critic.
Sound weird? It kind of was. But I think it will work out for the best.
Perhaps you’re ready to retire your inner critic, too. If so, keep reading.
What You Can’t Destroy Will Just Annoy You
For over four decades, my inner critic has been busy telling me what I’m terrible at, why I really didn’t succeed at something, why some outfits aren’t particularly flattering, how I’m not as smart as I think I am. At times she can be pretty brutal.
This past month I decided to destroy my inner critic, leave her behind forever. But while doing a visual meditation on ways to destroy her, she popped up in my mind and told me she wasn’t going anywhere—and that I could probably use more focus in my meditation. The harder I tried to force her out of my brain, the louder she got. We were at an impasse, and I feared my inner critic might thwart any further attempts at her destruction. I needed a different plan.
Meet Madge
One day in a session with my coach, I was complaining about my inner critic; I decided to call her Madge. When I raised the idea of destroying her, my coach asked, “How might you reframe what she means to you? You most likely can’t destroy her. The more we focus on what we don’t want or what we’re trying to get rid of, the more that thing shows up in our psyches and the world around us. She’ll find her way back unless you have a new way of thinking about her. So what else is possible?”
My coach and I then did a retrospective on where Madge came from, investigating her motives throughout my life. We explored what she was really trying to do. The tools she had were crude, unsophisticated. She developed those tools at an early age—taking cues from those around me/us. Madge was socialized to be harsh, less loving, more direct because that’s how adults in my life engaged with me.
As silly as it seemed—and as unhelpful as it was at times—in Madge’s harshness, she thought she was protecting me in some way. Madge didn’t want me to be too naive or have a false sense of myself. Rather than waiting for someone else to say a terrible thing first, Madge would throw the first block by saying something harsh to prevent me from suffering at the hands of others.
But as I grew up and continued to develop a healthier view of myself and the world, Madge was still that young critic who was stuck in her ways. We became imbalanced and have been in a dysfunctional relationship for a long time. I didn’t like nor need what Madge had to say anymore. She was losing her purpose. Neither of us had the tools yet to deal with that.
So when I learned I most likely couldn’t destroy Madge, I came up with an alternative: a retirement—and repurposing—party.
Madge’s Retirement Party
Let’s be clear: I didn’t buy balloons or order a cake or anything, though that would have been kind of awesome, or maybe a little too strange. But I did set aside time to reflect, write a tribute to Madge, and schedule a day to honor her.
Over the course of a week, I spent a couple of my morning meditations writing about the impact Madge had on my life: what I believed she was trying to do for me. One day I read my speech to Madge. I honored her and thanked her for her years of service.
I then sent Madge on a two-week vacation; offered her a new position when she returned; reflected on who I want to be in her absence and who we’ll be together when she’s in her new role.
Since I knew Madge would be contemplating what’s next for her, I decided to give her a new role, one that perhaps will be more helpful for both of us. Her new title is Guardian. She’ll still be in her protector role, but in a healthier way. She’ll help me reflect on moments when something didn’t go well and what I might learn from it. She’ll keep me humble at times when my ego gets in the way. She’ll be a guide rather than a nuisance, a source of compassionate wisdom rather than a nagging presence. It’s new territory for the both of us, and I’m hopeful.
Repurposing What No Longer Serves Us
It seems counterintuitive to celebrate the parts of ourselves we most despise. But all parts of us—the annoying voices, unpleasant emotions, inescapable intuitions—are trying to tell us something. There are healthier ways to work with those voices.
The first step is to stop judging those voices when they pop into our brains. Then we need to accept those voices and the role they play(ed) for us. When we stop judging and start accepting, we can start listening and investigate what’s really happening. Ultimately, we can grow, change, and imagine new possibilities when we repurpose what no longer serves us.
If you’re ready for some repurposing, consider the following questions:
What is a nagging voice you currently hear, one that you’re ready to retire?
When did that voice begin?
In what moments does that voice show up?
What purpose did/does it serve?
What tools does it use? Its favorite phrases? Where did that voice first learn those messages?
How has that voice been helpful or hurtful?
What would it look like to honor that voice?
What might be a healthier and more useful purpose for that voice going forward?
What else would you add?
Madge is coming back from vacation soon, and then we’ll begin our next phase. I’m sure she’ll fall into her old patterns; I’m sure I’ll default to mine. But I know with time and intention, I will find a healthier way of living with this newly repurposed part of myself.
May the same be true for you.
