Dear Inner Critic: It’s Not Me, It’s Definitely You — A Mental Health Valentine

Ahh yes, February – the month of love – when everything looks like it’s been doused in Pepto, chocolate counts as a major food group, and the world (not so) subtly insists that we be better at love and relationships. Romantic love. Family love. Self-love. Preferably all at once, while emotionally regulated, well-rested, and wearing real pants. Meanwhile, I’m over here just trying to survive graduate school, keep everyone fed, and remember to moisturize my ashy skin.

And if I’m being honest? I am actually great at loving other people. Need encouragement? I got you. Grace? Endless supply. Forgiveness? Handed out like samples at Costco. I will go all in – especially for my family. I will pour into my kids, my husband, my people without hesitation and meet their needs before they even know they have them. In fact, I’d imagine that most of us are like this – very good at showing up, checking in, overextending ourselves, and apologizing when we didn’t do anything wrong.

But loving myself?

Who am I kidding.

My inner critic is, without question, my worst enemy. I’m compassionate toward others and ruthless with myself. I’ll reassure a friend (or client) that one hard moment doesn’t define them, then turn around and roast myself like it’s an Olympic sport. Gold medal skills, y’all. And if there were awards for replaying my less than stellar parenting moments at night, I’d be on the podium every. Dang. Time. You shouldn’t have snapped. You should’ve handled that better. Be better. My inner-critic loves this part. Like a late-night talk show – and somehow, I’m both the host and the punchline.

Valentine’s Day tends to focus on our relationships with other people, but there’s one relationship we don’t talk about nearly enough: the one we have with ourselves. It also happens to be the longest relationship we’ll ever be in — and, inconveniently, the one we can’t quit, mute, or ghost. You can ignore texts. You can avoid difficult conversations. You can even pretend your feelings don’t exist for a while. But you cannot ghost yourself. I’ve tried. We keep running into each other.

And as counselors, the irony is rich. We literally teach clients how to be kind to themselves. We normalize being human and making mistakes. We hand out coping skills like party favors. And then we go home and talk to ourselves in ways that would have us escorted out of the building if we spoke to our clients the same way. Surely, I’m not the only one, right? I’m realizing that I often love myself like I’m a problem to fix instead of a person to care for. My inner critic speaks to me in ways that I would never speak to someone I love – not a friend, not my family, heck, not even a stranger in the Target parking lot. Somewhere along the way, I learned that loving others meant holding myself to impossible standards. I expect myself to get it right all the time and never lose patience… which is a fascinating expectation, given that I am human and raising littles who are as committed to testing boundaries as if it’s their sole purpose.

Here's the thing, though: mental health research does not support this strategy, y’all. (Rude, I know.) Studies show that self-compassion is linked to better emotional regulation, resilience, and overall well-being (Neff & Germer, 2018). Chronic self-criticism, on the other hand, increases stress and burnout, particularly in helping professionals (Maslach & Leiter, 2021). Being hard on myself hasn’t made me better. It’s just made me tired and unnecessarily dramatic in my own head. Translation: I need to break-up with my inner critic – it’s clingy, exhausting, and constantly waking me up at 2 a.m. with passive-aggressive comments. Ugh.

Here's the reality check: I’d never expect perfection from my clients or the people I love. I offer patience, perspective, room to grow. Yet for myself? Grace is apparently a limited-time offer. But I’m stubbornly learning that self-love isn’t flashy. It’s quieter, slightly inconvenient, and often uncomfortable. It looks like catching myself mid-attack and saying, “Girl, let’s calm down.” It looks like remembering that one imperfect moment does not erase a day of showing up.

And since it’s February – the month of love – I keep thinking about how love is often described as patient, kind, not harsh, and not keeping a record of wrongs. We apply that easily and beautifully to our partners, our children, our clients (platonically speaking, of course) and even our pets. But now read that again with self-love goggles on. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

If that’s love, then some of us (myself included) may need to renegotiate how we treat ourselves. And here’s another bold truth: as counselors, we cannot sustainably offer what we refuse to practice. Newsflash: despite what our inner critic says, burnout is not a badge of honor; it’s a warning light. Self-love isn’t selfish. It’s ethical. It’s maintenance. If we believe our clients deserve compassion and grace, then we don’t get to exclude ourselves from that list.

So, this February, while you’re searching for that perfect card or gift for your significant other to show them a little extra love, why not include yourself in that search? Ditch your inner critic like the emotionally exhausting ex who keeps “just checking in” and adds absolutely nothing to your life. I don’t know about you, but I want to choose kindness. Choose grace. Choose compassion for myself. And if my inner critic has a problem with that… well, it’s not me. It’s definitely you.

References

Maslach, C., & Leiter, M. P. (2016). Understanding the burnout experience: Recent research and its implications for psychiatry. World Psychiatry, 15(2), 103–111. https://doi.org/10.1002/wps.20311 (SCIRP)

Neff, K. D., & Germer, C. K. (2018). The mindful self-compassion workbook: A proven way to accept yourself, build inner strength, and thrive. Guilford Press. (ACBS)