“I won’t beat the bullies and critics of my early life by joining them and agreeing.” ~ Pete Walker
For most of my life, there was a voice in my head narrating everything I did, and it was kind of a hole.
You know one. That voice jumps in before you finish thinking:
“Don’t say that, you sound stupid.”
“Why do everyone care about your thoughts?”
“You’re too many. You’re not enough. You’re confused.”
No matter what I did, the critics had notes. Something brutal. And the worst part? I believed in every word. I didn’t know he was a critic. I thought there was a “realistic self-awareness.” I told them how flawed they were, just like everyone else was playing little tapes in their heads over and over. After all, the voice was trauma speaking and seemed to never stop.
My inner critic was not born, but built
CPTSD doesn’t just ruin your safety. It hijacks your internal dialogue. When your early life feels unsafe or unpredictable, criticism becomes your compass. You learn to scan for danger and predict what can cause rejection and anger. You begin to blame yourself for things that were not your fault just to maintain peace.
Over time, you don’t need anyone else to dismantle you. You’re covering it yourself. Critics live inside. Relentless. It’s like a hyper-alert security guard who’s been working overtime for decades. Someone who has the bones to choose.
My inner critics were not about to be cruel. It was trying to protect me. It’s twisted but true. I believed that if that was the first thing that shamed me, I would beat everyone else. If I am small, perfect, or invisible, I will not be a target. If I have enough control over myself, perhaps the confusion will leave me alone.
That voice has become familiar. And the familiarity can make it feel like home, even toxic.
Turning Point: When you realize your voice is lying
The healing began the day I noticed a strange cutting. The people I cared about didn’t speak to me like my inner critics. They didn’t get tired of me when I made a mistake. They didn’t roll their eyes when I showed up with all the nasty feelings. They didn’t act like I had any problems solving or disappointment to manage. In fact, they were… quite warm. Even if I wasn’t “on.”
This realization felt like I was looking in the mirror of the Funhouse and suddenly seeing my true regret. Would I really have heard if they hadn’t seen me through the lens of judgment and shame? That voice in my head, or the people who took care of me?
That was the moment when I began to doubt the authority of my inner critics. Because of that voice? That was not true. It was traumatizing. The protective but outdated part of me that is no longer necessary to run the show.
How I actually started healing (the real first step)
The first real step was not dramatic. I noticed a mismatch. My head screamed, “You’re confused,” but everyone around me treated me like a person. Once I realized it had been disconnected, things went from “This is exactly where I am” to “Oh, maybe this is something I can change.”
So my early movements were small and boring, but they were important.
I knew the trauma job and booked a therapist long enough to stop my band-aid corrections. I actually learned one therapy, the internal family system that landed for me. It helped me to stop fighting critics and start talking to them. I started writing to give that voice a vomiting page rather than modifying myself.
I also leaned over to a few safe people, friends and therapists who called out to me when critics lied, reminding me that I wasn’t actually someone I believed in.
But the difficult task lies beneath the critics. The voice was just a symptom. Sitting beneath it was sadness, anger, and the fear I carried since I was a child. For the first time in therapy I was learning to sit with the younger part of me that I didn’t feel safe, not only trying to betray my critics. That’s when healing really starts to change. Not by silence the critics, but by ultimately listening to the trauma below it.
I “didn’t silence” my inner critic, but I started asking it
One day, the voice was still loud and uncomfortable. The healing never vanished. It’s still there and pops up like an annoying pop-up ad you can’t close completely.
For years, critics focused on my appearance. I was very embarrassed and self-loathing so I didn’t need anyone else to dismantle me, I was already working for them. Trauma and CPTSD confirmed that. Even if no one spoke, critics filled the silence with insults.
But I learned to give it a pause button. Instead of automatically following, my curiosity began to grow stronger.
One morning I caught my reflection, and the critic immediately sneered: “You look disgusting.” Usually I believe it and believe it is a spiral. But then I paused and asked: Whose voice is this really? I felt like my child’s abuser. What’s trying to protect me? Perhaps fear and shame rooted in that abuse. Is that true or is it just familiar? Familiar. That shift didn’t immediately dispel any shame, but it gave me a crack in sunlight. Rather than hating myself all day long, I was able to shrug and think. Yes, it’s a critic and it’s not true. That little pause was progress
Sometimes I imagine my inner critic as a gross, overworked security guard who was stuck in the past. He’s gross and exhausted and works overtime to keep me “safe”, but he’s not even in contact with what he’s currently. I don’t hate him. I just won’t give him the microphone anymore. Recently I’ve been putting him behind the glass and wearing a phorically noise-canceling headphone. He can anger everything he wants, but I’ve been on the line with Otis Redding a whole lot.
What actually helped me get pushed back?
Therapy: Internal Family Systems (IFS) therapy helped me to see critics as part of me, not as whole. It gave me the tools to talk about that part rather than fighting it.
Written: Putting critics’ voices on paper was a game changer. Seeing these harsh words in black and white helped me realize how cruel they truly are.
Safe People: Openly speaking with trusted friends and therapists helped me to break down the illusion of love and unbrokenness.
New Script: Instead of empty assertions, I practiced a gentle reality check: “It’s okay for my part to feel that way. That doesn’t mean it’s true.”
Compassion: Learn to treat yourself like a friend rather than an enemy – fierce, incomplete but valuable.
Why is this important: the cost of believing critics
Believing that your inner voice is not uncomfortable, it is dangerous. It shapes how you will appear in the world. It keeps you stuck with self-doubt. Reduce when you want to grow. It persuades you to remain silent when you need to hear your voice.
For years I was hiding behind the fog of that critic. I avoided risk, pushed my emotions down, avoided intimacy. That voice stole the years of my life. I lost people I cared about because I couldn’t believe I was enough or deserved of love, and it does a lot to you.
Healing isn’t about erasing critics, it’s about learning when to ask, when to ask questions, when to change channels.
I am grateful that the treatment and the work I put into healing made me able to regain some of that space for myself. It’s not easy, and there are many starts and stops, but it’s well worth it. I’m here today.
If you live with that voice now
If your inner critic is persuasive and sounds like you have a PhD in your failure, I’ll get it. I lived there. But here is the truth:
You are not the sum of your worst thoughts. You are not the voice calling you a burden. Just because you were told it doesn’t make you worthless.
That critic may be roaring, but it’s not honest. It’s scary. And scary things don’t have the final say.
You will start to question it. You can rewrite the script. Even if your voice sways, you can still pick up space. Even if it whispers, “Who do you think you are?”
The answer is: Someone will heal. Someone is doing it. It’s no longer true that someone finally learned that voice.
About Jack Brody
Jack is the writer’s dad and is restoring an oversinker who lives in New York. He writes your value from cptsd, healing, and your wounds at nowthatjack.com. He no longer believes everything his inner critics say, but they are still in couples’ counseling.
