Tackling the Inner Critic

One of my favourite quotes is by Theodore Roosevelt, and it goes like this:

"It's not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or when the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worth cause; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who at the worst if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat."

I'd found it again the other day on a scrap of paper, kept because I wanted to share it with someone who has been having a hard time with external critics.  I've now realised exactly why I love it, and it's because it absolutely nails the challenge I've been having with myself.  The challenge of how to deal with my inner critic, a nagging, judgmental succubus that's been with me for as long as I can remember. I visualise this creature as a kind of cross between a loquacious and particularly pernickety High Court judge and one of J K Rowling's Dementors from Harry Potter, dissecting every argument I put forward about how well I've done something, reducing my self-confidence to shreds, and simultaneously sucking the life out of me. A highly sophisticated adult bully.  It doesn't create a pretty picture, does it.

As I said in a post a few days ago, I have absolutely no idea where this comes from.  I have no recollection whatsoever of anyone ever putting any pressure on me, either as a child or as an adult, or criticising me for how I did my schoolwork or paid work. Perhaps - and this is the scary bit - that's the problem. Part of me thinks that there should be criticism there so I've invented my inner critic to play the role for me.  And boy, has it succeeded.  Three weeks ago today, I wasn't a pretty picture either. 

I'm great at picking up when others are being unfairly criticised and judged, and am apt to fly in like some kind of avenging angel with a keyboard when I see it happening. I find an astonishing articulacy when I spot injustice. I'm often the only one in a group which is boiling up to witch-hunt level, defending the one who's being torn to shreds and truly not caring a jot what anyone else thinks of me.

And yet - and this only came to me in one of those lightbulb moments this morning - that is exactly what I've been allowing my inner critic to do to me.  Unfair criticism, judgment based on past mistakes, exaggeration of any little flaw and an assumption that I must have done something wrong. And whilst I've been an avenging angel for others, I haven't done it for myself.

I've found an inner warrior woman who is out fighting other people's battles for them and I love her.  I love her passion, her articulacy, her ability to spot bullshit and deconstruct it, her inner fire and resolve, her refusal to back down, her bravery under fire, her thick skin and her confidence. When she emerges, feel blessed if she's on your side and watch out if she's not. I think of her much like the goddess Pallas Athena, described on Wikipedia as "the goddess of wisdom, courage, inspiration, civilization, law and justice, just warfare, mathematics, strength, strategy, the arts, crafts, and skill ... she is also the shrewd companion of heroes and the goddess of heroic endeavour".  She sounds like my sort of goddess, to be honest. The sort pretty much everyone, including I'd imagine, the odd hero or two, would love on their side. I want her on mine. 

Which brings me back neatly to the Roosevelt quote.  It isn't the [inner] critic that matters, it's the one who strives valiantly and dares greatly and spends the self in a worthy cause.  The people I fight for are worthy causes, and so am I.  I won't stop stepping in when I spot injustice - it's in my nature - but I also need to harness this wonderful energy to fight for myself.

And that fight starts - now - with the inner critic.  He'd better watch out.