How To Stop Being So Hard on Yourself

(And no, it won’t make you lazy or suddenly crave kale.)

You know that voice.
The one that chimes in—just after you’ve eaten the thing you weren’t “meant” to eat or said the thing you didn’t “want” to say or watched four episodes when you told yourself one?

That quiet little hum of disapproval in your head:
“Really? Again?”
“You know better than this.”
“Other people get it together. Why can’t you?”

That voice. It’s familiar. Almost reassuring in its consistency.
And if you're anything like the hundreds of women I speak to each year, you’ve probably come to see it as some kind of tough-but-necessary inner coach. Like a bootcamp instructor living in your brain, with a clipboard and a judgy eyebrow.

Here’s the curious part:
We believe that voice helps us. That it keeps us in line.
That if we didn’t listen to it—or worse, tried to quiet it—we’d fall apart entirely.

But… has that ever actually happened?

Really. Has being hard on yourself ever led to the kind of change that lasted?

Or has it mostly just led to exhaustion, guilt and that quiet sense that you’re always coming up short?

Where it comes from (and why it’s so convincing)

There’s nothing wrong with you for having that voice.
It’s not a sign that you’re doing the wrong thing or that deep down you’re inherently flawed.

It’s simply a habit. A well-practised mental reflex.

For many of us, criticism became the language of self-improvement early on.
Be better. Try harder. Don’t mess it up.

And in a world that rewards perfection and productivity, it’s easy to assume that being gentle must be the opposite—complacent, weak, a slippery slope to stretchy pants and spoonfuls of Nutella straight from the jar until it’s all gone.

So we double down on discipline. On shame. On pushing ourselves harder.
But here’s the thing: shame doesn’t create lasting change. It just creates better hiding places.

So what do we do instead?

You don’t need a mantra. Or a new journal. Or a laminated affirmation stuck to your bathroom mirror. (Though, if you love that stuff—you do you.)

You just need to notice.

That’s it.

Noticing is powerful. Quietly revolutionary, even.

Step 1: Notice the moment it starts.

You’re halfway through mentally reviewing everything you said at dinner… and suddenly there it is - That voice, narrating your apparent failure.

You don’t need to argue with it.
You don’t need to “correct” it.

Just spot it. “Oh, there’s that again.”

Like a cloud passing overhead.

Step 2: Gently zoom out.

Is this really a crisis… or just a hiccup?
A moment where you did something human?

Did you really “ruin the day” or did you just eat a sandwich at 4pm because lunch was light and your body asked for more?

Zooming out isn’t pretending things are fine. It’s giving context to the story.
It’s reminding yourself that one moment doesn’t define a whole life.

Step 3: Let new responses try themselves on.

This is where it gets interesting.

Instead of defaulting to “Ugh, what’s wrong with me?”… you might quietly wonder:

“What’s underneath this urge to criticise myself?”

Often, what we really need isn’t motivation—it’s mercy.
A little tenderness. A few deep breaths. Maybe a nap.

Not because we’re fragile, but because change—real change—happens more easily in moments of kindness and care.

But isn’t this just… letting yourself off the hook?

Not at all.

Being kind to yourself doesn’t mean you stop caring. It doesn’t mean being complacent.
It just means you stop harming.

It means that, instead of driving yourself with guilt, you start guiding yourself with curiosity.

That matters. Because the way we talk to ourselves shapes how we show up in the world.

And self-compassion isn’t just a fluffy idea—it’s deeply practical.
When you feel safe inside your own mind, it’s easier to try new things. To take risks. To learn. Then try again.

One small shift can change everything.

You don’t have to rewrite your whole inner script overnight.

But the next time that familiar voice pipes up, try something small:

“I see you, habit. But I’m not sure I need you today.”

It doesn’t need to be dramatic.

In fact, the most transformative shifts rarely are.

They feel more like a softening. A loosening. A little space opening up where there used to be tension.

You don’t need fixing.

You’re not a problem to be solved.
You’re a person—doing her best, learning new things, occasionally eating cereal for dinner.

Self-kindness isn’t the reward for getting it right.

It’s the foundation that helps you keep going, even when things don’t go to plan.

So if you catch yourself in the familiar loop today, pause.
Not to shame yourself for shaming yourself (we’ve all done that too)—but just to see the loop for what it is:

A habit.
Not the truth.

And from that quiet noticing, something new can begin.

Want help getting off the hamster wheel of shame and actually changing your habits without losing your mind (or your snacks)? Let’s chat. I promise you, it can be easier than this.