top of page
Search

How to Thank Your Inner Critic and Take Back the Wheel

  • Writer: Suzanne Milligan
    Suzanne Milligan
  • Mar 31
  • 4 min read

This is the final post in a three-part series on befriending your inner critic. Parts One and Two are worth reading first if you haven't already. You can head to Renewal Reflections here.


This is where we put it all together.


Over the past two weeks, two things have been practised.

Noticing the inner critic when it arrives, without being swept away by it.

And getting curious about what it is actually trying to protect, rather than arguing with it or simply believing it.


Both of those steps matter enormously. But on their own, they leave something unfinished.


Because noticing and understanding are not quite the same as choosing. We can be aware of a splinter in our hand, but until we choose to take action and pull it out, nothing will change about the annoying pain it creates.


This final step is about choosing an action. And that action is turning towards rather than away. Gently, firmly, and with real warmth for the part of you that has been working so hard to keep things safe.


This is where the inner critic stops driving. And where something steadier takes the wheel.


Why Thanking It Matters

This might be the part that sounds strangest. Thanking the inner critic.

It can feel counterintuitive, especially when the voice has been harsh, relentless, or genuinely unkind for years. Why would it deserve thanks?


Because it was doing the only job it knew how to do.


It learned that job a long time ago, probably when there was very little choice about how to respond to the world. It stepped in to protect from pain, from rejection, from getting things wrong in ways that felt costly. It has been doing that job faithfully ever since, even when the protection it once offered has long since become a limitation.

The critic doesn't need to be defeated. It needs to be reassured.

Thanking it is not about pretending any of that was fine. It's about acknowledging the intention underneath. And in doing so, making it possible to move forward without a fight.


Step Three: Thank and Redirect

When the inner critic arrives, after pausing to notice it and getting curious about what it's worried about, this is what comes next.


Say to it, quietly and genuinely:

"Thank you for trying to keep me safe. I've got this."


That's it. Simple, direct, and warm.

If it comes back, as it often will at first, a gentle boundary is enough:

"I hear you. And you can trust me to keep us safe now."


Then bring attention back to the body. What is needed now? It could be some movement, a stretch, or putting your arms around yourself. Keep reassuring this part that you are here, and it doesn't have to work so hard anymore. It's not alone anymore.


This sends a clear signal to the whole system that something has settled. That there is a presence here that is steady, capable, and in charge.


Take this slowly, making time for whatever emerges. It is a practice. And with practice, it becomes more familiar and more comfortable.


What Actually Changes

When this three-step approach is practised with consistency, something begins to shift that is hard to fully describe until it has been felt.


Everyday decisions feel calmer. The constant second-guessing starts to ease. There is a quieter quality to how each day feels from the inside.


Others often notice it before the person themselves does. A different ease. A steadier confidence. Something that wasn't quite there before.

The inner critic's voice doesn't disappear. But it stops being the loudest one in the room.

What rises instead is something older and quieter. A wiser, steadier self. And from that place, choices feel different. More grounded. More genuinely yours.


This Is a Beginning, Not an Endpoint

These three steps are a real and practised way of beginning to shift a relationship that, for many women, has been running in the background for decades.


But they are a beginning, not an endpoint.


The inner critic learned its role from somewhere. From early experiences, from messages absorbed long before there were words to question them, from family patterns that were never chosen but were absorbed all the same. Shifting that relationship in a lasting way takes more than three blog posts.


It takes practice in real moments, when the old patterns pull hard and the critic is loudest.


It takes support from someone who can help distinguish between the critic's voice and the wiser voice underneath. And it takes a kind of patience with yourself that the critic, ironically, has never been very good at modelling.


That is the deeper work. And it is some of the most meaningful work there is.


If This Series Has Stayed With You

Reading is one thing. Sitting with the actual moment when the critic is loudest is quite another. That gap is exactly what deeper work addresses.


I am planning something for late May, a live online workshop that takes all of this further and gives time and space to actually practise, not just read about it. Details are coming soon.


If that sounds like something worth knowing about, stay tuned. I will be sharing more shortly.


And if something has already come up as you read through this series, and it feels like more than a self-guided resource can hold, my door is open. Reaching out costs nothing and there is no obligation at all.

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page