If you're a parent who is too hard on yourself, this post is for you. It might also be for you if you often feel anxious or overwhelmed and you're not sure why.

The habit of being too hard on yourself is never helpful. Not for you, not for your family, and not for the work you want to do in the world.

But knowing that in a theoretical way and living it in a real way are two different animals.

We can be stuck in the trap of perfectionism and self-criticism (or its twin sibling, criticism of others who are close to you) without even knowing it. And it's a really, really hard trap to get out of.

I don't know about you, but for me when I'm in that trap I feel like I'm failing my kids and failing in my efforts to contribute effectively to the world I want for them to grow up in -- which are possibly two of the most painful ways there are to feel like a failure.

Do you often have a sense that "something is wrong"?

We all have an internal "critic," a voice pointing out when something is wrong. You might recognize the voice of your inner critic when you hear it, or you might just have a pervasive feeling or belief that something is wrong with:

1. what you're doing (or what you have done in the past),
2. the way you're doing it, or even,
3. with you.

To be very clear: number (3) on that list is never true (more on that below). 

Sometimes, (1) and/or (2) is true to some degree. When that's the case, it's your inner critic's job to spot it and point it out to you.

That's the proper, healthy role of your inner critic - to spot when you're off so you can adjust course appropriately. 

But then, the critic's job is done. It's supposed to get back in its box now, or take a nap, leaving you in charge of figuring out how to put things right.

Only, painfully often, it doesn't.

What happens when your inner critic gets out of hand?

It's easy for the inner critic to get WAY out of hand.

Instead of discretely tapping you on the shoulder, pointing out a mistake and then retiring full of trust that you can now be relied on to put things right, it stays on red alert. You can't make a move without it critiquing and second-guessing. 

Or your critic might be operating so invisibly that it feels impossible to separate it out and be able to recognize the effect it's having on you.You just feel chronically anxious, overwhelmed, unable to do anything right, and possibly impatient and intolerant of others' short comings, and you may not know why.

Sometimes, the critic is just plain WRONG

Sometimes the critic isn't just out of hand. It's plain wrong. That's when you have the feeling or belief that something is wrong with you -- (3) on my list above. This is simply. Never. True. 

There is nothing fundamentally wrong with you. You were not born "a bad person" in any way, shape, or form.

As a parent, you may at times have been too dis-regulated, exhausted, anxious, overwhelmed, etc, to think clearly or act effectively, but there is nothing wrong with you. Even when you have acted in ways that you know have caused damage and regrets, those were mistakes, not fundamental flaws in who you are.

Mistakes and mis-steps are like clouds - behind them, the sun is still shining

Inside you there is an undamaged presence, shining like the sun.

Just because clouds are scudding across in front of it, or even covering the whole sky, and maybe even for days or weeks on end -- the sun is still there.

The sun never goes away and it does not need to heal -- because whatever is generating the clouds has never touched the sun.

And the even better news is that the sun is shining inside your child/ren, too. Contrary to the opinions of your inner critic, you and your children have astonishing power to clear away the clouds that are temporarily covering the sun.

A one-minute practice for when your inner critic takes over

Can you spare a minute? Just for YOU?

Put your hand/s on your heart, or wherever feels right. Watch your breath. For three times in and out, follow where your breath goes inside of you, and let your out-breath be longer than your in-breath.

Now, with your breath, silently repeat your own versions of these suggestions (which are inspired by the teachings of Buddhist Monk Thich Nhat Hanh):

"Breathing in, I acknowledge my [insert whatever thoughts, feelings, or fears are troubling you]"

"Breathing out, I release them"

Repeat your own version of those statements silently with your in and out-breaths at least three times -- more if you want to.

Good enough...

Remind yourself:

"I only have to be a good enough parent. Trying to be perfect stresses me out, tightens and shortens my breath, and makes things worse. It makes the clouds cover the sun."

... and just in time

Remind yourself:

"I only have to be just in time. Just in time is right on time." 

When I look back at my life, I see that I only ever learned what I needed to know, just in time. I only ever came upon the tool or understanding or insight I needed, just in time. Never before.

I might spend significant chunks of time for weeks, months, even years, stressing about what I didn't know, about how I wasn't good enough.(Yes, still guilty.)

Then I would learn something, experience some insight, gain a broader perspective -- and see that I hadn't needed that until right when it came.

(Yes, you can have a part of you that understands something, in theory well enough to not be troubled by it any more, and other parts of you that still struggle with it and still feel like you'll never be free of it. We truly contain multitudes.)

"I trust myself as a parent"

Repeat after me:

"Breathing in, I feel my love for my child/ren." Let your love for your children flood your insides.

"Breathing out, I trust myself as their parent." Let the love that floods your body connect you to the wisdom of your heart, and trust that.

These are just clouds. Behind them the sun still shines.

As an adult, you know you can make mistakes. And Life has shown you that the consequences of some mistakes can be terrible. For many adults, fear of making a mistake is crippling.

It shows up in every aspect of your life. Without even knowing you're doing it, you just live a half life -- with the handbrake on all the time. This is the "inner critic" at work. 

What you were supposed to learn as a child 

As a small child, you were supposed to have the experience of feeling that you could do no wrong. That everyone you met wanted to hug or play with you, and that you could rely on your parents, uncles, aunties, and grandparents to protect and cherish you.

As you grew up, of course you discovered you could make mistakes. But ideally you also found that when you did, the people who loved you would step in and help you make it right.

You learned you could make amends for your mistakes, and that in the process you would grow stronger, wiser, more capable.

If you had that experience, you had a WAY better chance of growing up to be an adult who is not afraid of mistakes.

If you didn't, now that you're an adult it's up to you to find the child inside you, and find a way to give him or her what you missed out on.

Understanding your inner critic 

In recent years I've learned that my "inner critic" which looms so large in my life and often feels like it has me completely in its control, developed during my early childhood. Its purpose is to prevent me from taking risks that might get me into trouble.

It's the equivalent of a 5 year old suppressing her 4 year old sibling at any cost, to avoid drawing the attention of a punitive authority figure.  

Now, I understand that when I feel stuck and frustrated, when I find myself avoiding and procrastinating, when I have a vague sense that

"I've done something wrong and I'm gonna be in big trouble" 

... that's my  5 year old gatekeeper anxiously scanning the horizon for trouble. 

The antidote: compassionate self-leadership

So now when I feel those things, I say to my child-self,

"Honey, it's okay. There's a grown up here now to take care of everything. No one is mad at you, and there's no way you can fail at Life." 

In my experience, compassionate self-leadership is the only real antidote to that crippling fear, that tyrannical inner critic's voice that otherwise keeps you small and limited, fearful and hurting.