Success on Your Terms — July Blog

You know the voice I mean.

The one that shows up right when you’re about to put yourself out there — who do you think you are? You’re not ready. Not good enough. Not qualified enough. It compares. It dismisses. It second-guesses everything you’re about to do.

And here’s the thing nobody tells you: it doesn’t get quieter as you grow. It gets louder. Because it’s most active right at the edges of your own growth — right when you’re about to stretch past what feels safe and familiar.

It’s Not the Enemy You Think It Is

Here’s a re-frame that changed everything for me and for the women I work with: that voice didn’t show up to sabotage you. It showed up to protect you.

At some point, staying small, staying quiet, staying certain-before-you-try — that kept you safe. Maybe it helped you belong. Maybe it helped you avoid rejection or shame at a time when you couldn’t handle either. It was doing its job.

The problem is, it’s still running the same old script — even though you don’t need that protection anymore. Its tone is harsh, but its motive has always been safety.

I know this one intimately. For a long time, publishing a blog looked the same way every single time. I’d write it, then sit on it. I’d read it back five, six, seven times, finding new reasons it wasn’t quite right. Who am I to share this? What if someone reads this and thinks I don’t actually know what I’m talking about?
I’d find something else to do. Answer an email. Reorganise a folder. Anything that wasn’t hitting publish. And then, usually hours later than I’d planned, I’d finally do it — heart racing, stomach tight, that particular kind of fear that has nothing to do with logic and everything to do with being seen.

That was my inner critic, doing exactly what she was built to do: keep me small, keep me safe, keep me from the risk of being judged. She wasn’t wrong that publishing came with risk. She was wrong about what that risk meant.

How It Shows Up

Procrastination. Over-editing everything before it’s “ready.” Constant second-guessing, even after you’ve decided. These aren’t character flaws. They’re strategies — ways of avoiding a feeling the critic is trying to protect you from.

You Don’t Have to Banish Her — You Have to Get to Know Her

This isn’t about silencing your inner critic or pretending she doesn’t exist. It’s about building an actual relationship with her.

Start by noticing her presence without judgment. Then get curious: what is she afraid would happen if she stopped doing her job? Underneath most inner critics is a fear of shame, abandonment, rejection, or overwhelm. Once you name that fear — really see it — the critic can start to soften. She might not disappear. But she no longer needs to run the show.

Here’s how I invite my clients to work with theirs:

Name her. Give her a name and a character. She becomes easier to notice — and easier to talk back to — the moment she’s not just “you.”

Thank her. Her whole role has been to keep you safe. That deserves acknowledgment, not war.

Acknowledge where she came from. She was shaped by experiences and beliefs — some of them false, some of them stories you’ve simply told yourself for so long they started to feel true.

Accept she’s coming along for the ride. She’s not going anywhere completely, and that’s okay.
Put her in the back seat. Not the driver’s seat, where she’ll happily steer you straight into playing small. In the back seat, where she can talk — but she doesn’t get to choose the direction.

Choosing Integrity Over Compliance

This might mean listening to your critic, understanding what she’s afraid of, and then — choosing differently anyway. Not out of defiance, but out of integrity. Moving toward what actually matters to you, rather than what keeps you comfortable.

We listen. We learn. And then we decide, for ourselves, what path we’re actually going to take.

Your inner critic may never fully disappear. She doesn’t have to. When you understand where she came from, what she’s afraid of, and what she actually has the power to do — you’re free to create alongside her instead of in spite of her. With more compassion. More clarity. And a lot more connection to the truth of who you’re becoming.

So — what does your inner critic sound like? What would you name her?
Jo x