How Self-Criticism Hindered My Journey to Consistency
A reflection of my 72 days of journaling.
As I reflect on my habit of journaling for the past 72 days, I’m beginning to realize just how detrimental self-criticism can be.
I first started keeping a journal in the year of yore, 2012. I was so excited to have a space to pour out my innermost thoughts and experiences. At that time, I used a digital journaling app called Day One, to which I was drawn because of its beautiful user interface. I wrote a couple of entries in it, but it wasn’t long before my inner critic reared its ugly head. I’d write a few sentences, read them back, and instantly feel ashamed at how mundane or uninspired they sounded. Before I knew it, I was deleting nearly everything I wrote, leaving only the bare minimum details of what I did that day, written in such a way that it felt inauthentic. My entries became shorter and shorter as I debilitatingly convinced myself I had nothing worthwhile to say. On some days, I couldn’t even begin to write.
This pattern went on for years. No matter how hard I tried, it seemed I could never break past the barrier of self-doubt to write openly and honestly in my journal. I’d censor my words, edit my feelings, reshape my experiences – all to avoid facing the judgment of my harshest critic: myself. The end result was a journal filled with stale, superficial entries that captured none of the richness or authenticity I longed for. Eventually, in a moment of frustration, I deleted all my past journal entries, as if erasing the evidence of my failure. I stopped journaling altogether for a long time after that.
It wasn’t until recently that I tried journaling again, as part of my attempt at building a morning routine. I was inspired by a website called 750Words.com, which encourages me to write 750 words about anything, every day. Something changed this time. Rather than judging each word, I allowed myself to be honest with myself and write freely, without reservation. I made a point not to reread or edit my entries. And slowly but surely, the dam began to break. Real thoughts and feelings emerged that I would’ve had bottled up. The entries felt raw and imperfect most of the time, but profoundly honest in a way my writing had never been before. Once I’ve finished writing for the day, I simply copy and paste what I’ve written there as a new daily entry on Day One.
With this experience, I’m learning just how damaging self-criticism can be when trying to build a healthy habit like journaling. Each time my inner critic silenced my voice, it reinforced the belief that I had nothing worthwhile to say. This crippled me with self-doubt and fear, preventing me from genuinely engaging in journaling. I robbed myself of the chance to process my experiences, develop self-awareness, and create a record of my inner life. The habit simply could not take root.
Now I see self-criticism for what it is: a toxic, destructive force that hinders growth. Of course, there’s always time for thoughtful editing and refinement, as they can help shape and sharpen ideas and perspectives. But unchecked criticism quickly becomes debilitating, sowing the seeds of self-doubt from which creativity and vulnerability cannot grow.
The antidote, I’ve learned, is self-compassion. Instead of berating myself for what I have not done or who I have not become, I must treat myself with the same care and understanding I would offer a close friend. This means acknowledging my efforts and intentions, regardless of the outcome. Letting go of judgment and meeting myself where I am, with kindness and curiosity. Giving myself permission to make mistakes as I learn and grow. With this supportive inner voice cultivated through conscious practice, I can begin to override the harsh criticisms that once held me back from being my true, unfiltered self.
As I continue journaling now, I still hear the occasional whispered judgment, that my words seem silly or undeserving of record. But I’ve stopped letting it deter me; I acknowledge the thought, then let it drift away while I keep writing. With perseverance, I know the hold of my inner critic will weaken while my confidence grows. Perhaps one day writing freely will feel as natural as breathing, but the journey itself brings rewards, as each uninhibited word reconnects me to my inner light.
Now, as I continue my streak of 72 days of journaling, I open my journal with a sense of wonder and anticipation, eager to preserve my thoughts, feelings, and experiences, however imperfectly, knowing they are all fragments of the perpetually unfolding story that is my life.
