“You’re you own worst critic.”
People have been saying that to me since I was a senior in high school. It was for various reasons, and usually because my inner perfectionist was rearing it’s ugly head about a project, essay paper, exam, or the current boy of my affection. Up until recently, I hadn’t heard that phrase because I have learned to control the prissy, snobby, perfectionist that lives inside me. She came out yesterday evening. She caught me when I was vulnerable, after arguing with someone, and she’s been camped out in my head ever since, making comments to me. I’ve been picking myself apart for no reason and I hate that. It’s things that no one else notices, like how my fingers have a tad more pudge then I want them to. The way my stomach still isn’t completely flat when I’m naked but looks great in clothes, my random curls that refuse to conform to the ponytail I have my hair in today. My inner critic reminded me of these things constantly today, but yet when I tell people (or show my poor sister my imaginary finger pudge) they give me the wide-eyed look along with “Oh stop! You’re your own worst critic.” I know I’m obsessing over nothing, I promise, but now that she’s pointed out these things I’m fixated on them. Are a couple of baby curls not in the ponytail that big of a deal? No, but she keeps telling me they are.
I can’t figure out how to push my critic back into remission, I don’t remember the magic words. How do you get your critic to be quiet and back off? Does your inner perfectionist come out to play often? What does your critic pick on you for?
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