Hello there.

Week three of June. Whether you’ve been following the month’s exploration or you’re finding your way here for the first time today, welcome — there’s something here for you.

This week we’re looking at two things that are closely connected: the particular moments when the inner critic escalates, and what responding to self-criticism actually involves — as distinct from reacting to it.

 

This week’s focus: the escalation, and the response

There’s a pattern worth knowing, and once you see it, it tends to change how you interpret what’s happening.

The inner critic doesn’t get loudest at random. It tends to escalate at particular moments — specifically, at moments where something real is at stake. Just before a brave thing. Just as something of you is about to be visible to the world. Just after you’ve tried something that genuinely mattered. Right at the threshold of growth or change or real exposure.

This is worth paying careful attention to, because most people interpret an escalating critic as evidence of unsuitability. The voice is getting louder, which means I’m clearly not ready, which means I should step back.

But there’s another way to read it: the voice is getting louder because you’re close to something worth doing. The critic deploys its full repertoire precisely when the stakes are high — not because the stakes being high means you’re not capable, but because high stakes are exactly when the old protection mechanism kicks into gear.

Understanding this shifts the meaning of the escalation. It doesn’t make the voice quieter. But it changes what you do with the volume.

From there, the question becomes: what’s the difference between reacting to self-criticism and genuinely responding to it?

Reacting is fast and automatic. It looks like either collapsing — accepting the critic’s verdict and pulling back — or overriding — ignoring the voice entirely through sheer willpower and ploughing on regardless. Both bypass what the critic is actually saying. Both leave the pattern essentially intact.

Responding is slower. It involves a pause that the automatic reactions don’t allow. It involves hearing the specific concern — you’re going to get it wrong, they’ll see through you, you’re not ready for this — and engaging with it honestly. Not to prove it wrong with argument. Not to pretend it isn’t there. But to ask, genuinely: is this actually true? And if there’s something real in it, how do I want to address that?

That honest engagement — slow, curious, from the ground rather than from defensiveness — is the practice. And each time it happens, even once, it builds something.

 

A client’s experience — Rachel’s story

Rachel described a moment she came to session wanting to understand. She’d been preparing for a significant presentation — weeks of work, something that genuinely mattered to her career — and on the morning of the presentation, her inner critic had reached a level of intensity she’d never experienced before.

You’re going to humiliate yourself. You’re out of your depth. Everyone will see it.

Her first instinct had been to call in sick. Her second had been to override the voice completely and white-knuckle her way through. She’d done the second — and it had gone well. But she’d arrived in session wondering why something that went well had felt so awful.

When we explored the critic’s escalation together, something became clear: the voice had been responding to real stakes. This had been the most significant professional opportunity she’d had. Of course the old protection mechanism had fired at maximum. Of course.

What she wanted to build wasn’t the ability to override the critic more effectively. It was the ability to engage with it honestly — to hear the concern underneath (I care about this and I’m afraid of getting it wrong), to acknowledge it with compassion, and to respond from somewhere clearer than either panic or brute force.

That’s a different kind of readiness. And it’s the kind that sustains.

 

This week’s challenge: noticing the escalation and practising the pause

Two things to work with this week.

The first: begin to notice when your inner critic escalates. Not as confirmation that you’re wrong or unready — but as information about where the real territory is. When the volume goes up, ask: what is at stake here that matters to me? Often the answer to that question is more useful than anything the critic is actually saying.

The second: practise one instance of responding rather than reacting. Choose one moment when the automatic response would be to follow the critic or to override it entirely — and instead, pause. Hear what it’s saying specifically. Ask: is there something real in this — and if so, what would an honest, grounded response look like?

Notice with gentle interest how different that feels from the automatic reactions. Not necessarily easier. But different. More deliberate. Less like being run, more like choosing.

Notice with gentle curiosity where in your body the automatic reactions live. The collapse often has a particular physical quality — a sinking, a deflation. The override often has a different one — a bracing, a tightening forward. Responding from the middle tends to feel stiller than both.

Be patient with yourself when the automatic reaction happens anyway. It will, sometimes. That’s not failure — that’s the pattern doing what patterns do. The practice is simply to notice, and try again next time.

 

Seasonal wisdom — late June on the Sunshine Coast

Late June here — the heart of winter, such as it is on the Sunshine Coast. Cooler and quieter than any other time of year. The days are at their shortest. The mornings have a particular stillness that doesn’t quite exist at any other time.

There’s something about this deepest part of winter that resonates with what this week’s work is asking. The season doesn’t try to be something it isn’t. It doesn’t force spring early. It does what it does — thoroughly, honestly, at exactly the pace the natural world requires.

The practice of responding rather than reacting asks for something similar: the willingness to slow down enough to be genuinely present with what’s actually happening, rather than rushing toward resolution. Winter patience. Winter honesty. Not dramatic — just real.

 

Join the Journey

Reflections continue every few days throughout June on Instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn.

Until next week — notice the volume. It’s telling you something worth listening to.

With warmth,
Gemma-Lee Harvey

 

 

About the Author:

Gemma-Lee Harvey is a Holistic Counsellor and Lifestyle Coach based on Australia’s Sunshine Coast. With a diverse background spanning psychology, business, counselling, and coaching, she creates a nurturing space for exploring one’s full potential. Her gentle yet practical approach kindles the transformative spirit within, guiding individuals through life’s challenges as they rise through empowerment.

 

Contact:

🌐 www.phynixbydesign.com.au
☎ 07 5493 6742
📱 0448 562 814
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Opening hearts & facilitating transformations since 2017

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