I’ll just say it straight: I don’t like criticism. I never have. And it doesn’t really matter what kind it is — harsh, helpful, well-meaning, or even dressed up as “constructive” — it still hits me like a punch to the gut. I take it personally every single time, no matter how hard I try not to.
It’s not because I think I’m perfect. I’m not blind to my flaws or mistakes. Believe me, I know I’m a stubborn, emotional person who gets set in my ways. But when someone points out something I could’ve done better, no matter how kindly they say it, I immediately feel like they’re saying I’m not good enough — not just the work, not just the decision, but me.
I’ve been this way my whole life. As a kid, if a teacher told me I needed to work on something, I’d feel embarrassed and ashamed. As an adult, it hasn’t gotten much better. Even when the logical side of me understands that feedback is supposed to be helpful, the emotional side can’t separate the comment from my own sense of worth. It’s like there’s this voice in my head that says, “See? You’re not good enough. You messed up again.”
People will tell me, “Don’t take it personally,” like that’s something you can just switch off with a flip of a switch. But I can’t. It’s wired into who I am. I pour so much of myself into the things I do — my writing, my ideas, my decisions — that when someone critiques it, it feels like they’re critiquing me.
I’m working on it. I try to listen without immediately getting defensive. I try to remind myself that not every suggestion is an attack. But I’m not going to lie — it’s hard. It’s really hard.
If you’re someone who can take criticism like a champ, good for you. I admire that. But if you’re like me, someone who feels every little piece of feedback like a sharp poke to the heart, just know you’re not alone. Some of us just feel things a little more deeply. And while that can make criticism tough to swallow, it’s also what makes us who we are.
