If critique hits harder than it should, it might be an old wound speaking
There are moments when someone says something as simple as “can we talk?” and my body reacts like I’m about to get grounded. I can feel the shift tight chest, overthinking, playing out every possible mistake I could’ve made just to prepare. It’s absurd, but real. I’m not a kid anymore, but something in me still is.
That’s the thing about feedback. It’s rarely just about the words. Sometimes it hits like a punishment we’ve already lived through a thousand times. And if you’re anything like me, you probably didn’t grow up in an environment where feedback was given softly. It came with tone, with looks, with silence that said more than any sentence. And even today, that tone lives somewhere in the background, waiting to be triggered.
What We Learned Without Knowing
For a lot of us, criticism wasn’t just correction it was shame. It wasn’t “you did something wrong,” it was “you are wrong.” That’s the message we internalized, whether it came from parents, teachers, or whoever had power over us back then. We didn’t have the emotional tools to separate the action from who we were, so we fused them.
And now? When someone brings something up no matter how gently we hear it with that same old filter. The volume goes up inside. Suddenly, we’re back in a familiar scene, one we didn’t choose, repeating itself with new characters.
The Loop We Don’t Realize We’re In
It’s wild how automatic it is. The over-explaining, the apologizing before anyone even says something, the silent resentment when someone points out something obvious. It’s a loop. Feedback triggers the fear, fear triggers the defense, and then we’re not even talking about the thing anymore we’re talking about the fear of being wrong. Or being bad. Or being too much.
Sometimes I catch myself replaying a tiny comment from someone for hours. Not because it was mean, but because of what it touched in me. And that’s the difference, right? It’s not just what they said, it’s what it meant to me. Or rather, what it meant to that younger part of me that still feels like love is something we can lose just by disappointing someone.
Noticing Is the First Step
I’m not trying to never get hurt by feedback again. That’s not even the goal. But I do want to start noticing when it’s the past that’s reacting, not the present. When the sting is way bigger than the sentence deserved. When I’m talking to someone now but answering to someone from years ago.
And maybe that’s the whole journey learning to sit with the discomfort without assuming we did something awful. Letting the emotion pass without needing to fix, please, or disappear. Realizing that being told “you could have done that differently” doesn’t mean “you’re unlovable.”
Giving Ourselves What We Didn’t Get
It took me a long time to realize I could give myself the kind of feedback I never received growing up. The kind that doesn’t rip you apart. The kind that says, “you’re still learning, and that’s fine.” That makes room for mistakes without shame. That doesn’t sound like punishment.
There are still days when my brain panics at the smallest comment. But now, I know where that voice comes from. And knowing that makes all the difference. It’s not about being bulletproof it’s about knowing where the wounds are and learning to tend to them, instead of pretending they’re not there.