Claire Eastham struggled to be kind to herself because her anxiety often told her she "wasn't ever good enough." After years of criticizing and chastising herself, she chose to ask herself why she had such difficulty showing self-compassion. From there, she decided to "fake it" until she really felt it. Here are three steps she learned to help silence her inner critic.
“You need to be kinder to yourself, Claire!”
For the longest time, I had no idea what that meant. My constant self-judgment and criticism were me being kind to myself. I wanted to be perfect, the best person I could possibly be. Being gentle with myself would hold me back and waste time. Wouldn't it?
The definition of kindness is “the quality of being generous, helpful, and caring.”
I can be all these things to others, especially family and friends. That’s not a problem. But being kind to myself and practicing “self-compassion”? Forget it.
Living with social anxiety for over a decade means I perfected the art of self-punishment, whether that be physical or mental. I engaged in endless self-criticism, overworking to exhaustion or slamming my fingers in drawers when I made a mistake. Yep, my anxiety and I had self-punishment down to a T.
A few years ago, when writing my second book, I let things go too far and disregarded the most basic needs, such as food and rest. Self-compassion, or why being kind to myself mattered, never occurred to me. Instead, I belittled myself for being “weak.”
“Somebody else would’ve got this done. You’re pathetic,” I thought.
I pushed myself to work harder than ever before and for longer hours.
This approach isn’t uncommon, especially in the workplace. As author Sarah Wilson beautifully puts it:
Anxious behavior is rewarded in our culture. Being high-strung, wound up, frenetic, and soooo busy has cachet. I ask someone, “How are you?” and even if they’re kicking back in a caravan park in the outback with a beer watching the sunset, their default response is, “Gosh, so busy, out of control, crazy times.” And they wear it as a badge of honor.
This means that many of us deny we have a problem and keep going and going. Indeed, the more anxious we are, the more we have to convince ourselves we don't have a problem. This is ironic or paradoxical. And it seems awfully cruel. (Wilson, 2018, p. 62). 01
“I wouldn’t be surprised if my head explodes at some point!” I used to joke.
Then, in September of that year, it did. I had a mental breakdown and ended up in the ER during the late hours of a Friday night.
During my recovery, I finally had an epiphany. I couldn’t keep treating myself this way if I wanted to remain healthy.
I needed to make some changes. Yet, I had no idea where to start with “self-compassion.” Was taking a bath with some candles the answer to “being kind to myself”?
There must be more to it than that?
I can’t help but feel irked when I come across gifs and posts on social media encouraging me to “be kind” to myself. They’re often written in pastel colors; an affirmation stamped onto a beach background. I’m not irritated because I don't appreciate the message but because I’m perplexed by it. It’s as if the world assumes that self-compassion comes naturally to everyone when the complete opposite is true for me.
In the end, I cracked the self-compassion code by faking it – initially, at least. The results of faking, I found, were the same as really feeling it.
When my mental health got stuck in anxious, self-critical loops, the urge to be kind to myself wasn’t present… but I found that, with effort, I could go through the motions of actions that somewhat resembled self-care.
Now - although I feel like I'm still "faking" it to some degree - when self-criticism calls, self-compassion isn't far behind. Even if I must push it forward with a firm hand on its back.
Stop. Deep breath. “I’ve got this.” Carry on.
When we feel anxious, self-criticism may initially take center stage, especially when tired. However, we can slowly bring compassion into the mix.
In her book, The Kindness Method, life guru Shahroo Izadi refers to the “Couch Analogy.” She encourages readers to imagine their inner voice as characters in a TV show they’re watching. The scene is someone ("The Critic") taking up too much space on a couch and shouting abuse.
She then introduces a second character, who’s softly spoken and takes a while to get comfortable. This character is "Kindness." Eventually, Kindness perches on the arm of the same couch and gently challenges what The Critic is saying. For example:
The Critic: She’s such an idiot!
Kindness: I hear what you're saying, but I disagree. Look at everything she's achieved. She's very intelligent.
Izadi says:
Initially, The Critic will win the argument, as Kindness isn't used to being present. But, slowly, as the conversation continues, Kindness will start to infiltrate the mental barriers we have in place. The idea is to build a new habit rather than replace a bad one. (Izadil, 2018, p.54). 02
It takes practice and feels strange at first, but it does help. My anxiety-fraught, negative emotions melt away much faster when I use this technique.
Or, better, think of what a child needs. For example, they need food, water, sleep, cleanliness, affection, exercise, and social interaction.
Then, as you go through your day, tick off each point as and when you provide yourself with it. Viewing myself as a caregiver for my alter-ego, Anxious Me, keeps me in line. Decent food, for example, isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity.
Affection, like cuddles, gives me a much-needed oxytocin boost!
We all have something that’s a comfort to us. Mine, for instance, is sleep. Sod mindfulness, I want my bed. A decent sleep brings a better mood with it the next day, and proper rest heals my sometimes-turbulent mental health like nothing else.
I often don't even need to sleep; I just like lying in bed reading or drinking tea.
Unfortunately, staying in bed can be associated with being “lazy,” and, in some cases, this might be true. Still, as a grown woman, I know what I like and what soothes me.
I don’t want to go for a 10-kilometer run; I want to binge-watch Netflix in bed.
So, that’s what I do once a week.
I still feel the guilt, but I let it wash over me the same way I do with self-criticism. Then I stay put…. and you know what? It feels glorious.
Faking it with actions, rather than expecting to feel genuine self-compassion, was a good start. It calmed my 24/7 anxious thoughts and helped me form new, healthy habits.
I can’t stop my brain from being critical, but I can turn the volume down on its negativity with some essential self-care.
First We Make the Beast Beautiful, Wilson, 2018, Harper Collins USA.
The Kindness Method, Izadil, 2018, Bluebird.
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NPS-ALL-NP-01488 MARCH 2025