The Inner Monologue That Won't Stop: Understanding Persistent Self-Criticism

And a small thing you can do to help.

The self-critical narrator visits the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 📷

For a long time I thought everyone had a self-critical narrator in their head, constantly reminding them of all sorts of failures and inadequacies. And then for a while, I thought I was the only one. (Well, probably not the only one, but it seemed fairly abnormal.)

It turns out having a persistently critical internal monologue is a common neurodivergent trait—not a universal one, but a common one.

My narrator shows up at predictable times, like when I'm trying to fall asleep:

"Remember that thing you said during the meeting? Everyone noticed how weird that was. Oh, and speaking of conversations—you still haven't texted your friend back about next week. You're terrible at maintaining friendships. Actually, let's review ALL your friendship and relationship failures, starting from when you were a kid.”

It's there when I'm working on something important:

"You're not focusing enough. Anyone else would have finished this by now. Remember that last project you never completed? And the one before that? Let's review the list of everything you've started and abandoned..."

The voice sounds reasonable because it uses evidence. It builds its case carefully, connecting dots between every forgotten task, every awkward interaction, every abandoned project. It's like having a prosecutor in your head who's been gathering evidence your whole life and is always ready to present its case.

For a long time, I just accepted this voice as reality. After all, it wasn't wrong about the facts—I did mess things up sometimes, I did forget to text people back, I did leave projects unfinished. The evidence was there.

Then I learned something that made a big difference: You don't have to silence the critical voice. You just need to add another voice to the conversation.

When the critical voice says "You never follow through on anything," I let another voice join in: "I wanted to write and publish books, and I learned how to do it. I wanted to visit every country in the world, and I made it happen. I show up consistently for the people who matter to me."

When it starts in about feeling awkward or out-of-place, I add: "You know what? I might be awkward sometimes, but I'm also genuine. People appreciate that more than perfect social grace."

The critical voice doesn’t go away (or at least, that hasn’t been my experience). But now there's context. There's evidence for a defense, not just a prosecution.

Sometimes the new voice is quiet at first, which makes sense—the critical voice has had many years of practice! But every time you add another perspective, every time you expand the story beyond "I messed up again," you're building a more complete picture.

The inner monologue might never stop completely. But it doesn't have to be a one-sided conversation anymore.

A Simple Practice for Adding Another Voice

If you'd like to try this approach, here's what works for me:

1. When you notice the critical voice, pause. Don't try to fight it or push it away—just notice it's there.

2. Ask yourself: "What's the other side of this story?" For example:

• If the voice says "You're always late," add "I also show up reliably when people really need me."

• If it says "You can't focus," add "I also have the ability to hyperfocus on things that matter."

3. Be specific. Don't just think "I'm not that bad”—remind yourself of actual examples that counter the criticism. Real events, real accomplishments, real moments when you got it right.

The goal isn't to win an argument with yourself. It's simply to add more truth to the story. Try it for yourself sometime. 💚

Conversation Starters

• What does your internal monologue tend to fixate on?

• When do you notice your internal dialogue the most?

• What's a specific example you could add to counter your critical voice?