Criticism. What a fickle word, huh? I don’t know about you, but the moment I hear it, I go into defense mode. Our brains are interesting, we jump into fight or flight (or fear or fawn…more on that another day) and then our logic kind of shuts off. We morph into survival mode. 

This is all good. Our brains are supposed to do this for us. Unfortunately, the brain has a difficult time distinguishing between true threat (like run for your life kind of threat) and something that’s upsetting or bothersome or triggering. 

Which leaves the job of discerning this information and simultaneously acting on it to us. 

Now, if you’re being chased by a bear, chances are great that you’re going to respond accordingly. You can thank your autonomic nervous system for that.

But what happens when our body responds as if you’re being hounded by a grizzly, but you’re not in the woods?  You’re actually nowhere near a bear, you’re simply trying to drive on the highway or you’re anticipating a phone call from someone who “needs to talk to you.”

Point blank, trauma/adverse childhood experiences remove our ability to logically respond to situations which heighten our autonomic nervous systems reactions. We have to work really diligently to take back some of that control.

Story time. 

Last week, someone I Iove called me to talk about something I had done which upset them. I made a choice to discuss a topic which felt insanely triggering to them and to be frank, very disappointing. Without going into all the detail, they were 100% correct and their points were insanely valid.  

But who enjoys being criticized, right? Obviously, my intentions were not to upset anyone, and I knew that, but the fact of the matter is I did. As I reflect on that conversation, I recall noticing my heartbeat beginning to pick up the pace, my palms began to sweat, and my hands started to shake; my initial reaction was to deflect and tell them ALL about themselves. YOU are going to criticize ME? No ma’am. I was triggered and my mind went in 132 different directions about how their feedback somehow made me less than. Shame began to rear its ugly head.

Except that wasn’t the response. That is the impulse; what my “old brain” is telling me to do. But where does that get me? Where does that get anyone? This is someone I love and someone whose opinion I value. They were not being mean, and they were not digging at my ability to be a great therapist or person. They were simply saying, “Hey, this isn’t the person I know you to be or the person you want to be seen as, so tighten it up.” 

I needed that. We all do. We need a little humility and a little critical feedback from time to time. Instead of telling them where to go, with the right work and intention, you can override that default. It’s a practice, it’s not an achievement (snagged that little bitty from a valued colleague.) 

So, cheers to critical feedback and conflict which can lead to growth. 

Be well.