Managing Perfectionism and Self-Criticism: Befriending Your Inner Critics

Perfectionism can be sneaky. On the outside, it often looks polished, organized, and driven. Friends or colleagues might even admire it: “You’re so disciplined!” “I don’t know how you do it all!”

But inside, perfectionism rarely feels like freedom. It’s more like living under a spotlight that never turns off. Every move feels scrutinized. There’s a constant sense of not enough—not smart enough, not thin enough, not kind enough, not accomplished enough. And hand in hand with perfectionism often comes its loyal companion: self-criticism.

Self-criticism isn’t usually subtle. It speaks in sharp tones: Why did you say that? You sounded so awkward. Or If you don’t get this right, you’re going to let everyone down. These voices can drive us to push harder, achieve more, and polish every rough edge. But instead of offering real safety, they often leave us feeling anxious, exhausted, and disconnected from our own joy.

The good news? There’s a different way to relate to these parts of ourselves—a way that doesn’t involve battling them or letting them take over. Two approaches that I often weave together in my work are Internal Family Systems (IFS) and Radically Open Dialectical Behavior Therapy (RO-DBT). While they come from different traditions, both offer compassionate and practical tools for easing perfectionism’s grip and softening the inner critic.

The Many Voices Within: An IFS Approach

IFS starts with the radical idea that we all have different “parts” inside of us—like characters in an inner play. Some are loud and bossy, others are quiet and fearful, and some carry wounds that feel too tender to touch. None of these parts are “bad.” In fact, they all developed to try to keep us safe.

Perfectionism and self-criticism are classic examples of what IFS calls protector parts. They may sound harsh, but their intentions are often surprisingly loving. A perfectionistic part might whisper: If you just get everything right, no one will leave you. A critical part might scold: Don’t mess this up—you can’t afford another mistake. Both are trying, in their own way, to shield us from rejection, shame, or vulnerability.

The trouble is that these parts don’t know when to rest. They operate as if the stakes are life and death, even when what’s at risk is a typo in an email or an awkward silence at a party.

In IFS, instead of pushing these parts away, we turn toward them with compassion and curiosity. We ask questions like:

• What are you afraid would happen if you didn’t push me so hard?

• When did you first take on this job?

• What do you wish I knew about you?

When we listen deeply, something remarkable often happens. The inner critic starts to soften. The perfectionist begins to reveal its vulnerable side. Many people find that their perfectionistic part first showed up in childhood—perhaps to win a parent’s approval or to avoid punishment. Seeing this, it becomes easier to meet the critic not with fear or resentment, but with kindness.

As one person put it after discovering this shift, “My inner critic isn’t a monster after all—it’s like a guard dog who thinks it’s protecting me, but it’s just really, really tired.”

When Control Becomes a Cage: An RO-DBT Perspective

While IFS helps us listen inwardly, RO-DBT focuses on how perfectionism plays out in our daily lives and relationships. RO-DBT was designed specifically for people who struggle with “over-control”—a tendency toward excessive self-restraint, rigidity, and fear of vulnerability.

Perfectionism thrives in over-control. It convinces us that if we can just stay in control—of our emotions, our image, our performance—we’ll be safe. But over time, this strategy can become a cage. Life feels smaller, narrower. Relationships may feel distant because we’re too afraid to show our unpolished, human selves.

RO-DBT suggests that the antidote isn’t more control—it’s radical openness. That might sound intimidating (and sometimes it is!), but it doesn’t mean spilling every secret or abandoning boundaries. Instead, it’s about experimenting with greater flexibility, humor, and willingness to be surprised.

Here are a few ways RO-DBT helps us loosen perfectionism’s grip:

• Self-inquiry: Catching ourselves when we get stuck in rigid rules or certainty, and asking, What if I tried this another way?

• Playfulness: Letting ourselves laugh, experiment, and make mistakes—sometimes on purpose. (Yes, a “mistake practice” can be deeply healing!)

• Social signaling: Sharing our true feelings and quirks with others, even when we fear they’ll judge us. This might look like saying, I’m nervous right now, or I actually don’t know the answer.

The goal isn’t to become reckless. It’s to reclaim the freedom that perfectionism often steals: the freedom to be human, to connect authentically, and to live with curiosity instead of constant self-monitoring.

Where the Two Approaches Meet

On their own, both IFS and RO-DBT are powerful. Together, they create a beautifully balanced way forward.

• IFS helps us befriend our perfectionistic and critical parts. Instead of trying to exile them, we learn to understand their fears and intentions.

• RO-DBT helps us practice new ways of being—more flexible, open, and playful in the outside world.

Think of it this way: IFS is like having a heartfelt conversation backstage with the characters in your inner play, while RO-DBT encourages you to step onto the stage and improvise in front of an audience, even if your lines aren’t perfect. Both are necessary if we want to live a fuller, freer life.

A Gentle Closing Thought

If perfectionism and self-criticism have been running your inner show, it’s not because you’re weak or broken. It’s because parts of you have been working tirelessly—sometimes for decades—to keep you safe. They’ve simply overextended their job descriptions.

By listening inwardly with compassion (IFS) and practicing openness outwardly (RO-DBT), you can begin to shift the relationship with these parts. Perfectionism and self-criticism don’t have to vanish in order for you to feel free. They just need to relax, step back, and let other parts of you—creativity, spontaneity, self-compassion—have more room on stage.

And here’s the wonderful surprise: when the inner critic puts down its sword and the perfectionist loosens its grip, life doesn’t fall apart. Instead, it often becomes richer, warmer, and infinitely more human.

As people often describe after this kind of inner work, “It feels like my inner critic finally stopped yelling at me and started sitting beside me. Sometimes it even laughs with me now. And that has changed everything.”

That’s the invitation: not to silence or banish parts of yourself, but to invite them into a kinder, more flexible, and ultimately more life-giving relationship.