Silencing the Inner Critic:

How to Find Your Inner Champion in Motherhood

We often hear about mom guilt—but what I’ve come to realize is that many of us are actually grappling with something deeper and more damaging: mom shame.

Guilt vs. Shame: Why It Matters

Although the term is often used interchangeably, the experiences are much different and their impact on the person can also be very different.

Guilt focuses on behavior:
“I did something wrong.”

Guilt can be healthy as it can encourage reflection, repair, and growth. The discomfort we feel when we feel guilty often fuels change. Research shows guilt can foster accountability and empathy

Shame focuses on identity:
“There’s something wrong with me.”

Shame tells us we are broken, unworthy, or failing. In motherhood, this can feel especially painful. Research shows often leads to depression, disconnection, and self-doubt.

We all have an inner critic voice. I visualize the inner critic and shame holding hands, skipping together as they cause a shame spiral. The inner critic highlights flaws and compares you harshly:

• “You’re not doing enough.”

• “Other moms have it together—why don’t you?”

This voice feeds shame and blocks your grace and compassion.

My Experience with Shame

In the early years of motherhood, shame was a constant companion. When my baby cried or my toddler had tantrums, I didn’t just respond to the moment—I internalized it:
“I’m not good enough.”
“I must be a bad mother.”

I look back on those moments and feel sad for my younger self. I had such good intentions, was trying so hard but felt awful most of the time. If I didn’t enjoy an aspect of motherhood or wasn’t grateful 100% I felt like an awful mother. Shame and the inner critic often have unrealistically high expectations.

 My Second Son was a Gift of Shame Resilience

If my first son gave me confidence and parenting experience, my second son gave me the gift of shame resilience.

My first was what many would call an “easy baby.” He slept well, was mostly content, and responded in ways that reassured me I was doing things “right.”

But my second? He shook everything I thought I knew.

He didn’t sleep. He screamed constantly—for years. He refused to nap, was grumpy and discontent, and didn’t respond to my soothing or structure in any predictable way. At the time, I was also completing my master’s degree, parenting a two-year-old and was often solo parenting with a unsupportive partner who worked mostly out of town. The combination of high stress and pressure and a child I felt I had no control or influence over created a deep sense of defeat.

That’s when shame really took root:

“If I were a better mom, he’d be happier.”
“If I knew what I was doing, he’d sleep.”
“There must be something wrong with me.”

I felt like I was failing. Not just struggling—failing.

But over time, something unexpected happened. I started to see the shame story for what it was: a lie. And I got tired of believing it.

Recognizing Shame in the Body

Shame isn’t only a thought—it’s a full-body experience. For me, it felt like:

• Chest tightening

• Face flushing

• A sinking heaviness in my stomach

• Urges to withdraw or lash out

Noticing these signals helped me pause and realize I was experiencing shame. The recognition and awareness allowed for me to change my response.

Once I could step out of shame, even briefly, I was able to manage my thoughts better. My child’s tantrum didn’t prove I was a bad mother; it meant he was having a hard time—and it was my job to help him. I changed my role and what my child’s behavior meant about me. My sense of worth no longer fluctuated based on my child’s actions. I could parent from a sturdier place.

Before, I was reacting out of fear and hustling to escape shame.

How to Get Out of Shame: A Gentle Process

1. Name It to Tame It
   “This is shame. I recognize this feeling.”

2. Ground in the Present Moment
   Feel your feet. Breathe. Remind your body it’s safe.

3. Externalize the shame critical thought: I am a bad mom.

4. Speak Compassionately to Yourself / shift the negative thought
   “You’re not a bad mom. You’re having a hard moment.”

5. Reach for Connection
   Talk to someone safe. Shame thrives in silence but softens with connection.

Building Shame Resilience

I began to challenge the inner critic.

I realized I was measuring myself by unrealistic expectations—ones that didn’t reflect my actual circumstances or capacity and was only fueling my shame. I started asking:

• What is actually realistic for me right now?

• What would it look like to parent from truth, not shame?

I began to embrace duality, the ability to hold two truths at once:

I am a good mom and I don’t love loud, overstimulating playdates.
I am a good mom and we’re skipping swimming lessons this round.
I care deeply about their childhood and I have needs, limits, and preferences too.

Just like we have an inner critic, we also have an inner champion. Your inner champion is a quieter, wiser voice that:

• Is kind when you’re hard on yourself

• Supports you when you feel like giving up

• Stays steady when life feels chaotic

• Reminds you of your inherent worth

The inner critic may not “go away” although that would be lovely. However, we can practice bringing a new voice to the narrative. The inner critic tries to be loud because it thinks it’s protecting you. But it’s not telling the truth. Your inner champion holds a deeper truth:

• You are worthy.

• You are growing.

• You are enough—especially on the messy, tired, unfinished days.

Let that voice rise. You deserve it.

How to Activate Your Inner Champion

1. Notice the Voice
   Pause and ask, “Who’s speaking?”

2. Reframe the Narrative
   “What would my inner champion say instead?”

3. Borrow a Loving Voice
   Think of someone who believes in you. What would they say?

4. Journal or Speak It Out Loud
   Write a compassionate note to yourself to deepen this new pattern.

Reclaiming My Motherhood

Shame is fuelled by “should.” “I should be able to do everything, all the time, with a smile.” “I should have endless patience.” “I should bake with my toddler and love every minute of it.”

One of the biggest turning points was untangling the should narrative.

I started taking ownership of my motherhood, without making my child’s behavior the measure of my worth or letting society define the “shoulds” of what a good mother looks like.  I realized through my experience parenting that being a “good mother” isn’t about controlling outcomes and or checking off a list of expectations. That’s an incomplete, and unfair, definition. I decided it is about showing up honestly, lovingly, and wholeheartedly, even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy. I didn’t want my kids to grow up thinking they had to be perfect to be loved, so I let go of that expectation for myself too. I began to reflect on the kind of mother I truly am and want to be, rather than the one society told me I should be.

I moved from shame to pride. I started making space for myself, my values, my interests, my way of being in my children’s childhood. Because I realized: this is not just their childhood. This is my motherhood. And I matter too. The practice of being kinder to myself and reframing my narrative to one that reflects my inner champions voice is a practice. It is not a one-time thing. It is an over and over type things. But when I allow in self-compassion and a kinder voice, shame loses its grip. I have come along way from the “right kind of mom” and started becoming my kind of mom—the one who shows up, who gets it wrong sometimes (sometimes a lot), who keeps going, and who loves deeply.

Written by: Jennifer Benson (Registered Psychologist) (speciality in helping the helper, perinatal mental health, and parenting struggles)