I’ve always had a very loud inner critic.
Not the kind that nudges you to do better or keep pushing - but the kind that tears you down before you’ve even begun. The kind that picks apart every photo, every sentence I speak, every moment I try to step out of my comfort zone. The kind that tells me I’m not enough. Or too much. Or both in the same breath.
I’ve said things to myself I wouldn’t dare say to another soul. About my body. My abilities. My motherhood. My creativity. My business. My place in this world. For as long as I can remember, I’ve looked at myself through a lens that was far from kind - and far from fair.
I’ve picked apart my appearance, especially after having a baby. I’ve looked in the mirror and felt shame when I should have felt pride for the strong, capable body that carried my son and continues to carry me. I’ve questioned every choice I’ve made as a mother - convinced that I’m somehow falling short, despite the love I pour into my little boy every single day. I’ve doubted my worth in friendships, second guessed my value as a wife, and picked apart every little detail of my work as a business owner until all I could see were flaws.
And maybe worst of all? I’ve convinced myself that all of this self-criticism was just being “realistic.”
But here’s the truth I’m finally learning at 33:
That voice isn’t realism - it’s sabotage.
It’s the result of years of conditioning, insecurity, fear, perfectionism, and the belief that if I could just be better, thinner, more successful, more “together” - then maybe I’d be worthy. Then maybe I’d be safe from judgment. Then maybe I’d stop feeling so… not enough.
It’s taken me this long to start calling out that voice for what it is: a liar.
Because the truth is - I am enough. And I always have been.
I am capable.
I am strong.
I am smart.
I am creative.
I am a good mother, a loving wife, a loyal friend, a daughter who tries her best.
And yes, I am beautiful - inside and out.
Even as I write those words, I can feel that same old voice stirring again, whispering that I sound arrogant, delusional, self obsessed. But I’m not letting it win today. Not this time.
Because if I don’t start showing myself the love and respect I deserve, what kind of example am I setting for my son? For the women around me? For myself?
Confidence doesn’t have to be loud. It doesn’t need to be posted all over social media or shouted from rooftops. Sometimes it’s just sitting with yourself and choosing to believe - quietly, firmly - that you are worthy. That your existence doesn’t need justification.
This isn’t a story of waking up one day and everything changing. It’s slow. It’s messy. It’s full of backslides and quiet wins. But I’m trying. And I know many of you are too.
So if you’ve ever stood in front of a mirror and picked yourself apart… if you’ve doubted your ability to parent, to create, to build something meaningful… if you’ve silenced yourself because you thought no one would care what you had to say, or that what you did have to say, would sound stupid - I see you. I’ve been you. And still am you, to a certain extent.
And I just want to say: you’re doing better than you think.
You are not the cruel things your mind says to you.
Let’s start being kinder. To ourselves.
Because we deserve it.
Wishing you a beautiful week, angels.
With love and wildflowers,
Kels x