Skip to main content

The Voice Inside: A Compassionate Look at the Singer’s Inner Critic


Despite what you’ve been told - or what you’ve come to believe - your voice was never meant to be perfect. It was meant to be shared.

We’ve all heard of the Inner Critic—that persistent little voice that assumes the roles of vocal coach, life coach, and talent show judge all rolled into one. It whispers (or shouts), “Was that flat?” “Do you even know what you're doing?” “Why can’t you sound more like them?”

If you’ve experienced this, you’re far from alone. I’ve faced my share of vocal hurdles, including a lasting injury, and the Inner Critic has proven to be just as stubborn. I know its voice well. Over the years, my Inner Critic became one of the most persistent blocks in my singing life. It didn’t just make me doubt my singing - it made me doubt myself, and it killed my joy.

Perhaps most insidiously, it fuelled a constant cycle of comparison. I’d measure my voice against others, silently keeping score, convinced that someone else’s brilliance meant I didn’t measure up. You could say I had voice envy. It wasn't always like that, I once sang with generosity and freedom - until the inner voice drowned out my sound... Enter The Inner Critic!

The Inner Critic is not an inherent flaw, but a learned protector - often formed early in life as a response to criticism, shame, or environments where love and acceptance were conditional. According to Internal Family Systems (IFS) theory, the Inner Critic emerges as a “manager part”, a sub-personality that attempts to prevent pain by monitoring and correcting behaviour before others can judge or reject us (Schwartz, 2001). 

Seeing the Critic in this light allows us to move into a posture of compassion. For many singers, it’s born out of necessity for self protection. When your voice has been under the microscope - corrected, judged, or measured - especially in spaces where it feels personal and exposed, the Inner Critic rushes in like a protective bodyguard trying to keep you safe, preventing you from further pain by pre-empting criticism: “If I catch the flaw first, maybe no one else will.” It watches, it braces, it tries to keep you safe.

But the trouble is, that protection comes at a cost. It disconnects you from your deepest expressive self.

Take a moment to remember your original love for singing - the one you may have forgotten under the weight of technique, performance anxiety, or years of being corrected. Because singing, at its core, is an act of elaborate and extraordinary communication. Something real, vulnerable, and wholly human.

It’s time to release the Inner Critic from their duty and bring back the joy in your singing.

Your voice doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to be yours.

Teaching Reflection: Singing for Someone Else

In lessons, when a student is caught in the grip of self-criticism, I encourage them to imagine singing for just one person—real or imaginary. Someone specific, who needs to hear the song.

I call this their performance avatar. They get to design this listener in as much detail as they like—age, expression, posture, energy, even what they’re going through. The more vivid, the better. This simple creative shift engages both empathy and play, and the Inner Critic starts to fade into the background.

Next time that self-doubt creeps in, gently remind it:
“This isn’t about me. This is about lifting someone up.”

Subscribe to the blog




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Perfectionism, Singing, and the Quiet Toll on Mental Health

Perfectionism is a term we hear often in the arts, and in some circles, it’s even worn like a badge of honour. Many singers—including myself—take pride in setting high standards, and tireless preparation. But what happens when that drive to be perfect starts driving us ? I’ve spent much of my professional life in and around singing—as a performer, teacher, and now as a researcher. One thing I’ve noticed again and again is just how many singers identify as perfectionists. We often see it as a bit of a quirk or strength: evidence of our commitment, work ethic, and respect for the craft. And yet, for many of us, perfectionism hasn’t been a source of freedom. It’s been a source of suffering. In psychological literature, perfectionism is increasingly understood not just as a trait, but as a process —a way of thinking, behaving, and relating to oneself that can deeply affect emotional wellbeing. Self-oriented perfectionism, in particular, is common among musicians. This is the kind where t...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Singer Who Doesn’t Sing

There was a time when singing felt as natural as breathing. Not just something I did—but who I was. From my teenage years, singing wasn’t a skill—it was my identity. It was how I connected, how I expressed joy, how I made people feel good. It made me feel attractive, wanted, visible. Before I knew I could sing, I didn’t think I had much to offer. But when I sang, people responded. And that response began to shape my sense of self. For years, I lived and worked as a singer. It was in my friendships, my social life, my work, my spirit. I belonged to communities of musicians. I was on stage. I was in the room. I was in it . And then—quietly—I wasn’t. When my voice began to feel unstable, when I no longer trusted it, I did what so many do with something precious and painful: I hid it. I didn’t talk about it. I didn’t announce anything. I just moved countries. I told myself I was starting a new life—and I was. But underneath that move was a quieter truth: I was finding a way to step o...
4 comments
Read more

When a Voice Becomes a Thing: Objectification in Singing

Establishing the Ground I’ve been dancing around this for a while—wondering whether to lay down a kind of philosophical welcome mat for anyone curious enough to follow my writing. Part of me hesitated (I do love to leap straight into the deep end), but I know I use certain terms— shame , objectification , embodiment —that deserve some unpacking. So this post is a beginning. Or rather, a bridge. Over the next few blogs, I’ll share some of the frameworks that have shaped my research and teaching. None of them are fixed. They’re evolving—much like the singers I work with, and like me, as I keep reading, listening, and learning. These concepts don’t belong to me. But I’ve been holding them up to the light, testing them against real experiences. They’ve helped me understand something about the inner lives of singers—the quiet pressures and unspoken hurts—and I think they might help others, too. This isn’t about airtight definitions. It’s about naming the waters we’re swimming in—so we ...
Post a Comment
Read more