Write Things: On defending yourself from criticism

Hello writers!

This topic might be controversial for some. 

Remember, everything in life is just a story. The beliefs we hold are simply the ones we’ve deemed to be “true.”

Idea: On Mindset

Never defend yourself or your art against criticism. Ever.

At a surface level, defending yourself is a fool’s errand. You’re trying to convince the critic of something—but you can’t control what others think, nor is it your obligation or right to do so. And the cost of defending yourself goes far beyond the time and energy wasted in trying to change someone’s mind.

You plant the seeds of something far more harmful.

When I get defensive, my eyes harden. I steel myself for a fight. I say things I wouldn’t normally say—aggressive, rude things. Inevitably, I start critiquing the critic, mirroring the very behavior that set me off.

In that state, I lose the ability to choose who I want to be. And when I’m defensive, curiosity, creativity, and calmness become impossible—all because I chose to believe I needed to defend myself.

Why Do We Defend Ourselves?
We only defend ourselves when we believe there’s something at stake if we’re “wrong.”

It’s well known that we have a misaligned relationship with failure. Did you know that the word sin originally meant “to miss the mark”?

Failure isn’t something to avoid; it’s how we learn and create new things. But defending yourself against failure only reinforces the idea that it’s something to fear.

The Stories We Tell Ourselves
Why not approach criticism with curiosity instead of defensiveness?

Type the word sin into a Google search. You’ll see how deeply many of us equate failure with being worthless or unlovable. Yet none of those things are true.

You’re not worthless if you fail.
You’re not unlovable if you fall short.
You’re still worthy of respect if you make a mistake.

But defensiveness tells a different story. It says there are “right” ways of doing things and that the consequences of not following them must be avoided at all costs. Defensiveness keeps this story alive.

And even after the moment of criticism has passed, the story doesn’t leave—it lingers, running quietly in the background.

The Cost of Defending Myself
Recently, I received criticism that triggered an emotional response. I calmed myself before responding, but I still defended myself. The critic didn’t ask for an explanation, but I gave one anyway.

In doing so, I took part in the story. I made it real.

The critic thanked me, and all seemed fine between us. But it wasn’t fine within me—I just didn’t realize it yet.

In the following weeks, I became critical—not of my clients, but of my loved ones. My wife wasn’t articulating herself clearly. My children were telling half-truths. And I let them know it, causing tension in our home.

The more it happened, the more frustrated I became. I had become the critic.

A Self-Reinforcing Cycle
This story, born from that initial act of defensiveness, was now replicating itself in my life. Not consciously—I actively reject judgment—but reactively.

I’d catch a half-truth or a vague comment and immediately point it out. Then I’d apologize and judge myself for my behavior. Criticism turned inward, resulting in guilt and shame.

It’s a terrible cycle.

Fortunately, I recognized what was happening. That original criticism had taken root, like a computer virus, and was replicating itself. Once I saw it, I made the choice to make a shift and let it go. I rewrote the story:

Mistakes are information that I can choose to act upon or not. 

I’m right where I need to be, learning what I need to learn. 

I’m grateful that I have people who are willing to communicate their concerns with me. 

The truth really does set you free. And once I released it, the urge to nitpick vanished.

Gremlins and Criticism
Was it the critic’s intention to cause this chain reaction? Absolutely not.

Do I blame myself for defending myself? No. It happens. We all have inner critics, and sometimes they take over.

But defending yourself is like feeding gremlins after midnight—it makes them stronger. And stronger gremlins create more criticism in your life.

So many writers I work with are plagued by their inner-critics. And the result is usually paralysis. They very rarely get their work out there. There’s always something else to change, something that can be made better. 

It’s not good or bad, right or wrong, to critique or defend yourself—it’s just something we do. 

But if you want the cycle to stop, it has to start with you. 

Inspiration: “A judgement”

Set a timer for four minutes and write continuously on the prompt above. This week, lean into the images, feelings, or ideas that feel important. Afterward, decide whether to revise, continue, or leave it as is.

Forward someone this email and ask them to do it too! Then share what you’ve written. Sharing imperfect work is a powerful antidote to the poison that is our inner critics.

Invitation: Curiosity Over Defensiveness

Think back to a criticism you’ve received—one that stung. Take a moment to reflect on it with curiosity instead of defensiveness.

Ask yourself:

• What does the critic like or think is correct?
• What do I agree with? 
• How might I grow as a writer or as a person because of this insight?

Set a timer for 10 minutes and write about the criticism. Focus not on defending yourself but on observing your reaction and exploring what, if anything, the experience taught you.

This exercise isn’t about rehashing past wounds—it’s about releasing defensiveness and shifting into curiosity. Tell yourself a new story.

That's it for this week. I wish you and your stories all the best!

Sincerely,

Trevor Martens