I am my own worst critic at times.
I know it.
It's something I have been working on with my therapist for years with more or lesser degrees of success.
My writing has improved tremendously over the last few years, and I cover quite a bit in my role as editor of the Stettler Independent, but I do – occasionally – make mistakes. I'm human.
The making of mistakes isn't the problem; it's letting them gnaw at me, letting them fester like an open wound, that does.
Really, mistakes are going to happen at all levels... look at Boeing's Starliner. NASA didn't feel the capsule was safe enough to bring astronauts Suni Williams and Butch Wilmore home from the International Space Station, so they had their eight-day mission in June extended until potentially February 2025. Why do I suddenly feel a comparison to Gilligan's Island coming on...
Put in perspective, that's a slightly bigger screw-up than a couple of occasional typos in a local paper, though it is a matter of scale I guess. Still, when I get it wrong it bothers me.
When I get negative feedback, it bothers me.
It feels like it cancels out all the good, which is sad because lately, there has been more good than bad.
Something that helps me is a quote by Theodore Roosevelt.
Roosevelt is famously credited for "The Man in the Arena."
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better," says Roosevelt, in his famous speech.
"The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
Criticism sucks; self-criticism is no different.
The internal voice that beats you up over flaws, real or perceived, is no different than the outside voices that weigh in on the work I do. I've always pushed myself hard, setting a high, often unrealistic, bar for myself. That has not always ended well, but over time it has pushed me to higher and higher levels that I never before thought possible.
While I still have the internal dialogue that seeks to tear me down, Roosevelt's quote helps remind me that the critic doesn't count, internal or external. We are all going to stumble. We are all going to fall. What we do when we fall, when we have setbacks, that is what is going to define us.
I used to be scared of putting myself out and trying new things because I was scared of the failure and criticism that was sure to follow. I stayed in the shadows, and because of that, I was meek and a shell of who I should have been or have become.
Over the last few years I've learned, with help from Roosevelt's quote, that it's not whether you fail that matters because everyone will eventually fail, it's whether you actually tried in the first place or not that's important.
While getting to this point has been uncomfortable, it has allowed me to quiet the inner critical voice, and not be so hard on myself when outside criticism comes in. The new confidence I have developed allows me to learn from my mistakes and move on, without the paralyzing self-loathing that would come after the fact.
As long as I can keep standing tall after each time I stagger, progress has been made.
-Kevin Sabo is the editor of the Stettler Independent and a journalist for Black Press Media.
