When Doing Becomes Your Worth: Unhooking from the Inner Critic’s Loop
The Quiet Tyranny of “More”
There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that doesn’t show up on lab tests. Although I wish it did, for my own sake.
It’s the exhaustion of always being “on.”
Of tying your worth to your to-do list.
Of silently believing, “If I’m not doing something useful… I’m falling behind.”
This belief doesn’t always scream. Often, it whispers.
It hides behind phrases like:
“I just need to finish one more thing.”
“I’ll rest when it’s done.”
“They’re counting on me.”
Raise your hand if you can relate to any or all of these phrases. (Silently raises hand.)
And even when you know better, when you want to rest, slow down, opt out, the voice inside says:
“You haven’t earned that yet.”
This is the inner critic of so many high-functioning, high-achieving, sensitive women and men.
It drives perfectionism. It whispers urgency. And it rewards you for burnout.
When did you first learn that doing equaled value?
The Voice That Runs Deep — My Personal Story
The voice of perfectionism, worth, and overdoing runs deep, almost bone-deep.
In my family, it feels generational. My mom, my grandmas, my sisters… we’ve all been doers.
And somewhere along the way, doing became the currency for being loved, seen, and valued. I’ve watched each of us burn out. I’ve cried for them and myself, given advice, and seen my burnout at play many times.
Doing more than we could sustain, convincing ourselves it was necessary.
And then vowing: never again. We’ve learned, grown, and we won’t repeat the cycle.
But for some of us, burnout wasn’t just quiet exhaustion, it became escape.
The weight of always being “on,” of always giving, of never resting… became unbearable.
And instead of collapsing inward, I have seen some of us flee.
We burned things down in a moment: left jobs, relationships, entire identities. Not out of clarity, but out of overload.
The nervous system said, “Get out. Now.”
And so we did. Impulsively. Desperately. Sometimes even destructively.
That’s what this overdoing can do when it has nowhere to go; it pushes you until you can’t carry it anymore. And then it breaks things.
But that voice… the inner critic… is sly.
Even after rest, even after slowing down, even after thinking I had done the work to change and not burn out again… I’d get hooked again.
One compliment. One moment of praise for something I did, and suddenly I’d feel euphoric, like I could take on the world.
The critic would quiet just long enough to say:
“See? This is who you are. This is why you matter.”
And then the cycle would start again.
Have you ever felt the urge to disappear just to escape being needed?
What parts of you might be trying to flee not from life, but from pressure?
Two Faces of Overdoing: Collapse and Flight
When the nervous system is trapped in a loop of performance and pressure, it eventually breaks but not always in the same way.
For some, it leads to burnout and collapse, where the body finally says, “I can’t.”
You shut down. You numb out. You can barely function.
Rest becomes mandatory, but often guilt-laced. The critic still whispers, even from the bed.
Oh, and the shame. When I have collapsed and had no motivation, the inner critic made me aware that I was “lazy, insignificant, and weak.” The shame would tell me, “I should be able to do more… like Kelly down the street. She clearly has it all together and is better than you.”
But for others, the breaking point shows up as flight.
The pressure becomes so unbearable that the only way out seems to be escape.
That can look like:
Suddenly quitting a job
Ending a relationship overnight
Burning bridges that once felt essential
Walking away not out of clarity, but from sheer nervous system overload
It’s not because you’re reckless.
It’s because no one ever showed you how to stop safely.
If you’ve found yourself in this place… impulsive, panicked, running, collapsed… it doesn’t mean you failed.
It means your system was trying to protect you… the only way it knew how.
When you feel overwhelmed, do you tend more toward collapse or escape?
Can you meet that response with compassion, not shame?
Why This Challenge Exists — The Hidden Programming Behind Overdoing
For many women, and deeply sensitive men, this confusion runs deep.
Being caring, nurturing, capable… these are beautiful traits. But when society consistently rewards your “doing,” it wires you to equate action with worth.
This isn’t just personal. It’s cultural. It’s generational.
We’re praised for being helpful, organized, and emotionally generous. We’re told we’re “strong” when we hold it all together.
Eventually, that praise becomes euphoric, needed, desired… and invisible. You forget that there's another way to exist.
We form an identity that whispers, “I matter because of what I can do.”
And letting go of that story? It’s not just hard, it can feel like disappearing.
What would you lose, or fear losing, if you stopped over-functioning?
Who might no longer recognize you… and who might finally see you?
A Client's Moment of Awakening
I once had a client in my office, and as we were exploring this “doer-part”, the part of her that always needed to achieve, help, and perform, she paused. Quiet and reflective, she said something I’ll never forget:
“I think my internal meter is broken.”
She continued, her voice soft but steady:
“I think for so long I thought this was me… this is how I functioned. Now I’m beginning to see that I can push far beyond other people’s limits and still keep pushing. That’s not a badge I want anymore. I want to learn a new way of being. I want a more steady internal meter that cues me in before it’s too far gone.”
That moment, the realization that what once felt like resilience was actually disconnection, is a profound turning point.
She didn’t want to be admired for her ability to overfunction.
She wanted to feel whole, not heroic.
And that shift? It changes everything.
Have you ever ignored your “internal meter”? What were the consequences?
What might a steadier, more attuned version of you actually feel like?
What Begins to Heal the Inner Critic’s Loop
The trap of performance-based worth isn’t undone by productivity hacks or better self-care routines.
It’s healed in relationship to yourself, to others, and to new rhythms of being.
One practice that’s helped me (and many clients) is this:
The Leaf Practice
The next time your inner critic whispers, “You need to do more,” pause.
Visualize writing that thought on a leaf.
Picture gently placing it in a stream.
Watch it float away.
Let yourself stay still.
You may have to do it more than once.
You may not feel “better” right away.
But each time, you’re interrupting the pattern.
You’re creating a new kind of safety: one rooted in being, not proving.
One rooted in mindfulness and the noticing of thought versus getting hooked to the thought and acting on the thought.
You are not your output.
You are not your performance.
You are not the sum of what you give to others.
You are already enough, exactly as you are.
What belief about “enough” would you place on that leaf today?
The Invitation to Belong Without Earning It
So many of us secretly fear that if we stop doing, we’ll become invisible.
But the truth is, real belonging begins when we stop performing.
I once had a client say, “I feel like I am ‘on’ all the time. Like the performance never stops.” But when she began to ‘stop performing’ and began to show up for herself, something amazing happened. She was able to connect to qualities, characteristics, and values that actually aligned with who she was today.
When we show up in our tiredness.
In our quiet.
In our unpolished truth. The people who love you for you will still be there.
The people who only valued what you could offer?
They were never your people.
This isn’t about isolation, it’s about alignment.
Choosing relationships, work, and rhythms that honor your humanity, not just your usefulness.
You’re allowed to rest.
You’re allowed to be soft.
You’re allowed to not do… and still be deeply worthy of love and presence.
What kind of belonging are you craving now, and what would it take to welcome it?
A Reflection for You
If this post stirred something in you, here’s a gentle place to begin:
What was your earliest memory of “earning” love through doing?
Whose approval felt safest, and what did you have to do to keep it?
What does your body feel like when you’re not being productive? (Mine can often feel fidgety and tense)
And then, just for today:
Can you name your inner “doer-part”?
Can you thank it for protecting you, and let it rest just for today, and if that feels too hard, even just for a few minutes?
Try the leaf practice.
Try pausing before saying “yes.”
Try imagining a version of you that is still enough.
Let that vision settle in your chest.
Let it breathe there.
You are already whole.
If you’re navigating this shift, from overdoing to inner steadiness, you don’t have to do it alone.
This is the kind of work I do with clients: not fixing, not forcing, but gently untangling the knots between self-worth and self-sacrifice.
If this speaks to you, you’re welcome to book a session or a consult.
Or simply stay.
Let this be enough.
You’ve already done enough for today.
Be well,
Kristi x
