BEING HARD ON YOURSELF IS NOT HELPING
Let me start with a confession.
Like many of you, I am exceptional at being hard on myself.
Not casually hard. Not "Ah shucks, I missed that piece of content" hard, I'm talking full-on, post-mordem, internal TED Talk titled: "Top 47 Reasons You Should Probably Quit Speaking and Take Up Landscaping."
Honestly, I would have loved to be a landscape architect. But, I digress.
After every workshop, I dissect the entire experience. It's not very productive, but I do it. I think about the segues, the bridges, the stories, the jokes. I think through it all – every time. You may have seen and experienced a GREAT event - all I can see are the missed moments and flawed delivery.
I genuinely thought this was a good thing. I thought it meant I cared. I thought it made me better.
Turns out… it doesn't.
There's this idea floating around in education (and especially music education) that if you're not hard on yourself, you're not serious. If you don't replay every mistake, you're not dedicated. If you're not analyzing every flaw, you're letting standards slip.
But here's what I've learned and resisted learning for years: being hard on yourself doesn't make you better. It just makes you tired.
When I mess something up—a bad phone call, a missed opportunity, a wrong call—I don't just note it and move on. I replay it. I overanalyze it. I add dramatic music to it. Then I mentally fire myself.
Instead of improving, I get stuck in a loop where I'm drained, doubting myself, and less present the next day. Which, ironically, makes me worse.
Here's the uncomfortable truth: self-criticism doesn't improve performance. Self-compassion does.
I know. I didn't like it either.
"Self-compassion" sounds like lowering the bar or letting yourself off the hook. It sounds soft. It sounds like the opposite of excellence.
It's not.
Self-compassion doesn't mean ignoring mistakes. It means responding in balance, not beating yourself up.
Same awareness, different response. Completely different result.
This really hit me when I realized something obvious: I would never talk to my students the way I talk to myself.
Seriously. Would you?
When a student struggles, I don't say, "Wow, you're a disaster. You're just not cut out for this. Hand over that instrument, son." (Although I may have thought it a few times).
If I wouldn't do that to someone else, why would I do that to myself? Why is it okay for me to go full drill sergeant on myself?
Whether we realize it or not, students are watching how we handle mistakes. Not just theirs—ours.
If they see a teacher who spirals, gets frustrated, and beats themselves up, they learn that mistakes equal failure. However, if they see a teacher who reflects, adjusts, and moves forward, they learn that mistakes are part of the growth process.
Now, let's be clear, I didn't read one article and suddenly become a calm, enlightened, self-compassionate expert. I still overthink. I still ruminate. I still occasionally convince myself I should be in landscaping.
But I have been working on accepting my humanity and embracing the fact that I will never be perfect, while trying to be better. Being hard on yourself doesn't make you a better teacher; it just makes the job heavier than it needs to be.
And, I think this job is heavy enough as it is.
If you're still being hard on yourself after reading this, don't worry. I'll be right there with you, rewriting this blog in my head for the next three days.
Have a great week.