Ten people say the food is delicious. One says it is a little dry. Guess which comment gets remembered at dinner? The nine compliments have done their job and gone home. The one complaint has pulled up a chair and refuses to leave.

This curious relationship with criticism is hardly unusual. A presentation goes well, the audience appreciates the effort, but one uncomfortable question becomes the highlight of the evening. A new idea receives encouraging feedback, except for one person who thinks it won't work. Suddenly, the idea seems less exciting. Worse, the mind starts preparing a defence for a conversation that ended hours ago.

Criticism has a remarkable shelf life. The person making the observation may have forgotten it by lunchtime, but the recipient can carry it around for years.

And then there is the critic within. Easily the most persistent member of the team, this one needs no invitation, never misses a performance review and has absolutely no plans of retiring.

A small mistake at work becomes a question about professional competence. An awkward social interaction turns into an assessment of personality. A failed attempt at something new becomes proof that the talent was never there in the first place. Before long, a perfectly ordinary human error has acquired the proportions of a personal crisis.

The trouble often begins with confusing an action with an identity. Getting something wrong becomes being someone who gets things wrong. A disappointing result becomes a disappointing person. The distinction sounds obvious, but the mind has a rather impressive ability to ignore it.

Much of this habit has childhood origins. School report cards, examination results, comparisons with siblings and the occasional teacher who seemed particularly fond of red ink all played their part. Good grades were celebrated, while bad ones often required lengthy explanations at home. Somewhere in the process, performance became tangled with self-worth.

Adulthood brings a fresh set of report cards. Career progression, salaries, promotions, fitness goals, relationships, financial milestones and social approval all become convenient measuring instruments. The pressure to tick every box can be exhausting.

Social media has added another entertaining complication. There is always someone announcing a new business, completing a marathon, buying a house, travelling across continents or posting photographs from a holiday that looks suspiciously like a luxury magazine advertisement. A perfectly decent Tuesday can suddenly feel like a wasted opportunity.

All this is happening against the backdrop of a VUCA world, where volatility, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity have become part of everyday life. Careers change, industries reinvent themselves, technology moves at astonishing speed and yesterday's expertise can require an upgrade tomorrow. Adaptability is expected, certainty is scarce and the pressure to remain relevant is constant.

In this environment, the occasional mistake should be considered a fairly normal occupational hazard of being alive.
Yet there is little patience for getting things wrong. Organisations talk about innovation, experimentation and learning from failure, but individual mistakes can still attract disproportionate attention. The same applies outside the workplace. A bad decision, a failed relationship or an unsuccessful venture can become a label that hangs around long after the circumstances have changed.

Of course, criticism isn't always unwelcome or unfair. Honest feedback can be valuable, especially when it comes from people who have the experience and goodwill to offer it. A difficult observation can reveal a blind spot, improve a piece of work or prevent a repeat mistake. The trick lies in separating useful feedback from unnecessary noise.

Not every opinion deserves a place in the permanent archives. Not every disagreement needs a rebuttal. And not every person expressing disappointment needs to be convinced otherwise.

There is also a difference between being accountable and being unkind to oneself. Taking responsibility for a mistake is sensible. Replaying it for the next six months is unlikely to improve the outcome. A failed presentation might need better preparation next time, not a complete reassessment of professional abilities. A burnt dinner needs a better recipe, not a character analysis.

This is where self-love enters the conversation, although the expression has become so popular that it occasionally sounds like another item on the weekend wellness checklist.

Strip away the hashtags, inspirational quotes and expensive spa packages, and the idea is quite straightforward. Self-love is about allowing room for imperfection without making excuses for it. It is about accepting that mistakes happen, abilities have limits and growth takes time. It is also about recognising that personal worth cannot be calculated using a spreadsheet of achievements and other people's approval.

A useful test is to consider how a close friend would be treated after making the same mistake. Would there be endless reminders of the failure? Would one bad decision become a permanent description of character? Or would there be a little understanding, a sensible conversation and encouragement to move forward?

That same courtesy is often missing from the relationship with the self.

In a world that keeps changing the rules, a healthy sense of self-worth can offer some much-needed grounding. It allows room to learn a new skill without embarrassment, change direction without feeling like a failure and admit to not knowing something without feeling inadequate. Confidence becomes less dependent on applause and more rooted in the ability to handle whatever comes next.

None of this means becoming immune to criticism or walking around convinced of being wonderful at everything. That would be exhausting for everyone involved. It simply means learning to hear criticism without allowing it to occupy every available corner of the mind.

The next time a critical comment threatens to spoil an otherwise good day, a little perspective might help. Was there something useful in it? Is there something worth changing? If so, take the lesson. If not, there is no obligation to give it a room, a wardrobe and a permanent parking space.

Life comes with enough unpredictable characters, unexpected plot twists and occasional disasters. Having an internal critic narrate every episode seems rather unnecessary.

A little less self-judgement, a little more humour and a reasonable amount of self-love might make the whole experience considerably more enjoyable. After all, being a work in progress is perfectly acceptable. There is no need to conduct a performance review every morning.