Inner Critic Skiing: Why Am I So Hard on Myself When I Ski?
- Sarah Gilbertson
- Apr 7
- 8 min read
Updated: 7 days ago
Inner critic skiing is the name I’m giving to that harsh voice that follows you onto the mountain. The one that comments on your speed, your body, your age, your nerve, your technique, and whether you are holding everyone up. It can sound horribly convincing, especially when skiing already makes you feel exposed.
My internal voice on skis can be brutal. It comments on my ability, my technique, whether I can keep up with the group, what I am wearing, even how many loo breaks I need.
The difficult thing is that it doesn't always sound unkind. It sounds reasonable. It sounds like information. That is what makes it so hard to challenge.
It sounds like:
“Why did I even book this trip?”
“Am I too old to ski now?”
“I used to be able to ski this without even thinking about it.”
“Everyone else seems fine, so what's wrong with me?”
“When I've done this run, I'll just go back to the apartment.”
Not all of those thoughts are about skiing.
Some are about self worth.
If you have ever stood at the top of a run talking to yourself in a way you would never speak to another woman, you're not alone. The inner critic that follows you onto the mountain isn't a character flaw. And it isn't something you can always think your way out of.
Skiing has a particular way of finding the places where we feel exposed. Speed. Visibility. Group pressure. Comparison. Ageing. Injury history. The body not responding quite how it used to.
No wonder the voice gets loud.
Inner critic skiing and the voice that follows you onto the mountain
In Internal Family Systems therapy, developed by Richard Schwartz, the inner critic is described as a part of you with a specific function rather than the enemy. It developed at some point in your life to protect you, usually from shame, rejection, failure or exposure. It learned that if it got there first with the criticism, the outside world would have less ammunition.
The problem is that the part doing the protecting is often using strategies that made sense much earlier in life, but are considerably less useful when you’re standing at the top of a run at forty-five.
This matters on skis because skiing is one of the most effective environments there is for activating those older, protective parts. The combination of physical vulnerability, visible performance, social comparison and actual risk means that whatever your inner critic learned to do, it’ll probably do it here.
And because the critic often sounds sensible, it can be hard to spot. It may sound like useful caution. It may sound like not wanting to hold people up. It may sound like being realistic about age, fitness, technique or conditions. But sometimes what sounds like information is actually old protection dressed up as fact.
That’s the distinction worth making. Not “is this voice good or bad?” but “is this helping me make a choice, or is it already choosing for me?”
Why does the voice get louder on snow?
The short answer is pressure, but not pressure in the motivational sense. This is pressure in the body. A steep pitch, icy conditions, a fast group, a narrow track, someone waiting behind you, or the feeling that you’re the least confident skier there can all put your system on alert. Once that happens, your options tend to shrink.
You stop taking in the full picture. You forget that you might be tired, cold, hungry, hormonal, rusty after time away, or skiing in harder conditions than you realised. You forget that skiing in midlife is not the same as skiing at twenty five, and that menopause, injury history, sleep, recovery and confidence can all affect how safe you feel on snow.
Instead, the voice becomes binary. You’re either fine or you’re failing. You’re either keeping up or holding everyone back. You’re either brave enough or you shouldn’t be there.
That’s not accurate feedback. That’s pressure talking.
And pressure has a habit of making old stories sound current.
This is why ski confidence isn't just about thinking better thoughts. When your body already feels under pressure, negative self talk can feel like fact. It sounds like information. But often, it’s the same old protection trying to run the day.
Where did the skiing inner critic start?
For most people, the voice didn't start on snow. It often has roots in earlier experiences of being evaluated, corrected, compared or shamed in physical settings. School sport. Dance classes. Swimming galas. Being laughed at. Being left behind. The look on a parent’s face when you came second.
Your nervous system learns early. It notices when performance affects approval, belonging or safety. And if being capable helped you feel safer, the critic may have learned to keep you capable by being harsh.
What gets wired in early can come back when conditions feel similar. Skiing in a group, being watched, receiving instruction, falling in front of people, or being asked to do something at the edge of your current ability can all activate an older pattern. And with it, an older voice.
Perfectionism often calls itself high standards. But on skis, it can become shame dressed up as standards. The point is not always to ski better. Sometimes the deeper drive is to avoid the feeling that comes when you fall short of an imagined ideal. That distinction matters, because telling yourself to try harder rarely softens perfectionism. It usually feeds it.
Perfectionism is not high standards. It is shame-based thinking dressed up as standards
Are you comparing yourself to the twenty-five year old version of yourself?
This is one of the most common and least acknowledged sources of self criticism in midlife skiing.
You are not only comparing yourself with other people. You may also be comparing yourself with an old version of yourself.
The version who skied all day on poor sleep. The version who didn’t think about knees, hips, hormones, tiredness, fear, visibility, recovery time or whether the group was too fast.
But you are not skiing with the same body, the same life load, or the same nervous system.
Through perimenopause and menopause, many women notice changes in sleep, recovery, confidence, balance, coordination, strength, reaction time and how quickly their body feels overwhelmed. Not everyone experiences these changes in the same way, but if skiing feels different now, it is worth taking seriously rather than dismissing it as weakness.
If you are measuring your current skiing against a memory of yourself at twenty five, that isn’t a fair comparison. And it isn’t a useful one.
The inner critic will often use the past as evidence that something is wrong with you now.
But the better question is not, “Why can’t I ski like I used to?”
The better question is, “What would help me ski well with the body and life I have now?”
That isn't a fair comparison, nor is it a meaningful comparison
Why skiing in a group can make self criticism worse
Human beings are social animals with a very old need to belong to the group. In evolutionary terms, exclusion from the group was genuinely dangerous. The nervous system can still treat it as such.
When you ski in a group, part of you may be monitoring more than the slope.
Are you keeping up?
Are you slowing people down?
Are you the one being waited for at the bottom?
Are you the weakest skier here, and if so, what does that mean?
This social monitoring can run quietly in the background, even when you are experienced, capable and technically safe.
That is why the critic often gets louder in company than it does when you are skiing alone. It is not only assessing the run. It is assessing your place in the group.
What makes this particularly painful is that harsh self talk doesn't usually help. A body that already feels under pressure doesn't calm down because it receives more criticism. It tends to tighten further. Breath gets shallow. Focus narrows. Movement becomes less fluid. The very voice trying to prevent shame can create the conditions that make skiing harder.
Is the inner critic actually keeping you safe?
Sometimes, yes.
If your inner critic tells you that a particular run is beyond your technical ability today, that isn't necessarily distortion. Caution in skiing has a function. It may be assessing real risk.
The problem starts when caution tips into shame.
When it moves from “This is risky” to “You are pathetic for finding this risky”, it's crossed a line.
Learning to tell the difference matters. One gives you information. The other gives you a verdict on your worth as a person.
They are not the same thing, and they don't deserve the same response.
Is it information or a verdict?
This is one of the most useful distinctions you can make on the mountain.
Information sounds like:
“This run is icy. I need to slow down.”
“I am tired and my legs are not responding well.”
“This group is moving faster than I want today.”
“I need a quieter first run.”
“I am cold and hungry, and this is affecting my judgement.”
A verdict sounds like:
“I am pathetic for finding this hard.”
“I am ruining everyone’s day.”
“I used to be better than this. What is wrong with me?”
“Everyone else is fine, so I should be fine too.”
“I shouldn’t have come.”
Information helps you make a choice.
A verdict turns fear into shame.
Once you know which one you are hearing, you can respond differently.
What should you do when the inner critic starts on the mountain?
The first step is recognition. You don’t have to argue with the critic at the top of the run. In fact, that often makes it louder.
Start by naming it.
“This is the critic. It’s loud because part of me is feeling exposed in this situation.”
Then ask whether it’s giving you information or a verdict.
If it’s information, use it. Slow down. Choose a different route. Ask for a pause. Let the group go ahead. Take an easier first run. Stop before tiredness turns into poor judgement.
If it’s a verdict, don’t treat it as truth.
Bring your attention back to the body. Feel your shins in your boots. Exhale fully. Look around. Notice the snow, the space, the edges of the piste. Give your nervous system evidence that you’re here, now, not back in an old story.
This isn’t about suppressing the critic. It’s about interrupting the moment where it gets to choose for you.
Progress here is usually slow and non linear. You may not notice it until you’re halfway down a run and realise the voice has gone quieter.
That’s enough.
You’re not trying to become a fearless skier. You’re trying to become a skier with more choice.
Understanding the inner critic isn't the same as agreeing with it
The inner critic didn’t arrive on the mountain by accident. It’s probably been doing a job for a long time, in a different context, with old information.
Understanding that isn’t the same as agreeing with it. But it can be the beginning of enjoying your skiing again, being more present, and finding that sense of yippee without forcing yourself past what your body is trying to say.
You don’t have to silence the critic before you ski. You need to notice when it’s started choosing for you.
If this is the pattern that keeps showing up on ski holidays, start with my free email, 3 Insights Your Nervous System Wants You to Know on Snow.
It’ll help you understand what your body may be telling you before you ski a single turn, so you can stop pushing through the tidy version and start making choices that actually support you on snow.
Not skiing small. Not skiing scared. Skiing how you want to.
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About Sarah
Sarah Gilbertson is a Therapeutic Coach, BASI qualified ski instructor, and founder of FlourishWell Coaching.
She specialises in Nervous System Literacy for women who love skiing but find it feels different now. Her work helps them understand what’s changed in the body, the nervous system and the group dynamic, so they can work with it rather than pushing through.
With over eight years working across European resorts, Sarah understands how group dynamics, pressure, fear and life transitions shape people’s experience on snow.
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