How do i handle criticism without spiraling into anxiety?

I was scrolling through Slack on a random Tuesday when a short message popped up from my manager:

“Hey, the deck felt scattered. Let’s tighten the story.”

My stomach did that drop-tower thing. Palms sweating, ears ringing - classic “panic about to launch” signals. Five minutes later I had rewritten my entire life plan, quit the job in my head and imagined a future selling keyrings on Etsy. All because of one mild bit of feedback.

If that sounds familiar, keep reading. I’ve spent years figuring out how to keep criticism from hijacking my nervous system. Here’s the stuff that actually helps.

pause, breathe, label

First instinct is to type back an apology manifesto or disappear under a duvet. Instead, I now hit the literal pause button: I exhale, roll my shoulders, do one slow 4-7-8 breath. Total time: maybe 20 seconds, but it buys my brain a hint of oxygen and stops the cortisol flood from peaking.

Right after the breath I name what’s happening: “I’m anxious, not in danger.” This tiny label switches the experience from “I am the anxiety” to “I notice anxiety.” Sounds woo, but it gives me just enough distance to keep the spiral from spinning.

check the story you’re telling yourself

Feedback lands on us, then our mind starts fan-fiction. Mine usually goes: “Deck is scattered → I’m incompetent → I get fired → Goodbye health insurance.” That chain feels automatic, yet it’s basically a conspiracy theory.

I grab a notebook (or Notes app if I’m on a bus) and split a page:

• What was actually said?
• What am I assuming?

  Then I interrogate the assumptions like a curious friend:

– Evidence this is true?

– Evidence it isn’t?

– What would I say to a buddy stuck in this thought?

Nine times out of ten the story melts. I’m left with a far less dramatic script: “Deck needs clearer flow.” Cool, that’s a problem I can fix, not a prophecy about my worth as a human.

respond, don’t react

Once the story is trimmed down, I decide how to reply. My rule: no instant essay-length DM. I give myself a window - sometimes an hour, sometimes overnight - before sending anything.

When I do answer, the template is short and neutral:

“Thanks for the feedback. I see the issue with XYZ. I’ll tweak the flow and send an update by tomorrow.”

Notice there’s no self-flagellation or defensive TED talk. Just acknowledgment, a plan, and a deadline. It signals I’m on it without turning the convo into my personal therapy session.

turn feedback into tiny experiments

Big vague goals (“I’ll become better at presenting”) are anxiety magnets. I translate criticism into micro-quests:

• “One-sentence purpose at top of every slide.”

• “Practice out loud once before hitting share.”
• “Ask a teammate for a 2-minute gut check.”

  Each experiment is small enough that failure won’t torch my self-esteem, but visible enough to track progress. When something works, I screenshot the praise or jot a quick win list. A private highlight reel beats imposter syndrome at 2 a.m.

  wrapping up

  Criticism isn’t a moral verdict, it’s data. Yeah, sometimes the delivery is messy, and sometimes people are jerks. Still, the moment we pause, breathe, and label, the anxiety train slows. Question the doom narrative, choose a measured response, and break the fix into snack-sized experiments.

  The next time Slack pings with “Let’s tighten the story,” you might still feel that gut plunge - bodies gonna body - but you’ll also have a playbook. And over time, that playbook becomes muscle memory. Less spiraling, more growing. Low-key magical.