Why Do I Get So Defensive When Someone Criticizes Me?

Two women talking together at an outdoor café in Austin, Texas.

I don't know that defensiveness always shows up where you'd expect it to.

You might actually be pretty good at receiving real feedback. Your partner tells you something you've been doing is hurting them and, even if it sucks to hear, you listen. A friend tells you that you let her down and you want to understand. You can apologize. You can take responsibility. You can work on something.

But then someone makes one relatively harmless comment about the way you handled something and your hackles are immediately up.

Well, no, because here's why I did it that way.

And now you're defending a decision you weren't even thinking about thirty seconds ago.

Maybe you're telling your partner about something frustrating that happened at work. You explain how you handled it and they say, “Huh. I probably wouldn't have said anything.”

That's it. They haven't called you unreasonable. They may not even be criticizing you.

But you're already explaining why this situation was different and why saying something actually was necessary. Now they're telling you they weren't criticizing you, you're saying you know that, and somehow you're both irritated.

Or your mom makes a comment about something you're doing with your kid. “Oh, I always just did it this way.”

You know she isn't raising your child. You know you don't need her approval. You may even know she wasn't trying to criticize you.

Still: Okay, but that's not what we're doing, and here's why.

Or a friend has a completely different take on something that's bothering you. She thinks you're overthinking it. You think she's missing a pretty important part of the situation. Suddenly you're working really hard to get her to understand why your interpretation makes sense.

These aren't major criticisms. That's almost what makes the reaction so confusing.

What are you actually defending?

This is the question I find more interesting than Why am I so defensive?

Because you might not actually be defending the decision.

You might be defending what you think that decision says about you.

That you're competent. Thoughtful. A good mother. A good partner. Not dramatic. Not selfish. Not careless. That you had a reason for doing what you did and didn't just wander blindly into a decision without thinking about it.

Which might also explain why bigger criticism can occasionally be easier to hear.

If your partner comes to you and says, “Hey, this thing keeps happening between us and it's really hurting me,” you know what conversation you're having. There's something to understand. You can listen, decide what belongs to you, apologize if you need to, and hopefully repair.

You might people-please the hell out of that conversation, but at least the assignment is clear.

The random comment is different.

Nobody has asked you to repair anything. There's no actual problem to solve. There's just this uncomfortable possibility that someone thinks you handled something wrong.

And now you want to correct the record.

Being misunderstood can be incredibly hard to leave alone

If you've spent a lot of your life being conscientious, responsible, competent, or tuned into other people, being seen inaccurately can feel almost physically irritating.

No, that's not what happened.

That's not what I meant.

You're missing part of the story.

And listen, maybe they are missing part of the story.

I don't think every urge to defend yourself means you've uncovered a trauma response and should immediately start deep breathing. People misunderstand each other. People project. People have opinions about things they don't fully understand. You're allowed to correct them.

But there's a difference between wanting someone to understand you and feeling like you cannot settle until they do.

That's the part I'm interested in.

Because if someone else's interpretation of you carries a lot of weight, you can spend an incredible amount of energy managing how you're perceived. You explain why you made the choice. Add context nobody asked for. Make sure they know your intentions were good. Keep talking because you're waiting for that moment when they finally say, Ohhh. Okay. Now I get it.

And what happens when they don't?

For some of us, this started long before adulthood. Maybe being good, responsible, easy, competent, or mature mattered in your family. Maybe being misunderstood led to criticism or conflict. Maybe other people's version of events tended to carry more weight than yours.

You don't necessarily walk around consciously thinking about any of that now.

Your body may just recognize someone thinks I'm wrong and move very quickly toward I need to explain.

What happens before you start explaining?

This is one of the places where somatic therapy gets interesting to me.

I already know your explanation probably makes sense. I'm curious about what happened five seconds before you started giving it.

Did your chest tighten? Did you get hot? Did you feel that little surge of Nope before you even knew what you were going to say? Did you suddenly feel angry? Did your words start coming faster?

That's useful information.

The goal isn't to get rid of that response or become a person who calmly accepts everyone else's opinions about you. I have zero interest in helping women become more pleasant recipients of criticism.

I want to know whether you actually disagree—or whether something in you suddenly feels compelled to prove that you're reasonable, good, competent, or worthy of being understood.

Those are different things.

And being able to notice the difference gives you choices.

Maybe you explain yourself because the person really does have you wrong.

Maybe there's something in what they're saying that you want to hear.

Maybe you realize this conversation isn't actually important enough to spend another twenty minutes defending yourself.

Or maybe you land on the much harder question:

Can they think that about me without me fixing it?

You don't have to enjoy being misunderstood. Most of us don't.

But you can become less dependent on getting everyone else to see you correctly before you trust your own experience.

And honestly, that's a kind of confidence I'm much more interested in than learning how to never get defensive.

If you're looking for somatic therapy in Austin and recognize yourself in the defensiveness, overexplaining, people-pleasing, or intense need to be understood, this is the kind of work I do.

I'm Toni Richter, LCSW, a somatic therapist working with women in Austin around attachment, relational trauma, perfectionism, relationships, and the ways we've learned to protect ourselves while staying connected to other people. I offer in-person therapy in Austin, Texas, as well as online therapy throughout Texas.

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Why Do I Feel Responsible for Everyone Else’s Feelings?