My Soft Shell Season
Meeting protectors, befriending inner critics, and making space to grow.
Last week we headed out to the shore on a family camping trip. We stayed at a beautiful state park that protects a few precious miles of undeveloped coastline. One afternoon, walking along the beach, I picked up a tiny crab shell that had washed up on the sand. Then I noticed another. And another. They were everywhere.
Crabs molt as they mature, shedding their shells dozens of times in their life cycle. The crab that shed this simply got too big for its shell, so it slipped out of it and grew a bigger one.
Back at the campsite that evening, I studied the shell a bit more, and that got me thinking about my own protective layer, one that’s felt way too small for way too long.
My protective parts have felt particularly confining lately as I navigate a midlife career change. Too often over the past couple of years I’ve felt stuck and ashamed of how long it’s taken me to get moving. I’d build momentum, then pull back. Procrastinate. Numb out. Spiral into distraction or doubt. I’d give attention to the wrong things and abandon the efforts that other parts of me knew would actually make a difference. I’d stay small. It felt like I was going backwards.
I’d hear my inner critics say:
—“You’re not cut out for this.”
—“You don’t have what it takes.”
—“You’re not enough.”
I’ve been calling this pattern “self-sabotage,” but that’s not true—or particularly kind. It’s a part. A protector. And has been performing a valuable service to me and my system.
But what if it didn’t have to work so hard? What if there were another way?
When a crab molts, it seeks refuge to begin the process of shedding its shell and forming a new one. Its body is soft, exposed, and incredibly vulnerable during this time. It hides for a few days while its new shell hardens. That stillness isn’t regression, it’s wisdom.
What if my pattern of stalling and numbing isn’t failure, but my own soft-shell season? What if it’s not brokenness, but the soft, messy middle of expansion?
Crustaceans instinctively know when it’s time to let go of what no longer fits. But we humans tend to stay cooped up in shells we’ve long outgrown. They’re familiar, but ultimately limit our potential. They can also cause suffering.
The crab metaphor may not be perfect: We don’t actually shed our protective parts—we heal them of their burdens so they can take on other roles in our systems.
As for that voice calling me a failure…it’s an inner critic. It’s not mean. It’s scared. Critics are protector parts. Their job is to shield us from failure, judgment, or shame, even if it means keeping us small. Like the crab shell I found, protectors are often formed when we’re young.
Critics heal in relationship. They begin to soften when they finally feel seen, respected, and understood—the Self-to-Part relationship.
Last week our guest on The One Inside, Britt Frank, said something that keeps echoing for me: Your inner critic can become your best coach.
I’m still learning how to be in relationship with mine. It doesn’t yet feel like a coach, but I’m listening to its concerns without collapsing under them. I can invite it into collaboration instead of letting it run the show. That feels like growth.
If you’ve been numbing, procrastinating, or pulling back, if it feels like you’re falling apart, you might be molting.
P.S. Check out the episode with Britt Frank. She talks about what keeps us stuck, how to work with the parts that keep us spinning, and why chaos is often a sign of deep internal wisdom.
Are you in a soft-shell season of your own? I’d love to hear in the comments.
📅 Tammy will be hosting June’s live meetup for Substack paid subscribers next Thursday, June 19 at 7pm EST. The topic is IFS and the Enneagram. Replay available.