Mental Health in Veterinary Medicine Part Three: Cultivating Self-Compassion with Dr. Jen Brandt

This is the second episode in a three-part series on mental health in veterinary medicine from the Tails from the Lab podcast, hosted by Brad Ryan (MSC, DVM, MPH), Senior Professional Services Veterinarian at Antech, in conversation with Jen Brandt (LISW-S, PhD), Director of Member Wellbeing Initiatives at the AVMA.

In this episode, Drs. Brad and Jen talk about cultivating compassion in your relationship with yourself and why it’s so important for veterinary professionals to be kind to themselves.

Dr. Brad Ryan: In our first segment, we talked about the integral role of boundary setting as it pertains to mental health. Today, we’re discussing self-compassion.

One thing I’ve learned in attending your lectures in recent years, Dr. Brandt, is that I didn’t truly understand what “self-compassion” means. I thought it meant attending a yoga class or simply telling myself I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and, doggone it, people like me. But obviously that’s not it exactly. So, let’s start there. What is self-compassion?

Docteur Jen : Self-compassion is treating yourself with the same kindness, fairness, and gentleness you’d offer someone you love. It’s being decent to yourself—without tearing yourself down or using harmful language toward yourself.
It also includes remembering we’re human. We’re doing the best we can with the knowledge, support, and capacity we have available at a given point in time.

Dr Brad : How does self-compassion differ from self-indulgence or performance-based self-esteem? What do those look like and why is it important to know the difference?

Docteur Jen : Self-compassion is the relationship I have with myself on the inside—especially when I’m disappointed or I mess up. It sounds like: “That was hard. I did the best I could with what I knew then. What can I learn from this?”
Self-indulgence is more like, “I want what I want when I want, regardless of how it may impact others and even when it’s not in my long-term best interest.”
And self-esteem is often performance-based: “If I do well and get rewarded or acknowledged by others, then I can feel worthy.”

The problem is—life is messy, outcomes aren’t always in our control, and having our sense of self-worth dependent on others makes it very fragile. I often hear people in our profession say, “If I’m not hard on myself, I’ll get lazy or I won’t perform well.” And I’m always curious where that belief came from—because it’s a learned belief, not an innate one. The good news is that what has been learned can be unlearned and replaced with something that helps more than it harms.

Here’s one exercise that can make the difference really clear:
Look at an empty chair (or even a spot on the wall) and imagine in that space someone you truly care about—someone you feel protective of. Now imagine speaking to them the way you tend to speak to yourself on a rough day. Most people immediately feel resistance: “I would never speak to them that way.”

That moment is powerful, because it highlights the gap between the compassion we offer others and the way we treat ourselves. The goal isn’t to force fake positivity—it’s to notice the harsh habit, and practice a more supportive, realistic alternative. Something as simple as: “I’m a human being. I’m trying. I can learn from this.”

Dr Brad : You’re so right. Veterinary medicine is a profession that demands compassion. We are often walking into an exam room and dealing with people who are in very vulnerable states. We offer compassion up and we are able to give that to the client, and then maybe 30 minutes later, we are being completely vicious in our internal dialogue with ourselves about any number of things that might be happening that day. Why is this so common in veterinary medicine, or do you think it’s common for us not to be able to take that compassion that we’re giving outwardly and turn it back around and allow that to flood our own being?

Docteur Jen : I think it’s common in caregiving professions—and especially in work cultures that reward self-sacrifice, emotional “toughness,” and pushing through no matter what. It’s also very common among people with a perfectionistic mindset.

And then there’s early modeling. A child might be taught, “Be kind to others,” and genuinely absorb that as a value. But if they repeatedly see a parent being cruel to themself—calling themself stupid, judging their body, shaming their own mistakes—the child learns something else too: compassion is for other people, not for you. Over time, the modeled behavior is often what sticks.

Dr Brad : In your lectures on this topic, you often mention Dr. Kristin Neff, PhD, who runs a self-compassion research lab. She developed an empirically supported training program called Mindful Self-Compassion and co-founded the nonprofit Center for Mindful Self-Compassion.

Dr. Neff says that self-compassion has three elements. The first is self-kindness, which is what we’ve been focused on here. Next is common humanity — recognizing that feelings of self-inadequacy are part of being human and not a uniquely individual phenomenon. That acknowledgement can help cultivate self-compassion.
And the third is mindfulness, not over identifying with the negative thought that’s happening — I am not the thought that I’m having about myself, I am separate from my thoughts. And that’s a lot trickier, isn’t it, for some people?

Docteur Jen : Absolutely—and there’s a lot of complexity underneath harsh self-talk. For one, humans have a negativity bias. Our brains are built to scan for what’s wrong, what’s risky, what could go badly—because that’s how we survived.

Early development can add another layer. When we’re young, we naturally make meaning in very self-focused ways. If something goes wrong, a child’s brain often concludes, “It must be my fault.” Over time, those beliefs can become a habit: “I’m not enough. I’m not lovable. I’m not safe unless I’m perfect.”
A lot of people try to manage fear or discomfort through control: “If I’m hard enough on myself, I can prevent bad things from happening.” The inner critic may start as a protection strategy, becoming increasingly harmful over time. And for many people, it’s so automatic they don’t even realize it’s happening.

Dr. Brad: And yet we know, intuitively, that we want to show up to work and be the absolute best version of ourselves — the best veterinarians — that we can be. A lot of that is having the knowledge base, of course, but then there’s this whole other element of how we take care of ourselves so that we can actually show up for other people and not be a hot mess of a person (as I like to refer to myself sometimes).
I think it’s important for those of us in this profession to understand that the cultivation of self-compassion actually makes you a better veterinarian. Can you expand on that in terms of what we know about decision-making under stress and making sure that we don’t burn out or completely self-destruct?

Docteur Jen : I sometimes call it being a “hot buttered mess,” so I get it! And yes—self-compassion supports better performance, not worse. A lot of us define “being the best” as a checklist: no mistakes, perfect outcomes, always having clients satisfied, always having the right answer. But so much of that is outside our control—medicine is complex, clients are human, systems have limitations.

What we don’t hear as often is: “Being the best includes how I treat myself under pressure.” Because when I’m stuck in an all-or-nothing mindset—it’s all good or it’s all bad—my nervous system is more activated, my thinking gets narrower, and my decision-making gets more rigid.

Self-compassion helps us come back to a balanced perspective: “This is hard, and I can stay present. I can think clearly. I can learn.” That balance supports better judgment, better communication, and better recovery after a hard case.

And there’s also a ripple effect. In teams and training environments, we often have values like “learning from mistakes” or “we support each other.” But if what’s modeled in the day-to-day is blame, shame, or harsh self-criticism, people absorb that. Self-compassion isn’t just personal—it can shape culture. When you practice it, you’re more likely to model curiosity, honesty, and accountability without humiliation—and that strengthens trust and psychological safety.

Dr Brad : We spoke about this in our first segment on Boundary Setting, but it feels like now is a good time to move on to catastrophizing. Catastrophizing is interrelated with perfectionism in my mind, because if the bar I’ve set is that I can never make the tiniest little mistake, then when I inevitably do, it feeds into the self-talk too, right? Then it’s this idea that I made this mistake, therefore I am [fill in the blank with something terrible].

Docteur Jen : Exactly. And when you say the word catastrophizing, most people immediately recognize it. We’ve likely all experienced some version of:
“If I make this mistake, people will laugh at me. I’ll fail out of school or lose my job. I’ll never get another job. I’ll lose my friends. I’ll end up on the streets and die alone.”
When we hear that stream of consciousness out loud, it sounds extreme—but it’s a very real pattern the brain can develop in an effort to keep us safe and prevent negative outcomes.

The problem is that catastrophizing narrows our options. It pushes us into threat mode—where we fixate on what could go wrong and ignore important tools like self-compassion, vulnerability, asking for support, and reality-checking the story our brain is spinning.

Dr Brad : And of course, all the things that we’ve been discussing are usually reinforced by at least what has been in the past, the cultural norms around a lot of this. And so by doing this work at the individual level and, hopefully, at the team level, we might actually get there as a profession.

Docteur Jen : Some of the most powerful moments I’ve seen in veterinary medicine have been when an esteemed professional openly acknowledges their humanity. When these real life stories are shared, you can hear a pin drop.
I remember an orientation once where a college leader introduced herself and shared two personal facts: she loved chickens—and she didn’t pass her boards the first time. You could almost feel the tension release from the room. Afterward, students kept saying, “Wait… you can still be successful if you’re not perfect the first time?” There was an overwhelming sense of relief, hope, and connection formed in that moment.

The same thing happens when speakers talk honestly about a medical error they made and what they learned. They still have a career. They still love the work. They’ve gone on to teach countless others how to avoid that same mistake in the future. In a culture of shame and blame, we tend not to hear those stories in that light. But when we do hear them, it makes the “expert” feel more human—and it gives everyone else permission to keep learning. I think we need more space for that, because it changes what people believe is possible.

Dr Brad : Absolutely. I’m 44 years old now. The beauty of life is in all the messiness, the resilience that is being built over time because of these things that came before us. The shared humanity is something that we all have, the vulnerability of just saying, “Yes I’m not perfect, these are the things that didn’t go as I had hoped in the past and here I am standing tall, living my dream.” And there’s the beauty of life from my point of view.

Docteur Jen : Oh my gosh—same! I love sharing my mistakes, often with some humor woven in. Because with time and distance, you discover what was so profoundly human and relatable to what you experienced. In the moment it’s not funny, but later? Sometimes it really is.
I’ve been in conversations where instead of trying to one-up each other with achievements, people share their “best mistakes.” Like, “Oh, I’ve got a doozy for you…” And the room fills with laughter—and relief. That relief matters, because it reminds you: you’re not alone. Being human is part of this. And it’s in those types of moments I feel most connected to others, and more a part of this thing called life. 

Dr Brad : Absolutely. I’d like to reflect on how, when we get to a place of self-compassion individually, the ways in which we flourish as a result. Once again, this is a lifelong process, it’s not like we can check five boxes and suddenly we’re self-compassionate people, right? Usually it’s two steps forward, one step back, hopefully, but when the net effect is moving forward on that trajectory, what are the outcomes?

Docteur Jen : First, I love that you named it a process—because it is. It’s not something you “achieve” and then never struggle with again.
Over time, self-compassion can reduce perfectionistic thinking and soften that harsh inner critic. And when those layers ease up, you get more access to curiosity, vulnerability, and actually listening—to yourself and to other people.

It also supports better decision-making under pressure. When the main focus is “I can’t make a mistake,” we often get more activated—and ironically, more likely to miss something. When the focus becomes, “I’m going to do my best, and if something goes wrong, I can respond, learn, and get support,” it reduces panic and increases clarity. And yes—quality of life improves, at work and at home.

On the team side, self-compassion supports psychological safety and trust. When people aren’t terrified of being shamed, judged, and punished, they’re more willing to speak up, ask questions, and learn.Dr Brad :Thank you, Dr. Brandt for joining me in this discussion.