My Experiences With Inner Child Healing.

I’ve often shared my journey of life through my writings. Well aware of the fact that it is in the public domain, I will have potential clients who would read about my psychotherapeutic clinical approach, and also my ability to be resilient, my strengths and the lens with which I view the world. And they will also get a glimpse of my vulnerabilities, my grief, the pain and anguish I have gone through, only to rise yet again. I am proud of my battle scars. And if I wouldn’t have had them, my perspective on life may not have been this rich, this deep, or this expansive. I feel it makes me more empathetic, more compassionate, and more connected to the people I work with. And in case I experience any obstacle in establishing an effective therapeutic relationship with a client, I attempt to resolve those as well. People should know who they are trusting their inner lives with, and choose whether they want to work with me or not.  

And so, I thought I would share some glimpses of the journey of inner child healing that I delved into, a concept that therapists may touch upon briefly when they work with someone but when I went into it in depth, it opened up a whole new world that was waiting to be discovered.

Have you, as an adult, ever wondered when you react to situations impulsively? Why we fear rejection, or abandonment, or why we react to certain people as if they remind us of someone from our past? Why am I so clingy, so quick to tears, so sensitive to criticism or the slightest feedback which may be constructive even? Why do I feel less than others when I have everything in life that should make me happy? Why do I react with so much anger and irritability to people who remind me of my mother/father who I had a dysfunctional relationship with? Why do I blame everyone on the outside for my misery? Why do I clam up and shut down when I am faced with a specific situation that I always find overwhelming? Why do thoughts of “I am not good enough?” “I am not worthy enough?” keep popping up and making me doubt myself all the more? The list of such reactions can be endless but you get the drift.

You may be a high functioning adult who is working and is successful, has a family, friends, and is able to cope with most of life’s stressors. But some situations may be sticky, where you react impulsively, which others or you even may think, “This was so childish of me,” and you are perplexed or you find it difficult to understand what makes you react that way, and the cycle perpetuates. Only to flare up again, and again, and again, leaving you more confused, frustrated at times, and even people around you wonder, “what the hell gets into you every time?”

When we are children we develop ways in which we interpret our worlds and the people in them. Our first socializing agents often are our parents and siblings, and then of course teachers and friends. We have rudimentary needs, for safety, belongingness, comfort, love, food, clothing, shelter, appreciation, and we are figuring out ways in which those needs get met, and when they don’t get met, or we undergo a significant trauma in our family of origin, we react in ways which we as children know best. We don’t have the psychological resources to often cope very functionally as we now know, so those reactions could look like shutting down or withdrawing emotionally, blaming, being super quiet, crying, becoming anxious and tense, changing ourselves to please others, being clingy, brooding, being moody, acting out, giving too much or too little of ourselves to safeguard ourselves, manipulating others, giving our power away, lying, playing victim for attention, feeling inferior, feeling unworthy, suppressing emotions which end up showing up as anxiety or depression, and so much more.

Think back to some of these tools you may be using even now as an adult, and reflect on when you started using it first. Did it show up in your years till you turned 20-21? If yes, then your wounded part is still showing up all these years later, waiting to be acknowledged and heard, and eventually healed.

I always thought (outside of donning my psychologist’s hat), “This is how I am, and can’t really change now.” A part of me would wonder why I was like this? We attribute our behaviors to our “personalities,” but then I am talking about behaviors, covert and overt thoughts, feelings, which translate into how we are interacting with our world when under stress or in reaction to triggering situations.

For instance, I would shut down, withdraw, and then bury my head under the sand and hide when I was overwhelmed or distressed. I thought I was doing it to process what I was going through, that it was an attribute of me being resilient, and in a way it was. I would take a few days to find my emotional balance, and then be able to work through the situations. Sometimes it would take weeks, and I realized in the last three years it went into months, after my mother’s passing. And then I realized it was costing me my relationships with friends and even in my relationship with myself. I was growing more disconnected with my own authentic self, and would focus on taking care of others, getting into fixing mode. I didn’t like reacting this way but I didn’t know how to go about changing my patterns. Or why I was this way. Till I decided to dig deep, and what a storehouse of knowledge and realizations emerged, as I went about tracing the history and antecedents of some beliefs, behaviors and reactions.

Inner child work is a bid to reconnect with that unhealed, wounded part of us that remained frozen and suppressed, but kept resurfacing and showing up as dramatic reactions to similar situations that once hurt us, which we may not be aware of, till we shine a torch within, and see what exactly is brewing there.

Think of it this way: we have an argument or a fight with a loved one, which causes us deep anguish. And we reach out to them to talk, resolve, and reach a deeper understanding of how to interact in triggering situations. When we have meaningful, deep conversations, coming from a space of love and healing, there is an easing of the pain, and connecting in a plane that neither of us previously experienced.

The rejoining and forming a heartfelt connection with the lost inner child involves a discovery, a voice within that we never gave ourselves an opportunity to hear before, and which holds the key to the chest that has our unhealed emotional pain. It’s when we get into deep insight oriented inquiry, and get some answers, do we notice a softening and a revelation of our core wounding, that shows up in insidious ways as an adult. There is so much wisdom and healing within us, but we keep seeking comfort and answers outside. And no individual can provide those answers, as much as our own compassionate self-inquiry often supported by facilitation or guidance, patient listening, finding our own answers, realignment of our beliefs, letting go of assumptions, and forgiveness of self and others can.

What did this journey do to me, you may wonder. I started using more functional coping systems such as clear, authentic communication, expressing feelings and needs fearlessly, establishing more effective boundaries with people and ensuring I didn’t get affected by the resistance or the non-compliance with it. There was more self-compassion, centering and grounding myself when emotionally distressed, and reconnecting with loved ones; I let go of self-flagellating beliefs I held onto, and trusted and acted on what my authentic self wanted, rather than what would make me  better liked, or not be judged by. It was liberating, to finally not live in pain and anxiety at a personal level; to live freely and authentically. I started living in the here and now more, started savoring the daily moments more, that had gotten buried under the emotional baggage I was carrying. I prioritized my self-care and stayed with it, I didn’t just focus on fixing people but being with them too, the way they would have liked me to be. And I am still discovering the joy that the healing is continuing to bring as a ripple effect. It trickles down to work and relationships as well, often transforming codependent ones to healthier, wholesome ones.

Some obvious resistances that may come up to inner child work is the fear of the muck that may rise to the surface and finding ourselves unable to cope, and several other reasons that are beyond the scope of this post. But if we can learn to trust the process and not fall prey to our fears, if we can make space for all the thoughts, feelings, and reactions that rise, to focus on authentic healing rather than suppressing, avoiding, and running away from what influenced us when we were a child, we will truly experience meaningful happiness, resilience and freedom. We will not be buffeted under the weight of our own demons when we have healed inside out. Because when we close the loop, we truly, genuinely open up new possibilities that can uplift us to a new plane. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful place to find ourselves in?

Just. Show. Up.

“I’m to blame as well,” I thought, as I realized how the lack of interconnectedness within us, as members of a commune, of social and personal networks, is causing such a strong sense of isolation, loneliness, dissatisfaction, which is further resulting in the rise in mental health problems. But yet we don’t want to talk about the sadness we feel, the frustration and unhappiness that gnaws at us everyday, questioning the purpose of our existence, feeling anxious and worried of how the future will be; will I continue to feel as desolate, fragmented, and numb as I feel now? We scroll through social media and feel a pang of how “together” everyone’s lives seem to be, how happy they look; Little do we know how empty their lives may be too; and despite the pain in our hearts, we post stories and pictures of smiling faces, if only one could really see the vacant looks in those eyes.

“How are you doing?” we are asked. And with a smile we say “Good.” Really? Are we feeling that way or are we hiding behind a façade that we don’t want others to see?

When we hear of someone who decided to end their lives, we lament, “I wish he/she would have spoken to me.” or “Did I miss any signs?”

Maybe we need to reflect on why we don’t speak about mental health issues. And then move onto what would make us share our angst so that we can focus on feeling better, on our well-being.

Here are the most common reasons why people may not speak up about their inner anguish :

  1. I have a strong will-power. I am sure I can deal with my problems myself.

  2. How will the counselor/therapist help me with MY problems?

  3. What will people say if they get to know I am in therapy. It will show how weak I am, and affect my boss’/family’s/friend’s perceptions of me.

  4. Time will heal. And all that time does is tick by, and the pain intensifies.

  5. The focus on emotional and psychological well-being isn’t as emphasized as physical well-being is. Physical conditions such as diabetes and hypertension are so much more acceptable than depression and anxiety, isn’t it?

  6. The resistance to focus inwards, to reflect, introspect, and want to put in the effort to develop their inner selves is too strong. “I am so afraid to see what comes up,” or “Therapy is hard work.” And the expectation is that the therapist will do something to fix the person (“do you have a magic wand?), which is so far from the truth.

  7. Denial of the problems. “No no. I am absolutely fine.” Not. “I just need to busy myself a bit more and things will be OK.”

  8. Even if we do muster the courage to share our struggles, they are met with “You are fine. It’s not such a big deal. Look how much you have going for you (with a focus on external, observable things such as job, money, relationship, family, which often may not be related to one’s inner state of being at all.)

  9. We feel a roller coaster of emotions ranging from shame, guilt, weakness, hopelessness, and a fear of being judged if we do muster up the courage to share our inner world. And so, we bottle up, suppress, hide, escape, and lead lives on auto pilot, devoid of true joy and authenticity. The connection with loved ones becomes more fragile and tenuous, where we grieve that we’re all alone, no one understands us, and everyone is busy in their own lives.

I know I am talking about more serious issues that affect so many of us that: trauma, stress, anxiety, depression, withdrawal. But we often get here and find ourselves sucked into the vortex of a storm because we are stuck in this quick sand alone, with every struggle leading us further into a downward spiral. Any help from others may be unseen, unheard, or dismissed for reasons known only to us.

As if we weren’t already drifting apart because of how busy our lives become, and lately the impact of the pandemic and the lockdowns, there have been fall outs that happen, guilt we may experience for the wedge that came in the relationship, that we personally were responsible for and had our parts to play, and the hesitation remains of making that move to seek for forgiveness, or to grant it if we were wronged. There is radio silence which further doesn’t portend well for the relationship’s resurrection, if there was any hope. We lose touch with a bit of ourselves, the part that thrives on social interaction, support, and connectedness. The isolation and loneliness further deepens.

Saying “I am there” helps because it lets people know that they are cared for. And being there for real, helps even more. Our loved ones may not be looking for advice, help, or solutions to their problems, but just to have someone who listens with empathy, is there to hold them in a safe space, without their fear of being judged, is often one of the best ways to feel heard, validated, and not alone in their struggles. Knowing someone cares is often the first step in breaking the barriers towards sharing and helps build trust.

Like I said, I’m attempting to show up more for loved ones within and outside of my role as a psychologist. In the busy-ness of life, I forget to respond to the many messages one gets on all forms of social media communication. Sometimes it’s tough to keep track of to be honest. The non-responsiveness is not intentional, just that the demands placed on us are often more than the resources we have to handle them which most people may not know of, and I don’t fault them for being upset with people who may seem unavailable. I guess that’s exactly the point, I wish we would empathize with each other a lot more, to know what’s happening, to check if everything is OK, than be clouded by judgements, angst, hurt, resentments, and the like. When we congregate in a space of love and understanding, the communication, spoken and unspoken is so much more powerful.

Clear out the misunderstandings, break the silence, make an attempt to re-connect again, receive the invitation to connect unless a serious transgression that is unforgivable makes you sever ties. Communicate that as well. Appreciate that call, message or gesture rather than making jibes or taunts which may make the person feel like their efforts went in vain and closes the door thinking the other person isn’t interested. Make space for the introverts amongst us, who may not be at ease with constant social stimulation and would prefer close, trusting relationships. Make space for the outgoing, boisterous ones amongst us whose constant requests for meet ups is because they enjoy the comfort and joy that comes from human connections. We all have our ways of connecting, be it in person, or through a message. Make space for all of it, and not just from what suits us.

We are juggling so many priorities, that some may get put on the back burner. We are all trying to do our best. When I advocate strongly about self-care and self-compassion, people often misconstrue it as being selfish, when it is everything but that. Sometimes connecting with friends may be put on that back burner because family has taken priority due to a life or a medical situation, grief of a loss of a loved one incapacitates us, or maybe work is demanding. That does not mean that friends aren’t important or that we have “no time for them.” We may not have time NOW but that doesn’t mean that we are absent all along. If only we could understand that our interactions are fluid, evolving, silent at times, maybe fraught at others, but the relationship may continue to be deep, fulfilling, picking up from where we left.

And no, we don’t always have it together, we may be struggling, and we are not superhuman that we remain unscathed from the often very difficult curveballs life throws at us. It’s OK to say “I am not OK,” and that we may need a sounding board, or some space, or professional help or whatever else we may need to find our footing again. Please let go of the bravado, the skepticism, and the inhibitions, fears, or whatever else holds us back. Most of all let go of that self-worn badge that perpetuates toxic positivity, strength even when its flailing but still we pretend, and martyrdom. You are doing yourselves a huge disservice by trying to portray someone you are not, and shattering into a gazillion smithereens inside.

This much I know. We are all struggling, in some way or the other. We may walk alone, or feel alone even in a crowd. We may question our very existence, or feel like life has nothing meaningful to give. We may be dealing with dysfunctional relationships, tearing us apart within. We may have failed and fallen, bruised our souls, gotten up and teetered again, with nothing to hold onto. We may have sunk into a deep chasm, thinking we are beyond repair, beyond any help, or we may be looking for that hand to hold, for that person to walk with us even in the dark, even when the path is strewn with obstacles. For that person to hear our heart cry and not just hear the spoken word, to see the pain behind the tears, and not just feel uncomfortable at the sight of them; to not feel compelled to “fix,” or “solve,” but just to be there, the way we would want them to be.

Holding hands.jpg

As I glanced through my pictures from my days working as a psychologist at a hospital, I came across this picture of a young girl who was admitted there. Having sustained a spinal cord injury that left her paralyzed waist down, here she was in therapy with me, dealing with the trauma of that fall. She held my hand, and showed off her freshly painted blue nails, a way of perking her mood up, she said. The grip was tight, an indication of fear and a cry for help, which I caught on. Just that one gesture and I knew we had a long path to traverse and a therapeutic relationship to build.

Yes, we are all struggling, as I have observed inside and outside my clinic doors, and the best thing we can do is try and earnestly step into each other’s shoes, offer understanding, and most of all kindness and our authentic, genuine presence. The rest just falls into place.

I am ready to show up with all I have, a medley of love, kindness, healing, my annoying social idiosyncrasies, and am ready to take on that responsibility again. Are you?