The Child Inside

Sometimes, we just feel silly. If you're reading this, chances are your a fully (or mostly) grown adult, but we often find ourselves giggling or feeling playful. We might crack up at some low-brow humor. And silliness can show up in other ways, too. We might try to figure out why we got so upset at something that is so seemingly insignificant. Why is whatever happened such a big deal to us? Whether we're getting irrationally upset or we just feel like dancing, it can feel like there's a younger part of us that temporarily takes over. 

One of the things that I often say to my clients is that we can't control our emotions. We don't have the power to choose which feelings we experience at any given moment. It's simply not how we are wired. Our emotions emerge from a combination of experiences and norms and biological processes. It can be hard for us to recognize this and there is something about it that doesn't feel mature. Maybe we have a sense that we shouldn't be sad about something that has happened. It can be tempting to label that sadness as juvenile which can carry a negative sentiment. It's as if to be an adult means that we have to put away childish things – things like feeling sad or dancing or having hurt feelings. We seem to think that being an adult is somehow above being a child.

I don't believe that's true. I think that we all have inner children who can help us feel more fully whole if we truly allow them to find their voice. In an idyllic sense, we have a notion that to be a child is to be unencumbered by the pressures of the adult world. They aren't concerned about the judgments of other people. They express their inner feelings more directly without all of the extra layers of rationale and comportment and others' expectations to get hung up on. 

Childhood is usually a time of freedom and seeing the world from a positive perspective. It's life at its most authentic. We live out what we feel inside. When we're excited and energized, we run. When we're upset, we cry. When we're overjoyed, our emotions spill out as laughter and dancing. What an incredible spirit! At some point, though, our spirit can become obstructed. This obstruction shows up as messages that our emotions are inappropriate or unwelcome. They aren't proper. We're told that there is a set of expectations that we should be trying to live up to. Mature people don't dance when they're happy, after all.

"You're having too much fun."

"Real men don't cry."

"Why are getting so angry?"

It's important to point out that others of us experience this obstruction in more drastic ways. We learn that our emotions are dangerous because they seem to evoke corrosive power in other people who have influence over us. These are wounds and they can be intense in their power. We learn that we need to suppress the things that we feel – to make sure that they don't spill out – as an act of self-protection. 

In all of these cases, our inner child can get grounded – sent to their room indefinitely. Some of the most profound healing that I've had the opportunity to witness so far has been the result of people choosing to end the punishment. When we stop penalizing these parts of themselves and begin to see them and care for them as we would any child, amazing things can happen. We realize that joy or sadness or anger that we felt as children were OK; it wasn't something to be ashamed or embarrassed about. These inner children are actually cute and exuberant. They simply want to be free and live in the moment the only way they know how. They inject our lives with joy and a refreshing simplicity that we all too easily forget.

How unfortunate that we've been told these precious children – our younger selves – are liabilities instead of treasures! All these inner children need is someone to take care of them and to love them for who they are. They just need someone to reassure them that they are OK.

Maybe that someone is you.

I love helping people do the kind of work that connects them with these younger versions of themselves. I love when an individual is able to look back and see that inner child – that inner representation of themselves – as good and whole and important. When we hear the inner child and can respond to their unmet needs, we can unleash a joy and an excitement that can powerfully impact our lives and our relationships. When we are curious about them, we get the privilege of seeing our world in ways that we had otherwise forgotten.

Our inner children are not liabilities. They are not inconveniences. Perhaps, we need to replace the idea of being juvenile with being free, or more child-like, or being unconcerned with how others see us. To be free is to be unaware of the short-comings that people place on us. Maybe there is value in celebrating our inner child.

Just maybe, when we feel joy, we should invite our inner child to dance.

Of Two Minds

An Introduction to Internal Family Systems

When I was growing up, there was an expression I would often hear people in my family use to describe their experience of wavering back and forth on a decision that had to be made. The situation usually wasn’t anything significant, but they at least weren’t super settled on what they actually wanted to do. When that was the case, someone would often say, “I’m of two minds about that.” I’ve realized, of course, it’s one of those regional idioms that might vary from place to place – I’ve heard the of replaced with in or on depending on where a speaker might be from. Either way, it speaks to the inner conflict that we all often feel at some point or another. Maybe you picture the classic cartoon scene of a character with an angel speaking in one ear and a devil speaking in the other.

Two voices. Two perspectives. Two motivations.

Who wins?

As a therapist, I find inner conflict incredibly interesting. This is partly true because I often practice a type of therapy that isn’t very far removed from this very idea. No, we don’t speak about angels and demons on your shoulders, but we do recognize that we often have these inner dialogues and debates. Even if you’ve never said, “I’m on two minds” about something, you might have recognized that “There’s a part of me that wants to say yes, and another that wants to say no.” What are these parts? Why are they so conflicted? How can we get them to come to a resolution? When you can’t come to a resolution, which part wins?

This approach to therapy (called Internal Family Systems Therapy, or IFS) embraces the idea that these parts represent aspects of ourselves. Noticing these tendencies in himself and his clients, Dick Schwartz founded and developed IFS into a truly effective approach to working with clients. You’ve probably recognized that your thoughts and behavior is contextual. Depending on the particular situation, it can feel as though a different version of yourself shows up. For example, it might feel like you’re generally a happy, friendly person who enjoys having fun and getting to know people. But what happens when you have to sit in a meeting with that annoying coworker? You become cold. You give curt answers. You might even be mean to her. It is as though a different person is sitting in your chair.

In the language of IFS, we all have a unique collection of these parts of ourselves. Different parts assume internal leadership roles based on past experiences and other factors. This leadership is as much about managing your internal, emotional state as it is navigating how to deal with the annoying coworker. In our example, it’s most often the friendly part of you that is in the manager’s chair. The presence of your coworker requires a colder, vindictive part to take control.

Another phrase that I love within the therapy room is that “Everything communicates” and the fact that this leadership role shifts in the presence of a particular means there is probably something worth listening for. Why does the vindictive part come out when this person shows up? If this vindictive part could talk, what would it say? Everyone’s situation is different, of course, but for the sake of our example, let’s imagine some scenarios. This part might say that your coworker reminds them of someone similar from your past who got the promotion that you wanted. It might say that there is something about the way that she talks or smiles that reminds you of the bully from middle school. Or, maybe you were vulnerable with someone who used flattery and friendliness and who then used that information to manipulate or take advantage of you. A vindictive part in this situation might list any of these scenarios, but what they have in common is that it is about protecting you from getting hurt again.

Of course, from a distance, we can recognize that a vindictive approach may not be the healthiest, but it does have the effect of keeping the other person – and the associated negative memories – at bay. IFS is about listening to what these parts have to say and exploring the implications. Like people, parts often just want to be heard and noticed.

For people that engage in this kind of work, it’s not uncommon to begin to uncover all kinds of parts. There are parts that are loving and kind. There are parts that focused on helping others or about finding definitive answers to questions. There are parts that may be spiteful, or full of pride, sadness, or shame. Some parts seem to have a temper and don’t seem to care who might get offended. At the core, all of these parts want to ensure our physical and emotional safety, but sometimes, we get into unhealthy patterns and let parts take on more of a leadership role than they actually should.

There are many different ways to understand ourselves more deeply and to improve the quality of our relationships. One of those ways is to get more acquainted with these members of our internal family. These parts have so much to teach us about how we see the world and our place in it. When you engage with a therapist in this kind of way, they can help you identify the parts of yourself that lead and the parts that have been forgotten or pushed aside. It is about honoring the complexities of who you, about helping you learn from your past experiences, and about integrating your parts in order that you can lead yourself through the world in a brand new way.

Photo Credit: "Tin soldiers standing at attention" by Nic McPhee is licensed by CC BY-SA 2.0.