How did I get here!

There often comes a moment in life when something begins to stir beneath the surface. The ways we have learned to cope no longer feel as effective, relationships repeat familiar patterns or we find ourselves feeling tired, disconnected or quietly dissatisfied. These moments are not signs that something is wrong with us but invitations - gentle calls to pause and turn inward and look at our lives with curiosity, compassion and honesty.

We wonder why we behave the way we do? Why we always say yes when we really want to say no? Why we over-give or find it hard to relax, to trust or even to ask for what we need?

We often assume these patterns and ways of behaving are simply part of our personality - just who we are. But here’s the thing: they are not who we are. They are actually adaptations formed in our early years when we learned that safety, love or belonging depended on behaving in certain ways. Every family has ideas and concepts of what is good or bad, right or wrong, acceptable or unacceptable and we learned early on what was needed for our survival, for us to fit in and we had to become those very things that got us love and approval even if they hurt. 

These patterns and behaviours are not truths but survival strategies and they often form a core belief system built on painful conclusions such as I’m unlovable or I’m not enough. As children, we begin to believe that to be loved and valued we must excel, be beautiful, be smart or successful, be self-sacrificing or endlessly giving. Love becomes something to earn - rather than something freely given. Beneath these layers of adaptation - beneath the false self that was created - is the part of us that never stopped waiting to be seen. This is the inner child/the authentic self.

Psychologist John Bradshaw described this part of us as our “original self” - spontaneous, creative, feeling and free. It is the inner child that carries our natural innocence and capacity for joy but it also holds the pain of unmet needs, confusion, loneliness, fear and shame from our earliest years. When we grow up in environments that are unsafe, unpredictable or emotionally unavailable, we learn to suppress what feels unacceptable - our sadness, anger, vulnerability and even joy.

In place of self-expression we develop strategies to gain love and avoid rejection and over time these strategies begin to look like our identities - who we are.

Many of us grew up with what is known as complex trauma. When people hear the word trauma they often think of catastrophic events such as violence, loss or disaster. But complex trauma is more subtle and enduring. It is the slow erosion of safety that occurs when a child grows up without consistent emotional attunement - where love may be conditional, unpredictable or overshadowed by conflict, neglect or chronic stress.

The landmark Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study identified ten forms of early adversity, including abuse, neglect and household dysfunction that are strongly linked to later struggles with physical health, anxiety and relationships. As Gabor Maté explains, “Trauma is not what happens to you but what happens inside of you as a result of what happens to you.” The study confirmed what many therapists already knew: early relational stress leaves lasting marks on both the body and the mind.

For a child the most painful trauma is often emotional disconnection. The body survives but the self begins to fragment. To cope the child constructs an adaptive persona to protect the wounded inner child. This protective self is formed to survive in an environment where feelings, needs and desires are not safe or welcomed. John Bradshaw described it as the “mask” we wear to gain love, acceptance or approval while shielding our vulnerable inner world from further harm.

Children who grow up with inconsistency, rejection or neglect quickly learn that expressing themselves can lead to criticism, punishment or abandonment. In response they develop survival behaviours and beliefs that live deep in the subconscious. These beliefs feel like truth because, at the time, they were true. In adult life however they become invisible prisons - manifesting as people-pleasing, perfectionism, self-neglect, codependency, emotional withdrawal or self-sabotage.

Tim Fletcher and John Bradshaw identified common inner-child roles that develop in response to unsafe or inconsistent care - ways a child learns to secure love and value from caregivers. These include the Caretaker who soothes anxiety by caring for others, the Rescuer who gains a sense of control by fixing problems, the Yes-Person who keeps peace by suppressing their own needs, the Overachiever who earns safety through performance, the Underachiever who avoids danger by staying small, the Hero-Worshipper who attaches to strength to avoid abandonment and the Life of the Party who uses charm to prevent rejection.

Over time the false self becomes habitual and unconscious shaping our thoughts, choices and relationships. Many adults do not realise when they are acting from this place; it feels automatic and familiar even when it leads to frustration or emotional pain.

We may find ourselves saying yes when we want to say no, feeling anxious or guilty when we rest, taking responsibility for other people’s emotions and needs, struggling to connect deeply or achieving and giving in order to feel worthy.

At some point, the strategies that once protected us begin to constrict us. We may live outwardly functional lives while feeling inwardly depleted, disconnected or unseen. Yet beneath the conditioning and coping, something real and whole still exists. As Gabor Maté reminds us, “Healing is not about becoming a better version of yourself. It’s about becoming who you were before you had to protect yourself.”

Healing work helps us to understand that the problem is not that we are broken but that we were never allowed to be fully ourselves. As old survival patterns soften creativity and joy re-emerge. Relationships become more honest. The nervous system learns safety not through control but through presence. The goal is not to abolish the false self but to integrate it - to thank it for its service and allow it to rest while a deeper, truer way of being begins to lead.

The journey of healing is not about becoming someone new; it is about coming home to the self that has always been there waiting. The false self deserves gratitude for keeping us safe when safety was uncertain. But now we can choose differently. We can live from presence rather than fear, from truth rather than adaptation. As we turn inward with curiosity and compassion, we begin to meet the child within not as a problem to be solved but as a vital part of ourselves waiting to be welcomed back.

Many people come to therapy thinking they need to “fix” their anxiety, depression, people-pleasing or overthinking.

But the real work of therapy is gentler and deeper. It’s about turning towards the child within and saying “I see you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. You’re safe now”.

This is not quick work. It unfolds in layers of insight, grief, compassion and growing freedom. Over time, the inner child learns that safety no longer depends on suppression or performance. Life begins to feel more congruent, less exhausting and more fully one’s own.

This is the journey of life itself:

to remember who you were before you learned to hide behind the mask

and to come home - at last - to yourself.