With reflections on the inner child and the healing power of relationship
When I first began therapy, I didn’t realise how guarded I’d become. On the surface, I was functioning, holding things together, smiling when I needed to, pushing through. But underneath, there was a quiet sense of aloneness. I wasn’t sure anyone could meet me where I was. I wasn’t even sure I could meet myself there.
The idea of trusting someone else, especially with the most vulnerable parts of me, felt almost impossible. But something deeper inside me, something tender and true, longed for connection. I now recognise this part as my inner child, the part of me that still remembers what it felt like to be unseen, dismissed, or misunderstood. But also, the part that still held out hope.
My journey in therapy began cautiously. I didn’t reveal everything at once. How could I? I had learned to be careful. And my younger self had good reasons for that caution.
But my therapist didn’t demand my trust. She held space. She listened, not just to my words, but to what was underneath them. If I stumbled, or got angry, or sat in silence, that was okay. That was welcomed.
Slowly, through small, consistent moments of safety, something began to shift. A look of compassion when I shared something painful. A remembering of something I’d said weeks ago. A gentle holding of boundaries when I needed it most.
These seemingly small moments were powerful. They reached places in me that I had never felt safe before. My inner child, who had learned to expect rejection or disappointment, began to feel a different possibility: that the relationship could be healing.
In Jungian psychotherapy, we often speak of the Self, the deeper, wiser part of us that holds our wholeness even when we feel fragmented. Trusting my therapist helped me reconnect with that deeper part of myself. As I allowed more of my truth into the room, I realised I wasn’t just learning to trust her. I was also learning to trust myself.
And that began to ripple outward.
I noticed that I was less reactive in relationships, less likely to shut down or hide. I started recognising when a friend’s support felt genuine, or when someone’s presence felt nourishing. I began to notice the difference between fear and intuition.
I started speaking up more, not loudly, but more truthfully. And I could feel when the other person responded with care rather than defensiveness. These moments gave me the courage to keep going.
Therapy became a kind of rehearsal space. A place to try out what it felt like to be real. To be met without shame. And from there, my outer relationships began to reflect what was happening inside.
Of course, trust still wobbles sometimes. There are still days when I feel the old patterns tug at me. However, I now have more inner resources. I can sit with that part of me, the child, the protector, the exile, and gently say: I see you. We’re not alone anymore.
Healing isn’t linear. But over time, through the therapeutic relationship, I’ve learned that trust is not a naive leap. It is a courageous, sacred unfolding.
If you’re wondering whether it’s possible to rebuild trust in yourself, in others, in life, know that you don’t have to do it alone.
You’re welcome to contact me for a gentle conversation about what support might feel safe and meaningful for you.
Linda Bishopp
Holistic Psychotherapist, Intuitive Coach, Healer
MA, MBACP
📍 Based in Capel Le Ferne, Kent | 🌐 Online sessions available
📞 07786 543 123 | 📧 linda@lindabishopp.co.uk
🌐 www.lindabishopp.co.uk