The Inner Voices That Open Spaces

As children, we depend on others to help us regulate. We cannot sort through feelings on our own, cannot balance needs by ourselves. We need resonance from the outside in order to learn to feel ourselves.

When an important attachment figure calms us in a moment of distress without judging, when she endures our anger without punishing, or when he allows us to be sad without making it go away, then we learn: this is how someone can be with me. This is how I’m allowed to be.

Such encounters condense into inner images that live inside us, even when those people are long gone. They become like inner voices that permit, encourage, and create space.

How do benevolent other-representations work?

A leader faces a difficult decision. A voice stirs inside that doesn’t push but asks: “What do you need to make this decision well? What worry is weighing on you? Take your time.” This voice may come from a former mentor who gave space instead of applying pressure.

A partner expresses a wish that can’t be fulfilled right away. Instead of disappointment, something arises inside: “I’m sad, and at the same time it’s ok for now.” This equanimity comes from a time when, as a child, the partner was sensitively accompanied in his anger when he didn’t always get what he wanted right away.

Benevolent other-representations are just as powerful as the critical ones, and just as learned.

The difference: they open spaces instead of closing them. They enable contact with what we need instead of cutting us off from it, whether we can fulfill the need right now or not.

Not everyone has internalized many benevolent voices. Sometimes they weren’t there, or the critical ones were too powerful.

The good news is that other-representations can also form later in life. They emerge wherever we have relational experiences that differ from the familiar ones.

For example, a coach who not only refrains from judging but supports us in not doing it to ourselves either. A friend who listens without trying to fix. A colleague who normalizes mistakes. A therapist who can hold what we ourselves can barely endure.

What matters is not that these people are perfect. What matters is that in their presence we can experience what we don’t allow ourselves when alone. That we can try out a more benevolent image of ourselves.

Such experiences need time and repetition. But they can condense, becoming new inner voices that over time begin to sound more familiar.