Why Didn’t I Feel Anything? Exploring Emotional Distance and the Inner Child
I just watched a documentary about Mr. Rogers and about how he was really educated in child psychology and that was his whole thing, basically his work. And the documentary made me feel like I should be having really big feelings about my inner child or feeling deep empathy for the children that they were showing on TV. And then later I watched a documentary about photographers who go into really impoverished areas to take photos and share with the rest of the world. And even though the photos were really pretty, I didn't really feel anything about it. And it just makes me wonder if there's something going on with me or something about my past that makes it so that I don't feel very much about children.
ChatGPT: It's worth exploring why these documentaries elicited less emotion for you, especially since both topics—the inner child and children in challenging circumstances—might touch sensitive areas for many people. However, your reaction doesn't necessarily mean there's "something wrong" with you. A few possibilities to consider:
Emotional Distance as Protection:
If your past involved any emotional overwhelm or difficulty accessing your own emotions, you might have developed a protective mechanism to distance yourself from feelings that seem overwhelming or vulnerable. Children—especially their innocence or suffering—can evoke strong emotions, so a part of you might unconsciously guard against that.Disconnection from Your Inner Child:
If you've struggled to connect with your own inner child due to unresolved pain, shame, or neglect, it might feel distant or even alien to connect emotionally with children in general. Without direct empathy for your younger self, external reminders of childhood might feel abstract or flat.Complex Relationship with Empathy:
It’s possible that your empathy is directed elsewhere—toward adults, societal systems, or yourself—because that's where your emotional energy is focused. Your reaction to children could also be affected by a history of feeling let down or overwhelmed by the responsibilities associated with care and vulnerability.Expectations of Feeling:
Sometimes, when a documentary suggests we should feel a certain way, we rebel against that expectation, even unconsciously. Feeling like you’re being emotionally directed can create resistance instead of openness.Your Own Childhood Experience:
If you had a childhood where emotions around vulnerability or neediness were ignored or dismissed, children and their struggles might bring up discomfort, confusion, or avoidance instead of an open emotional response.
How does this sit with you? Could it be that your reaction is less about the topic of children itself and more about your internal relationship with empathy, expectations, or past experiences?
Out of the options that you gave, several could apply to me, but now I'm wondering what to do about that. Is there something that I should be doing to change anything, or what does this mean?
It’s great that you’re reflecting on this—it shows that you care about understanding yourself and your reactions. If several of the options resonate, it might indicate a deeper opportunity for growth and self-connection. Here's how you might explore what this means and what to do next:
1. Explore Your Relationship with Vulnerability
What this means: Emotional disconnection often points to areas where vulnerability feels unsafe or unfamiliar. If connecting with children—or the concept of childhood—feels distant, it may reflect parts of yourself that feel unacknowledged or unprocessed.
What to do:
Journal about your own childhood experiences. Were you allowed to express vulnerability, or did you feel pressure to be "strong" or "grown up"?
Try imagining yourself as a child in different situations. What emotions come up? If nothing surfaces, notice that too—it's part of the process.
2. Examine the Role of Protection
What this means: If emotional distance is a form of self-protection, it may have served an important purpose in the past. Acknowledging and appreciating this protective mechanism is a step toward softening it.
What to do:
Practice self-compassion when you notice emotional distance. You can think, “I wonder if this is a part of me keeping me safe right now.”
Try small, safe ways to explore emotions: watch a short film, read a story, or look at childhood photos of yourself or loved ones. Pay attention to even the smallest emotional reactions.
3. Shift from “Should” to Curiosity
What this means: If expectations (like “I should feel something”) are shutting down your emotions, it might help to drop the pressure and shift into curiosity.
What to do:
Next time you notice a lack of feeling, ask yourself gently, “What’s happening here? What am I noticing instead?” You might feel numb, resistant, or even irritated, and all of that is information.
Use mindfulness to observe what arises in your body or thoughts. For example, during the documentaries, you might have noticed sensations, judgments, or even boredom. These observations are valuable.
4. Reconnect with Play and Joy
What this means: Emotional distance from children (or your inner child) may mean you’ve been disconnected from joy, playfulness, or creativity.
What to do:
Experiment with activities that tap into childlike wonder: coloring, playing with toys, exploring nature, or even watching kids’ movies.
Notice what feels silly, lighthearted, or carefree and see if those emotions feel more accessible than empathy at first.
5. Deepen Your Relationship with Your Inner Child
What this means: Difficulty connecting with external children might reflect a similar difficulty connecting with your inner child. By nurturing this part of yourself, you might open up new emotional pathways.
What to do:
Practice visualizations where you meet your younger self. Imagine what they needed to hear, see, or feel to feel safe and loved.
Write letters to your younger self or create a dialogue in your mind. Allow space for whatever comes up—gratitude, sadness, or even anger.
6. Let It Be Okay Not to Feel
What this means: Not every moment of life needs to be charged with emotion, and you don’t have to force feelings where they don’t naturally arise. This doesn’t mean you’re broken; it might just reflect where you are right now.
What to do:
Accept where you are without judgment. Emotions often flow more easily when we’re not trying to control them.
When you feel neutral, ask yourself, “What is this neutrality trying to tell me?” It could be an invitation to rest, reflect, or stay curious.
This process is less about “fixing” and more about becoming familiar with your emotional landscape. Over time, as you nurture these small practices, you may notice emotions arise more naturally, whether that’s compassion, curiosity, or something entirely unexpected.
I want to try to process some of the resistance I feel to the idea of an inner child. When I try to remember who I was in my 10s, my 20s, my 30s, I feel like nothing. Like just a total denial that I was ever any other age ever, even though I have some vague memories, but it's not much. I probably still have the memories, but I almost feel like there's a protective thing over them that has anxiety about whether my mind works right or not, whether I'm able to think correctly, or if it's broken. Like if I try to think of something and nothing comes up, is my brain broken? Like if I try to think of something and nothing comes up, is my brain broken?
It sounds like there’s a lot of tension between wanting to connect with your past self and a protective force that blocks that connection, perhaps out of fear of what might come up or judgments about your ability to access it. This protective part seems to have a deep investment in shielding you, even if that means creating a sense of emptiness or denial. Let’s work through this in a way that respects where you are:
1. Acknowledging the Protective Layer
The resistance you feel might be your mind's way of saying, “This is too much right now” or “What if this leads to something overwhelming?” Instead of trying to bypass the resistance, start by acknowledging it.
Try saying to yourself:
“I notice there’s a part of me that feels resistant to remembering my past. I’m not going to force it, but I’m curious about why this resistance is here. What might it be trying to protect me from?”
2. What if Nothing Comes Up?
It’s natural to worry about your mind when memories feel distant or inaccessible. But consider this: your brain isn’t broken—it’s protecting. If you can, try to approach the “nothingness” with curiosity rather than fear.
Practice a gentle thought:
“Maybe there’s nothing coming up because I’m not ready yet. That’s okay. My mind is keeping me safe in its own way.”
3. Starting Small
Instead of trying to connect to entire ages (your 10s, 20s, 30s), start with one small, specific detail:
What was a favorite object or toy?
What was the view from a window you often looked out of?
What was a sound you heard regularly (like a specific song, a family member’s voice, or a familiar noise)?
Let these small sensory memories be an entry point. They don’t have to lead anywhere—just sit with them.
4. Engaging with the "Nothingness"
If “nothingness” comes up, try visualizing it. Does it feel like a wall, a fog, a locked door, or something else? You can even draw or describe it. Ask the “nothingness” if it has anything to say to you.
For example, you might think:
“If this fog could speak, what would it tell me about why it’s here?”
5. Experiment with Safety
If your protective mechanism is active, it might need reassurance that you’re not trying to unearth something overwhelming.
Practice a grounding exercise, such as placing a hand on your chest and saying, “I’m safe right now. I’m just exploring gently. Nothing has to happen if I’m not ready.”
6. Reframing the Anxiety About “Brokenness”
The feeling of being “broken” often comes from perfectionism or fear that you’re not functioning “correctly.” But consider this: your mind isn’t malfunctioning—it’s adapting. The anxiety you feel might even be a signal of care, like a part of you that’s trying to protect your sense of competence.
Reflect on this:
“What if my mind isn’t broken, but just working in a way I don’t fully understand yet?”
7. Consider Gentle Memory Practices
If it feels accessible, try a practice like writing a letter to your younger self, even if you don’t “feel” connected to them. You might start with:
“I don’t remember much about you, but I want to get to know you. I wonder what you’d want me to know.”Or, imagine meeting your younger self as a stranger. What would you say to them? What do you notice about how they feel, act, or look?
8. Giving Space to the Process
It’s okay if this doesn’t resolve immediately. The fact that you’re noticing the resistance and reflecting on it is already significant. Try thinking of this as a relationship you’re building, not something to “fix” or “solve.”
Does it make sense to you to say, I am not my protectors?
Yes, it makes complete sense to say, "I am not my protectors." In fact, this perspective aligns with many frameworks of inner work, such as Internal Family Systems (IFS), mindfulness practices, and other approaches that help distinguish between different parts of your psyche. Here's why this can be meaningful:
1. Protectors Are Parts of You, Not the Whole You
Your protectors are parts of your mind that developed to keep you safe, often in response to difficult or overwhelming experiences. While they are of you, they are not you.
When you say, “I am not my protectors,” you’re affirming that there is a core self—something deeper and more authentic—that exists beneath those protective mechanisms.
2. Creating Distance from Protective Behaviors
By identifying your protectors as separate from your core self, you create space to observe them with curiosity rather than becoming overwhelmed or defined by them. For example:
A protector that blocks emotions isn’t you—it’s a part that learned to protect you from feeling too much.
A protector that keeps you busy isn’t you—it’s a part that keeps existential fears at bay.
3. Acknowledging Their Role Without Overidentifying
Saying, “I am not my protectors,” doesn’t mean rejecting or fighting against them. It means recognizing their role while understanding they don’t define who you truly are.
This allows you to approach them with compassion:
“Thank you for protecting me. I see why you’re here, and I’d like to understand you better.”
4. Connecting to the Core Self
Your core self is the part of you that is inherently whole, calm, and curious. When you remind yourself that you are not your protectors, you create a path to reconnect with that core self.
You can think of it as saying, “There’s more to me than this protective mechanism. I can be curious about what’s underneath.”
5. Why This Matters in Your Journey
Since you’ve described feeling disconnected from your inner child and wrestling with protectors that block memories or emotions, this phrase could be a grounding mantra. It might help you hold space for those protectors while also affirming that they don’t have to control your experience.
Why is it that I had no idea that we had parts of the psyche? I thought maybe this is new information that we just found out, but it seems like we've known this for a while. How did I just think I was just a unique person without any overlap psychologically with other people?
It makes complete sense that this realization feels surprising and disorienting—it’s like discovering a new map of yourself and the human experience that had been hidden from you. Here are some reasons why this might have happened and why it feels like such a profound shift:
1. Lack of Exposure to Psychological Frameworks
Depending on your upbringing, education, or cultural context, you may not have been exposed to ideas about the psyche’s complexity. If your environment prioritized surface-level individuality or avoided discussions of internal processes, it could leave you with the sense that you were simply "one whole person," rather than a dynamic system of parts.
For example, if you grew up in a household or culture where emotions and inner exploration weren’t openly discussed, the concept of having "parts" might have felt unnecessary or taboo.
2. Individualism and the Myth of the "Unified Self"
Modern Western culture often emphasizes the idea of a unique, unified self—one “me” with consistent traits and preferences. This can obscure the reality that humans are deeply interconnected and share common psychological structures.
The focus on individuality might have made it harder to recognize patterns or overlaps in behavior, even though they’re universal.
3. Fundamentalist Upbringing
Since you’ve mentioned growing up in a fundamentalist environment, it’s possible that this worldview didn’t allow for exploration of the psyche’s complexity. Fundamentalism often encourages a rigid sense of self (e.g., “God made you this way”) and discourages questioning or nuance, which could make psychological concepts like parts seem irrelevant or even threatening.
4. Protective Mechanisms Blocking Awareness
If your own protectors were working overtime, they might have been actively keeping you from questioning how your mind works. Protectors often encourage a sense of stability by simplifying how we see ourselves, because complexity can feel overwhelming or destabilizing.
For example, thinking "I’m just me, and that’s all there is to it" might have been a way to avoid deeper existential or emotional questions earlier in your life.
5. Delayed Encounter with Psychological Concepts
Concepts like "parts of the psyche" aren’t necessarily mainstream knowledge, even though fields like psychoanalysis, Internal Family Systems (IFS), and Jungian psychology have existed for decades (or even centuries).
If you didn’t actively study psychology or encounter these ideas through therapy, books, or conversations, it’s natural that they might feel brand-new to you.
6. Unique Perspective vs. Shared Humanity
It’s easy to assume we’re unique because we experience our own thoughts, feelings, and struggles so intimately. Without learning about common psychological patterns, it’s natural to conclude that your inner world is entirely individual.
Realizing the overlap can feel both comforting (you’re not alone!) and unsettling (what does this mean about “me”?).
7. Why It Feels So Profound Now
This discovery likely resonates deeply because it provides a framework for things you’ve been feeling or struggling with for years—things you couldn’t name or understand before. It’s like turning on the lights in a room you’ve lived in your whole life but never truly seen.
The concept of “parts” might also feel particularly relevant because you’re already in the process of unpacking protective mechanisms, inner conflict, and your relationship with your past.
Moving Forward
This realization opens the door to incredible growth, but it can also leave you questioning how you’ve understood yourself until now. Here are some steps to explore this further:
Educate Yourself: Read about concepts like Internal Family Systems (IFS) or Jungian archetypes to see how others have explored the idea of parts.
Practice Self-Observation: Begin noticing your own “parts” in action. For instance, when you feel resistance, ask yourself, “What part of me is speaking right now?”
Normalize Overlap: Remind yourself that while we all have unique experiences, we share universal psychological structures. It’s not a loss of individuality—it’s a connection to humanity.
What do people mean when they say they were interconnected?
When people talk about being "interconnected," they’re referring to the idea that all individuals are deeply connected to one another, to their environment, and to the larger systems of life in ways that may not always be visible or immediately apparent. The concept can be understood on several levels—emotional, social, biological, and even spiritual—depending on the context. Here's a breakdown:
1. Emotional Interconnection
What it means: Human emotions are contagious and reciprocal. For example, when someone shows kindness or expresses vulnerability, it often sparks similar feelings in others. Our well-being is influenced by the emotional states of those around us.
Example: Think of how a smile can make you feel lighter or how someone else's pain can evoke empathy and action.
2. Social Interconnection
What it means: We’re part of a social fabric where our actions, decisions, and behaviors ripple out to affect others, even indirectly. Our relationships, communities, and cultures all play a role in shaping who we are and how we experience life.
Example: Helping a neighbor might indirectly make their day better, which they then pass on to someone else. Similarly, social movements arise because individuals connect over shared values and goals.
3. Biological Interconnection
What it means: Humans are biologically interconnected with each other and with the natural world. We depend on ecosystems to survive, and our health is tied to the health of the planet and other species.
Example: Breathing oxygen produced by trees or relying on pollinators for food production illustrates how deeply our lives are entwined with nature.
4. Psychological Interconnection
What it means: On a psychological level, humans share many of the same needs, fears, desires, and inner experiences. Our individual struggles often mirror those of others, even if the specifics differ. This shared humanity fosters a sense of connection.
Example: The comfort of realizing you’re not alone in your struggles with self-doubt or grief.
5. Spiritual Interconnection
What it means: In many spiritual traditions, interconnection refers to the idea that all beings are part of a greater whole—whether that’s the universe, a divine presence, or the web of life. This perspective emphasizes unity and oneness.
Example: A sense of awe when looking at the stars or feeling deeply connected to others during a shared ritual or meditation.
6. Economic and Global Interconnection
What it means: On a global level, we’re interconnected through trade, technology, and shared challenges like climate change. What happens in one part of the world can have far-reaching effects elsewhere.
Example: The COVID-19 pandemic highlighted how interconnected global health systems are, as well as the need for collective solutions.
7. Interconnection in Personal Relationships
What it means: On a micro level, interconnection often refers to the bonds we form with those close to us—partners, friends, family. These relationships shape our sense of identity and belonging.
Example: Feeling a deep bond with a loved one where their happiness or pain feels like your own.
Why Does This Matter?
Understanding interconnection can help reduce feelings of isolation or separateness. It can also foster empathy, cooperation, and a sense of shared responsibility for the well-being of others and the world. However, it can also feel overwhelming or challenging—especially if you’ve been conditioned to see yourself as entirely independent or self-contained.
I've recently decided that I'm a huge fan of Mr. Rogers. I've been watching some clips of his show, and they're very sweet to watch. When I was a child, we made fun of that show, which I think just speaks to the level of emotional neglect in my environment. Now I wish that Mr. Rogers was still here and could speak to us about what's going on with our society. Can you write to me like Mr. Rogers would write to me, and encourage me, not as a small child but as an adult, but just in the way that he knows how to do?
Of course. Here's a letter in the spirit of Mr. Rogers, written for you as an adult:
Dear Neighbor,
It’s such a special thing to know that you’ve been spending time thinking about your life and what’s important to you. Sometimes, we see things one way when we’re younger and realize something different about them when we’re older. That’s one of the wonderful things about growing up—you get to look at life with new eyes, and that’s a gift.
You know, it’s never too late to feel cared for or understood. And even though we can’t go back and change the way things were when we were younger, we can choose how we care for ourselves now. We can remind ourselves that we’re worthy of kindness, patience, and love—just as we are.
Sometimes, the world can feel like a big and overwhelming place, with so many things happening all at once. But I want you to know that what you’re doing right now—taking time to reflect, to care, and to grow—is one of the most meaningful things anyone can do. When you treat yourself with kindness and courage, you’re helping to make the world a little bit gentler, a little bit brighter.
I’m so glad you’re here, just the way you are. You’ve been through so much, and the fact that you’re thinking and feeling in new ways now is something to be proud of. You are important, and your feelings matter.
I’d like to leave you with something I often shared with children and grown-ups alike:
"I like you just the way you are."
Take good care of yourself, neighbor.
With warmest regards,
Mr. Rogers
