Introducing Robert, my inner critic

I introduce you to Robert, my inner critic. I met him yesterday for the first time, taking a long bath. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the bath is my refuge, my safe space, where I can let myself go. Robert is a boy of only thirteen. He has horror in his eyes, and he is very afraid.

I remember that, years ago, when in Alex Iantaffi and Meg-John Barker's book Hell Yeah Self Care I was invited to draw my inner critic, I drew (badly) my mother's face. I thought I was clear that my inner critic has my mother's face and voice, but is male. And when I wrote about my inner critic the first time in January, I wrote this:

“When perhaps two years ago I did an exercise in Alex Iantaffi and Meg-John Barker's book Hell Yeah Self Care to draw the face of my inner critic, I drew my mother's face. However, I always saw my inner critic as male, but with my mother's face and voice. He was a very toxic critic, for him nothing was enough, he always told me "you can't do this, you never finish anything, you won't achieve anything, ...". The results of Cris' work were never good enough. Nothing satisfied him.”

But, now I understand that I was wrong. The truth is that he is a thirteen year old boy. He has the reflection of his/my mother's face in his eyes, wide open in horror, and his/my mother's voice in his ear. He has internalised all his mother's negative messages: you can't do this, you're bad, you're weird, you'll never achieve anything, nobody will love you. He has also absorbed all her fears: of the dark, of the night, of being alone at home.

Robert thinks that he IS bad, that he IS weird, that everything bad is his fault, because he IS bad. He thinks he deserves all the mistreatment, the neglect, the abuse, as he IS bad. He thinks he deserves to be alone, to have no friends, as he IS bad, as he IS weird. He eats all his anger, although he has a lot of anger, and I don't know where he has room for so much anger. But, above all, he is afraid. He can't express his anger out of fear. And he doesn't trust anyone or anything. He thinks that life will always be like this, shitty, and that he deserves to live this shitty life.

From this fear, this guilt, Robert has always tried to protect me, to protect us. He prefers the bad that he has before taking the risk to look for something better and new, as he doesn't trust that something could be better. Better the bad but stable, that gives him security.

Lately, Robert feels out of place. There is no stability in life at the moment, and now he doesn't know how to protect me, protect me, Alex, Zora, Rigby, and even Cris and Ginger. He would rather I went to a friend's house than take the risk and try to stay in my flat, counting on help in the form of a Minimum Living Income and/or the approval of an application for a project. He doesn't trust, and would prefer to look for a stable and secure place, even if far from what I want. But better bad stability than instability and uncertainty.

Robert was trying to protect Rigby, and is very irritated by her coming out as a trans girl.

Robert simply doesn't like taking risks.

I thank Robert for his commitment to protecting us. And, he got it right many times. But, other times his attempts to protect us have been counterproductive, they have kept us trapped.

Robert can see that the world, my inner world, has changed a lot, and he feels disoriented. Because of this, he hides a lot now. He feels alone, and this whole situation makes him feel even more afraid. But he no longer knows how to protect us, as we have learned not to follow his advice (or rather orders) on many occasions. In addition to the fear, he feels ignored and very lonely. He looks with envy at my community, at the mutual support within my community, but he feels outside this community.

I have started to talk to Robert. It is not easy. He doesn't allow me to get close. He is always ready, ready to run and escape. I talk to him calmly, and sit far enough away for him to feel safe. I tell him I'm not going to approach without his permission. He relaxes a little when I sit down, as he knows I can't approach quickly, that he will always have enough time to escape. I tell him that he doesn't have to be afraid, that I thank him for what he has done for us, and that I love him. I invite him to come home, to his community. But he still can't. He is too afraid.

Alex has joined me. They would like to hug Robert, but, I think, for now even Alex can't get close to Robert. But, from a distance, they show their affection for him, although internally they feel rejected, which then makes it difficult for me and I have to work with Alex.

It's not going to be easy for Robert to relax and start to gain confidence. But, we want to do it. Zora is watching us from afar, but she is too direct for Robert. And, she knows it, that's why she only watches us from a distance.

For me it is another very painful process. Since yesterday I have cried a lot. For Robert. I feel his fear. His pain. And I know I need to do this work of bringing Robert to our home.