16/06/2026
, silence, and what emerges underneath
I was reminded recently why I love this work.
What can appear as silence or withdrawal between sessions can so easily be understood as avoidance or disengagement. Yet when we are able to stay with it together, something much more human begins to emerge.
We often meet younger parts carrying feelings of powerlessness, anger, fear, loneliness, and not being understood.
At times, it can feel as though there are more than just two people in the room. Alongside the adult client and myself there may be a younger, more vulnerable part — sometimes a 4-year-old sulking self — hurt, quiet, and deeply misunderstood.
When we gently make space for this, what initially looks like resistance can begin to make sense as a protective response from a part of self that once felt overwhelmed and alone.
Moments like these remind me how easily we can misunderstand withdrawal in ourselves and others. Beneath it, there is often a story that longs to be understood.
If you recognise this in yourself, you’re not alone.
I am also mindful of how familiar this can be in many relationships — with ourselves, as therapists, supervisors, partners, or parents. Sometimes we withdraw. At other times, we are left wondering what has happened between us, unsure whether to reach out, wait, or let go.
I continue to be moved by the courage it takes to turn towards what feels difficult and to stay in relationship with it.
These moments remind me why I love this work.