The Inner World

What Is It and Why Does It Matter?

In my opinion, our inner world is who we are without conditioning, myths, biases, or triggers—without everything our parents, society, and life experiences have poured (or programmed) into us. Essentially, our inner world is our pure self—our private space of interests, values, hopes, and whatever nurtures our spirit and sense of well-being. It is something we are born with, shaped by what we are drawn to, what lights our soul, and what resonates with us based on our experiences and current understanding of the world.

Lindsay Gibson, in her book Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents, describes the benefits of exploring and understanding our inner world:

• Inner balance (stability) and resilience
• Self-confidence and a sense of completeness
• Intimacy and secure attachment
• The ability to set boundaries
• A clear sense of life purpose

(You can find my book review here: https://instablog.hu/en/2025/03/26/lindsay-gibson-recovering-from-emotionally-immature-parents-practical-tools-to-establish-boundaries-reclaim-your-emotional-autonomy/)

I completely agree with this. I imagine the inner world as a constant guiding light—something we can hold onto even in our darkest hours. If I see this light within me, I know I can climb out of any abyss, no matter how deep it is, how long it takes, or how many times I fall and have to start over. This inner light keeps me stable, and despite all hardships, it gives me just enough serenity to keep going.

I believe—or at least hope—that most of us are born with an inner world full of light, love, and joy. But as we grow, we begin to realize that the material world—the world we live in—is not always filled with the same light, love, and joy. To survive, we learn to adapt. And in doing so, many of us suppress, forget, hide, shut down, or even completely erase and destroy parts of our inner world.

How Do We Adapt?

Take my own experience as an example. When I was a baby, it was common practice to let babies cry themselves to sleep. So, as an infant, I learned that I had to cope with sleeping alone, that I had to teach myself how to sleep, and that staying silent earned me positive feedback from my parents. I also learned that my needs weren’t important—because no one responded to my crying. Whether I was hungry, thirsty, or just needed comfort, everything was given to me according to a schedule rather than my actual needs.

Experiences like this shaped my early childhood, and later, school reinforced these adaptations. Over time, I became a people-pleaser—doing everything I could to earn praise and positive feedback. And let me tell you, that totally sucked. I’ll probably write a whole post about that soon. 🙂

So, while reciprocity—giving and receiving in relationships—was part of my inner world, I was conditioned to suppress my own needs in favor of others’. That was my way of survival. But this wasn’t my parents’ fault. They simply followed what doctors, health visitors, childcare books, and their own parents had taught them. Maybe they felt that something wasn’t right, but they ignored those feelings—because that’s how society worked at the time. And honestly, even today, we still don’t fully speak or understand the language of emotions.

What was your way of survival when you were a child? 

Breaking the Pattern

I only realized a few years ago—already in my late thirties—that people-pleasing wasn’t the right path. But it took extreme exhaustion and failure to see it.

For twenty years, I worked in meaningless office jobs, always hoping for a promotion that never came. I watched others climb the ladder—sometimes using (or even stealing) my work—and I told myself it was okay because they said nice things and seemed happy with their success.

Then, I burned out. And I burned out hundreds of times in the past twenty years to be exact, when finally I realized I have to change something. 

Did you ever feel the same? Have you ever been there when everything felt like shit? What did you do then?

I decided to turn inward. And when I did, reciprocity knocked on my door. I began building relationships based on balance—not just giving, but also receiving. I dared to say what I needed and wanted and what I could give in exchange. Stability started to take shape in my life.

At first, it was easier to practice reciprocity with animals and plants. For example, I planted a tomato seed, nurtured it with good soil and water, and in return, it gave me beautiful, nourishing tomatoes. This exchange felt right. This was reciprocity.

After that, I began building a connection with dogs. Their hearts felt like a safe place to share my feelings—they accepted and loved me just as I was. And I realized that it should be the same with people—the right people, the ones who truly resonate with me. At the same time, I had to learn to say no to those who didn’t.

The Power of Inner Stability

When you discover and embrace your inner world—when you know what you want from life, what brings you joy, what upsets you, and how your personality works—you develop inner stability and resilience.

Of course, you will still feel sadness, anger, disappointment, or even depression. But these emotions won’t own you. They won’t hold you captive. You’ll regain your balance more quickly because you’ll know your worth and trust your capabilities.

You’ll be able to silence your inner critic.
You’ll appreciate things for what they are.
And most importantly—you’ll know what you can do.

And I’m sure that you can do anything you want. 🙂

Here are some simple and practical questions for exploring your inner world:

• When during your day do you feel most like yourself? What are you doing at those times?
  
• Are there places (real or imagined) where you feel completely at peace? What do they look, sound, and smell like?
  
• What are the small things that reliably bring you joy — like a certain smell, a type of weather, a time of day?
  
• If you could spend a day doing anything you want, without any pressure to be productive, how would you spend it?
  
• Which memories make you smile warmly when you think of them? What do they reveal about what matters most to you?
  
• What are the qualities you admire most in others? How do these reflect the parts of yourself you value or wish to strengthen?
  
• Are there dreams, interests, or hobbies you’ve quietly carried with you over the years, even if you haven’t acted on them yet?
  
• When you imagine a safe space just for yourself, what is inside it? Who, if anyone, is there with you?

There’s no need to answer all these questions at once, or even in full sentences. Sometimes a single word, a feeling, or an image that pops up can tell you more than a long explanation. Let the questions sit with you, and return to them whenever you feel ready. Your inner world doesn’t need to be rushed — it simply needs your quiet attention, one moment at a time.