Don't abandon the part of you that cares
Why we need to tend to our fear, sadness and love for the world.
It’s been a particularly hard week for anyone who cares deeply about the world and the challenges we face. This election result, and what it means for the United States and for the rest of the world, is a lot to process and metabolise, especially for people working hard to lead progressive change.
The part of us that cares is hurting, a lot. This can be overwhelming and scary, which can lead us to abandon this part ourselves, an entirely understandable response motivated by the need to protect.
In this piece I’m going to outline what this looks like, why it’s problematic, and how instead of turning away, we can console, nurture and challenge ourselves to grow stronger and more resilient. What follows is a guide to reconnecting with the part of us that’s hurting, offering them the compassion and encouragement they need to keep caring and contributing without getting stuck in overwhelm, or overdrive.
Each of our parts longs to belong to the whole. By supporting this caring part rather than pushing them away, we can harness their energy and channel it into meaningful, balanced action. We can transform this vulnerable, often exiled part of us into a source of strength and guidance.
Be kind to yourself as you read and digest. I hope it’s helpful,
Gen 🧡
How do we abandon this part of us?
Here’s some examples of how we might abandon the part of us that cares as a response to the pain and vulnerability we feel, in turn neglecting the opportunity to find insight and wisdom in our emotions. We might have a tendency towards one behaviour more than others, or experience a combination of many, each of us responds differently.
Cynicism and detaching
Allowing ourselves to remain open and hopeful can feel too risky, like we’re setting ourselves up for future pain. To avoid this vulnerability we adopt a mindset of “nothing ever changes” or “it’s all pointless”, which creates an emotional distance from the issue. It can manifest as sarcasm, dismissive remarks or reluctance to engage in meaningful conversations. We numb out the intensity of caring by building a protective wall of skepticism or indifference.
Scarcity and spiralling
Believing there’s not enough time for our emotions, or that they’re not important enough, we dismiss their inherent wisdom. Without processing, they run us from backstage. The “not enough” thinking is a lens applied to everything; not enough people who care as much as us, not enough good leaders, not enough resources, not enough time, I don’t know enough to make a difference, if they win it’s all over, etc. This shows up as anxiety or even panic, it can lead to overwork, burnout and giving up entirely.
Avoidance and escaping
We’re easily overwhelmed by feelings of anger or sadness, so we bury them as quickly as possible. We avoid engaging with the news, in conversations, or activities related to the issue. We put up strong boundaries to it, blinkers on, and immerse ourselves distractions - entertainment, work, travel, anything that allows us to ignore uncomfortable realities and how they make us feel. We pretend this issue doesn’t exist so we don’t have to confront it and feel disappointed or scared.
Fixing and rescuing
We leap into a saviour role as an attempt to regain control because the emotional context makes everything feel chaotic. We’re driven by a sense of urgency to save or fix the situation, often taking on more responsibility than is ours to bear. Because we’re looking for control, not to solve the problem, we lose our curiosity and we offer solutions without listening fully. Our whole system is functioning to alleviate discomfort as fast as possible, so we miss our chance to understand, connect, and respond in a sustainable way.
Why is this abandonment problematic?
These responses are entirely understandable as defence mechanisms to keep us safe from pain and vulnerability. We’re biologically hardwired to behave this way. But as you may already know and experience, they can be problematic for a number of reasons. Most importantly, this abandonment can damage our psychological wellbeing. Here’s some examples of how:
A loss of inner coherence:
When we desert ourselves and our authenticity in these moments, we’re turning our backs on our values, our sense of justice and what gives us meaning. We feel disconnected from our true selves, leading to a sense of fragmentation and unease.
Numbing and emotional disconnection:
To keep this part at bay, we often have to numb ourselves emotionally, which can spill over into other areas of life. This numbing can make us feel detached not only from difficult issues but also from joy, passion, and authentic connection in relationships, diminishing our overall emotional richness.
Increased anxiety and shame
Suppressing this part often comes with feelings of guilt or shame, as deep down, we know we're turning away from something important to us. Over time, these feelings can build up, manifesting as low-level anxiety or even a sense of self-betrayal, which can erode self-esteem and self-compassion.
Loneliness and isolation
When we deny the part of us that cares about larger issues, we also deny a point of connection with others who share similar values. This can lead to a sense of loneliness or isolation, as we’re not engaging in conversations or communities where we feel seen and understood.
Diminished purpose and meaning
Connection to purpose and values is a core source of resilience. When we’re aligned with what we care about, we’re more able to face adversity and bounce back from setbacks. Exiling our caring, fearful part reduces our access to this internal reservoir, leaving us more vulnerable to stress and existential emptiness.
In addition to these personal impacts, when we abandon the part of ourselves that’s hurting, we greatly limit the impact of our work as leaders of change. Here’s some examples of how:
Loss of vision and inspiration
The caring part of us is our greatest source of creative and visionary thinking. When we disconnect from them, our work may lose its power and direction, becoming more reactive and less guided by our long-term vision for change. This limits our ability to inspire others and set a clear path toward transformation.
Reduced capacity for empathy and connection
When we abandon ourselves in our distress, we diminish our capacity to meet others in theirs. Effective leaders connect with others on a human level, understanding and empathising with the experiences of those affected by the issues they seek to change. Abandoning our caring part restricts this empathy, making it harder to build alliances and foster the kind of collaborative spirit necessary for lasting change.
Decreased resilience in the face of challenges
When we abandon our true feelings, we lose an opportunity to develop much-needed resilience for the path ahead. Leading change is often a long and difficult journey. If we can prove to ourselves that we can stay with our pain and disappointment, work through it, and channel it effectively, we are stronger for whatever comes next and our work is much more sustainable over time. Repeated experiences of self-abandonment are an express train to burnout.
Narrower solutions and shallow impact
Disengaging from deep care and rushing to “solve” problems without fully understanding them can lead to superficial solutions or actions that may not address root causes. Our work can become more transactional than transformational, leading to changes that may be short-lived or ineffective in addressing systemic problems at their core.
What can we do instead?
We need to find ways to include this part of ourselves and process their emotions. I’ve designed the following exercise as one way to do this, and the steps can be taken in different ways. You could use them as a journalling exercise, as a discussion guide with a loved one, therapist or coach, you could respond to them creatively by drawing or painting, or you could use them as steps in meditation. This work is probably most powerful when shared with a skilled practitioner.
Some words of encouragement:
Processes like this can seem a bit woo-woo if you’ve not done anything like it before. These steps are inspired by credible research and decades of expertise, you can find plenty of resources cited below. Skeptics: feel the ick and do it anyway!
Don’t do this work when you’re feeling distressed. You’ll be able to work through the emotions and access much richer insights if you’re feeling grounded.
Ground yourself
This work can be really hard. Before you start, take a few deep breaths, get some fresh air and thank yourself for having the courage to explore.
Connect with the part of you that cares
Recognise and connect with the part of you that cares deeply about the issues you’re facing. Imagine their facial expression, their posture and some of the things they might be saying and doing. You could even give them a name or title, and imagine what they’re wearing. Look them in the eye, and see them fully in all their authenticity. Say “hello, how are you doing?”, and listen for their response.
Allow them to be there exactly as they are
It’s one thing to see this part of ourselves, and another thing entirely to accept them. Allow their presence and experience without judgement. Give them permission to feel. Instead of trying to fix or suppress their pain, sit with it for a few moments. Offer them words of affirmation and validation like, “it makes total sense that you’re feeling this way”. Provide a safe space for them to be heard and understood.
Embrace them with curiosity and compassion
Now, turn toward this part with curiosity and compassion, exploring their motivations and concerns. Ask them what they fear, what they hope for, and why they feel so strongly about this issue. Thank them for their courage and dedication, they’re showing up because they believe in something important. Give yourself a hug.
Connect with your wise inner leader
Gently step back from this part and connect with your wise inner leader, your calm, compassionate core. You might want to take a deep breath, change the colour of your pen if you’re journalling, or sit on the other side of the table/room to help you adopt this perspective. Your wise inner leader has the strength and clarity to hold space for all your other parts. Envision them, adopt their body posture and facial expression, embody their spirit. This is you at your best. Recall and summon your strengths.
Console, nurture and challenge
From your wise inner leader, ask the fearful or angry part of you, “what do you need from me?”, and listen for their response. Encourage them to think about anything and everything that would be helpful. Taking each point in turn, offer the wisdom that you have to share in response to their concerns. Read the room: you might not be able to console, nurture and challenge in every situation. Work out what feels best. It might be as simple as saying, “I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way, could you take out some time to look after yourself?”, and/or you could offer, “the values you’ve shared are so important to you. Is there someone you could speak to who shares them too?” If there’s enough energy present, you could even ask “what’s one action you could take this week to channel this emotion in a powerful way?”
What power and beauty do you see in them in this moment? Acknowledge their love for the world, their brilliance, and their capacity to create change in whatever way feels most powerful for them right now.
Close and rest
Don’t underestimate how much energy this requires. You’ve just worked really hard on some heavy stuff! You might want to have a glass of water, eat, lie down, take a walk. Put this work to one side for now and trust that you’ll remember whatever you need to remember from this experience, and that the insights will continue to percolate through. Thank yourself for staying with the part of you that cares, and for having the courage to work through their feelings. Rest.
Connecting inner and outer transformation
So why should we put ourselves through processes like this?
This work is important first and foremost as a route to greater emotional wellbeing, an entirely worthy goal in its own right. In addition, when we reconnect with the part of us that cares, we create a powerful bridge between our inner world and the change we seek in the world around us.
Instead of pushing through, burying or projecting our pain, we can transform it. When we engage with our caring part compassionately, our pain becomes a source of growth, inspiration, creativity and action. We navigate this demanding work with more peace and grace, uncover powers we didn’t know we had, and unlock new possibilities for bold and fulfilling work. We tap into a more authentic and sustained capacity to lead. With this integration, our inner growth becomes one of our deepest leverage points for change, a steady source of guidance helping us show up with clarity, empathy and strength.
The most transformational moments I witness in the coaching chair are when my clients see and stop their self-abandonment, and instead walk alongside themselves in their pain and fear. As we console, nurture and challenge the part of us that cares, we don’t just become stronger, happier people. We become healthier and more impactful agents of change, aligned with our values, and more able to inspire the vision, collaboration, and endurance needed to create meaningful, lasting impact in the world.
If you’ve got this far and found my writing helpful, please hit the 🤍 at the bottom and share this piece with a friend.
I’d love to hear what’s resonated with you, or what you’d add or challenge in the comments!
You can connect with me here on LinkedIn.
Thanks so much for being here 🧡
Resources
I’m fortunate to work in a field of deep, broad and fast-evolving expertise. This post is inspired by the great work of others, including:
The coaching methodologies I’m certified in, Co-Active and Climate Change Coaches.
Richard C. Schwartz’s Internal Family Systems model. Looking forward to learning more about the application of the IFS model to social and environmental change work next year in training with Steffi Bednarek.
- ’s work as a climate/sustainability psychologist, advisor and engagement strategist. Check out her Project Inside Out.
Psychologist, author and teacher of meditation, Tara Brach and her RAIN process.
How you can work with me
Are you ready to unlock more energy and power to make your most creative and courageous moves yet?
I’m a Co-Active and Climate Change Coaches certified coach working 1:1 with people creating systemic change. My approach enables you to lead change with greater impact and wellbeing. I’ll be opening a few coaching spaces in the new year. Find out more by replying to this email or emailing me directly at genevieve@genevievenathwani.com to discuss.
One final thought
Last weekend I went to see Jacob Collier in Lisbon. I’ve no doubt this piece emerged as a result of having his song ‘Little Blue’ in my head ever since. Jacob famously encourages lots of audience participation in his concerts, in fact, he recorded audience choirs singing ‘Little Blue’ during his world tour, including the music in the final version of the song (I prefer the acoustic version).
Singing these words with a few hundred people in Lisbon last weekend was so prescient for what was to come, and what I’d need to help me process, on election day. It’s a much-cherished memory I’ll return to when it all starts to feel too much.
Don't be afraid of the dark
In your heart
You're gonna find a way
To carry the weight of the world
On your shoulders
You're gonna find a way home
Thank you for articulating all these! Have you heard of Virginia Satir’s personal iceberg model? I love using it to go deeper into feelings. Her works was also the inspiration behind IFS.
A powerful piece of insight here and something I feel I’ll come back to. I recognise some of these signs of how we build up walls of defensiveness when facing difficulties in responding to change. thanks for shining a light on this topic.