The Secure Base
Photograph by Annie Spratt
When I reflect on what the kid that was me has said to me, I realize that he’s not just being a little shit. His disappointment towards me isn’t misplaced. It’s true, I’m quite often anxious, I’m quite often scared. This fear and trembling to a certain extent, permeate every way in which I engage with the world. Once the fear and trembling take over, people and the world, become threatening to me. Consequently, this leaves little room for curiosity, exploration, and engagement. Instead, I feel the need to withdraw, I feel the need get to safety. Oddly enough, once I withdraw and get to safety, I am quite often left feeling angry, and resentful, and critical. Of myself and of the world. And so, this entity that is Nikhil Vinodh, oscillates between fear and anger, between anxiety and criticism.
Two different parts of me, two different ways of orienting. And it slowly becomes apparent to me that within me, in every moment, a kid and an adult operate simultaneously. Except that they act in ways which run counter to the images I have in my mind of who a kid and adult ought to be. I imagine a kid as the ideal representation of innocence, joy, curiosity, and spontaneity- unaffected and unimpressed by the constraints of societal norms, biases, prejudices, and expectations. And I imagine an adult as a portrait of stability, confidence, compassion, and trust- someone who acts with a certain degree of care and composure in the face of whatever the world throws at them.
But within me, the kid seems to have taken on a negative extreme. That of fear and worry. Because the world can be a scary place for the kid within me. Big, unknown, uncertain, with these sensory stimuli flying in from every direction, and these ambiguous rules and laws and expectations imposed by looming authority figures. But the world is also incredibly beautiful, and amidst the chaos there is so much room for fun and joy and pleasure and wonder. The kid within me wants to explore. To explore and be curious is in his very nature. But the kid also needs a degree of support and safety to be comfortable in exploring and navigating the big unknown. The kid essentially needs this secure base from where he can move out into the world- rummage around, be playful, get dirty- and then return to when he is done.
This secure base is who an adult is supposed to be for the kid. The adult is supposed to assure the kid that the kid can engage with people and the world without feeling afraid that the world will overwhelm them. Because if and when the world starts to either feel unsafe or overwhelming, the adult will recognize that this is happening, and will pull the kid to safety. The kid needs to know that this will happen. Only then can the kid truly be oriented towards joy, and pleasure, and curiosity. But if the adult doesn’t do this, if the adult isn’t this secure base, then the kid feels scared, worried, unsafe. The kid can no longer trust that the adult will be there to take care of him, or to stabilize his world when the world turns upside down.
And that’s what happened to the kid that was me. From a very early age, parents, school teachers, and the general adult population, reinforced the importance of good grades, good behaviour, good manners. For the kid that was me, academic achievement and obedience to authority and institution became the sure shot path to validation and applause. And it worked for a while. The adults were happy, and so, I was happy. It made me a little sad to see the adults berate other kids for not being “good”. But well, too bad for those idiots, I would think.
But one very fine day, my grades weren’t so good, and I didn’t feel interested in studying, and I thought my teachers were full of shit, and I had a lot more fun performing in a play and reciting a funny monologue. And that’s the day the adults turned on me. Which left the kid that was me feeling very confused. “So wait, I’m not good anymore?”. “No”, came the instant reply. My grades were a sign of failing intelligence, my disinterest in studies a sign of an unsuccessful future, my disobedience a sign of faulty character, and my creative outlet simply a waste of time.
There was little empathy towards my emotional state as I navigated differential equations and salt analyses, little curiosity about what I was interested in learning, and little encouragement towards exploring what I found exciting. The kid that was me found himself in a world where the adults were either critical or boring, and constantly impressing upon me that I would find no place in their world if I didn’t fix the supposed mess that I was in. Of fucking course this terrified the kid that was me. The world became a battlefield, and I had none of the requisite armour. The adults weren’t going to save me, and even those who wanted to, didn’t know how.
I believed that I left my demons behind once I left school. And I did, physically. But I internalized their essence. The critical adults were now no longer around me. They were inside me. I became them. And then it only became easier for me to unleash my tyranny upon the kid that was me. From the fearful, anxious kid, I grew up to become the angry, critical adult. The emotion of anger is only the tip of a large iceberg, under which are submerged feelings of fear, helplessness, pain, and sadness. And since the fear and sadness of the kid are unacceptable emotions in the adult world when things get tough, they take the form of anger and criticism within the adult which are much more acceptable to feel and display.
As an adult, I have not become the secure base; the portrait of stability, confidence, and compassion. How could I, when so many of the adults around me couldn’t be that for me. And so, when the kid within me sees the world today as a scary place, the adult me isn’t able to confidently and compassionately assure the kid that we’ll be fine. Instead, the adult me doubles down on the fear, and retreats from the world. And then after withdrawing, the adult begins to berate the kid within me for being so scared and anxious. What a fucking shame. How the turn tables. The curious and joyful kid became too anxious and fearful to explore the world, and the confident and compassionate adult has turned too critical and resentful of anyone else who is able to do so. So, what do I do now?
