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Case from Practice

Once in a session, I observed how a client was doing the very thing we almost all love to do. It always looks as if, having realized something, we must immediately rush to do something with ourselves. What exactly – unclear. Whether it is needed at all – unknown. But it was impossible for this client to endure even a small pause, sitting in thought or even confusion. Shame pushed her into the familiar circle of fuss, not allowing her to experience the feeling of inadequacy next to me.

“Which version of yourself can you not tolerate at this moment? From which self do you need to quickly escape?” I asked.

“The one who doesn't understand, the stupid, the slow one.”

“And what would happen in our contact if you said you needed time to think? At that moment, you would be exactly equal to yourself: you don't understand and you need time. That would be you – exactly as you are at that moment.”

“Firstly, that is very strange. How can you just say you don't understand yet? And secondly, I'm sure that the way I am is not enough. That I didn't try hard enough and am giving a bad result.”

“So, you're sure that for me the way you are is not enough? And what do you think I want instead?”

“Well, you want me to develop, work on myself. After all, therapy is needed for positive changes.”

“So, it turns out that I'm supposedly interested in you being someone else, constantly remaking yourself for me?”

“It sounds strange now, but yes, I'm sure that is how it is. After all, therapy is a place where I should heal and become normal.”

“And is that what you want? To come here and learn to be even better at not being yourself so that I would consider you normal?”

“Uh…” the client got confused. “No. I think I want something else…”

“What would a more resonant need sound like?”

“Probably, I want to learn to be myself more.”

“And if you fantasize, what would be a truly good result of our therapy?”

“So that I wouldn't remake myself but could be here more as I am. But it is terribly scary!”

“Oh yes! It is a real challenge: to build the puzzle of our relationship not around the version of yourself you are tired of being, but around the one you already are.”

“I'm curious. I really want to try to be here as I am. And I want you to help me, without remaking me…”

The Helper of the Self – Grandiose Narcissism

Thus, we reach the part where we will start exploring normal childhood narcissism in the process of the child's growth. On the one hand, the Self has great strength, because it, like a small sprout breaking through asphalt, withstands enormous tension so that we can become ourselves. That is, it is simply forced to cling to the environment, feed on its responses, and “pass through” parental programs. But on the other hand, at the beginning of the journey, the Self is vulnerable, because it does not yet have a solid structure. Its fragility is not weakness but a natural state, reminding that potential requires development and any growth requires care, time, and favorable conditions.

The fragility of the Self is explained by its dependence on the outside world. In the first years of life, it develops through responses: warmth, love, smiles, care. Every confirmation that we are seen and accepted adds strength to this fragile structure. But the slightest coldness, a harsh word, a lack of attention can leave invisible cracks. This does not mean that the Self is easily destroyed, but if the blows are significant, they leave a mark.

At the start, we have no ready-made supports giving stability. No experience inside to say: “It is unpleasant, but you can handle it.” Everything we experience seems final, boundless. Every separation from the mother is perceived as a loss forever. Every glance full of disappointment feels like a threat to existence itself. The Self is only learning to endure such experiences, but at the early stages they are too heavy.

And at this point, narcissism becomes a faithful helper of the Self. It has three main tasks. The first one – creative. Here narcissism works to assemble our image of ourselves. Gradually, in its “narcissistic piggy bank”, it collects reflections, responses, evaluations, opinions, and beliefs about our Self. Over time, from the mirror functions of the environment, we get our personality at our disposal. We begin to understand ourselves better, to navigate our inner world more clearly.

Throughout life, narcissism leads the Self to the best realization of its potential. Of course, I am talking now about the healthy variant.

The second task of narcissism – protective. And it deserves separate discussion.

Protective Narcissism

In the imperfect world we grow up in, we are constantly influenced by many negative factors. Irregular support, insufficient responses, reactions of the environment that we do not like – all this is normal and inevitable.

And in a world full of mysteries and potential threats, grandiose narcissism gives us our first refuge. It is a way to preserve our Self when the psyche is still too fragile to withstand reality as it is.

Imagine a newborn having an invisible cocoon, where they feel omnipotent. The cocoon gives them the illusion that everything in the world happens according to their wishes.

The mother in it is not perceived as a separate person. She is part of an all-powerful world that is always close at hand, always protecting, always giving. For the baby, this is the only way to feel safe. The world is too big, too bright, too noisy. Any sudden sound, a cold stream of air, or a delay in an adult's response can be perceived as a threat to existence itself. Grandiose narcissism helps not to notice these threats, creating the illusion of complete control: “Mom is here because I wanted it. The world is safe because I control it.”

If this illusion did not exist, the baby would face the truth that they are not yet able to survive: that they are vulnerable, dependent, and the world is not always predictable. This full encounter with reality will happen later – when their psyche is ready to bear the weight of reality. But for now, the cocoon of grandiose narcissism protects them from the catastrophe.

And of course, the described ways of functioning of infantile narcissism are healthy and natural for the child's psyche. They inspire the child with more power, omnipotence, and deny reality, where anything can happen. Such egocentrism and even egoism are normal for the first stages of development; both are intended for the accumulation of psychic investments from the environment into our Self.

Narcissism simply cannot allow our psyche to remain fragile and vulnerable in front of a world we do not control.

That is its role at these stages.

Problems begin later, when, in cases of systematic or sharp frustrations and traumas, narcissism places us in the saving cocoon of its defenses, continuing to do everything described above. Then we grow up but continue to believe that omnipotence is normal. Or that we can be so valuable as to be liked by everyone and always. Or that if we invest more in our personal growth, problems will not affect us, because we can anticipate and regulate everything.

Narcissism in this case does not mature into an adult form, remaining in its infantile state. We seem to regress to the protective function that it continues to perform for us, believing that otherwise, we simply would not be able to endure adult reality. And in some ways, it is certainly right…

Afterword to Chapter Two

Each of us begins our journey in life as a true little narcissist. And this is not an insult but, perhaps, the healthiest start one could imagine. At the beginning of the path, we know nothing about boundaries, about reality, or about the fact that someone or something can exist separately from us. Our world revolves solely around our grandiose Self.

This is a natural way to survive in a world that is still too big for us. Little narcissism creates the illusion of omnipotence, which protects the fragile Self. At this stage, the parent is a function, serving as a support, a container, a regulator, and everything else. Their love is the natural psychological “nourishment” for our Self.

In conditions of such total dependence, it is simply impossible to allow ourselves to prematurely encounter the terrible truth that the parent is not our property, that they can leave, turn away, be unavailable. Little narcissism soothes: “Everything is under control; the world obeys you.” Yes, it is a denial of reality, but it is not a weakness – it is a tremendous strength. Precisely thanks to it, our psyche has time to grow stronger before facing reality.

Grandiose infantile narcissism is only the beginning. The illusions it creates serve as a temporary support until our Self gains its own strength. Our internal world begins to be built, to grow more complex, accumulating its own supports, which will remain with us throughout life.

In the third chapter, we will dive into the fascinating process and look at the creation of psychic structures. It will be a journey from the chaos of first impressions to the construction of internal organization, which will allow us to deal with reality without losing connection to ourselves. We will see how the participants of internal performances are formed: the Instinctual Self, the Inner Parent, and the Adult, who will continue to develop throughout life. We will learn how from the first impulses, reflections, and interactions with the world something amazing is born – our personality.

It is precisely what we need love, care, tenderness, and attention for. They are, of course, wonderful and pleasant in themselves. But the task of the Self is to become something greater than just the potential of a newborn soul. Therefore, it takes the Supports of the Self in one hand, the grandiose narcissism in its protective armor in the other, and, “bathing” in the ocean of relationships with parents, it swims out to its own shore. Where one day it stands firmly on its own feet…

Chapter Three
The Birth of the Psyche and the First Transition

Two Kingdoms for the Emergence of a Little Self

Ayn Rand once wrote: “To say 'I love you,' one must first know how to say the 'I'.”² From the point of view of the psyche, this is astonishingly accurate.

In order for our attractions to be directed outward, toward someone as a truly separate person, we must first come into existence for ourselves.

But not automatically – only through becoming valuable and important to those close to us. It is precisely for this that our narcissism works so hard, for us to be able to say “I”.

If we could imagine our psyche as a magical world, then for the task of creating a Self, we would need two “kingdoms”, two realms. Only together do they create the conditions for us to not just exist but to feel alive, valuable, and, most importantly, able to be in relationships with the world.

1. The Narcissistic Kingdom – a place where the energy of life bubbles, where our attractions reside. The force that seeks out the parent not only to survive but also to find itself. A place where we first begin to feel, experience, and realize our Self.

Here everything is built on reflections. Parents and close ones become mirrors in which we see ourselves. When a little boy proudly builds a tower of blocks and looks at his mother with bated breath, he is awaiting her reaction. If his mother smiles, hugs him, and says, “What a good boy! That is amazing!” he sees his reflection in her eyes. His world fills with light, and the Self is strengthened. The child feels: “I exist. I am important. What I do matters.” This mirror gives him confidence in his own value.

But what if the mother turns away or coldly remarks, “Scattered your toys again?” The child sees no reflection and begins to doubt: “Maybe I'm not good enough? Maybe what I do doesn't matter?” These early scars on the Self can stay for a lifetime, breeding inner doubts and a sense of emptiness.

However, if the psyche remains only in the narcissistic kingdom, we become trapped in relationships with ourselves. In this domain, people are perceived merely as functions: they must support us, validate our importance.

For our Self to develop, narcissism must connect us with other people.

To achieve this, the psyche builds a bridge leading to the Object Kingdom – a space where external connections become more than just sources of reflection or other functions serving our Self. This bridge is built through interactions with parents who not only reflect us but also show that being in a relationship is safe.

2. The Object Kingdom – the realm of relationships where the energy meets the parent and later, other people. A place where we learn to build bonds and feel closeness. If the first kingdom helps us to see ourselves, the second teaches us that we are not alone in the world; there are others beside us. Here, it is not praise and admiration that are crucial, but reciprocation, understanding, and acceptance. Imagine a little girl who falls and scrapes her knee. She runs to her father, hoping for comfort. If he sits down beside her, takes her hand, and says, “That hurts, doesn't it? But I'm here. It will pass…”, the girl feels that her pain and fear matter. She understands that her feelings have a right to exist and that someone is there to share them. The kingdom of connections grows, strengthening her confidence that she is not alone.

But if the father says, “Don't whine, it is nothing,” the girl is left alone with her pain, feeling unneeded and rejected. The realm of relationships turns into a land populated by grim shadows, from whom it is useless to seek help, connection, or hope, with whom one cannot share one's feelings. Thus, she learns to keep her attractions to herself, not to give them to those who cannot respond.

Notice: our narcissism seeks reflections, admiration, and recognition.

But not for the sake of greatness and magnificence themselves.

It is to allow a Self to be born, to grow stronger, and to begin to differentiate from others, finding its full uniqueness. If creating psychic structures required that no one paid attention to us, then normal narcissism would “erase” us for the world. If building an inner world required that the mother only stayed silent in response to our emerging feelings and experiences, then somehow, it would have responded to that too.

Yes, we crave attention, interest, and praise. But what if we do not get them, and within us the magical birth of a Self never occurs?

Dialogue Between the Worlds

The narcissistic and object worlds work inseparably, playing a key role in forming a Self and maintaining inner balance. They complement each other, performing different but interconnected tasks.

Narcissistic energy keeps us afloat, helping us not to fall apart when life does not go the way we wish.

The object domain teaches us to endure the reality where things are not perfect. Through it, we begin to understand that disappointments are not the end of the world but simply a part of life.

Narcissism reminds us that we are valuable, teaching us to believe that we are worthy of love and attention. The object world nudges us toward empathic understanding of others, reminding us that there are people nearby who also feel, desire, and sometimes make mistakes, just like us.

In the narcissistic kingdom, we receive protection in painful moments. When we are wounded by rejection or disappointment, it gently wraps us in fantasies or devalues what has become too painful. While in the object kingdom, the world is shown to us as it is, connecting us to reality, helping us to not get lost in our fantasies and see people and things as they truly are, not through the prism of our expectations.

In the narcissistic world, we hear the call of dreams, find inspiration – those images that inspire us to strive for something greater. Sometimes, though, narcissism becomes too carried away with the ideal and forgets reality. Then the object world gathers everything into a whole picture. Thus, what we experience inside connects with what happens outside, creating a complete story about ourselves.

As a result of the dialogue between these two kingdoms, our psyche emerges, capable of independently handling different tasks and functions.

Drawing resources from the object world, narcissism invests them into strengthening the sense of Self. Gradually, we move from dependence on others to relying on ourselves. And later, while remaining ourselves, we turn toward others, exchanging attractions and energy with them.

And only this way.

No psyche and its maturity ever emerge solely from the might of one's own grandiosity without exchange with the environment.

This is a normal process of growing up for magnificent, incredible, unique – or most ordinary, psyches.

Formation of Psychic Structures

If we continue the metaphor where the Self is a little star that came into being so that we could become ourselves, then at first it does not know how to shine and learns this from the Supports of the Self. It needs its own psychic structures, which should become a kind of a “cosmic shell”, helping it to interact with the world. These structures in the psyche provide us with the ability to perceive and process information, regulate ourselves, react to external events, and build relationships with others. Without them, our little star might get lost in the boundlessness of inner chaos or simply fail to fully manifest its ability to shine, remaining invisible. Translated into psychological language, we would stay in the world of pathologies and psychosis.

As we grow and develop, psychic structures are created through relationships with parents, teachers, friends – those who help us realize our value and capabilities. Our environment, like stars in the sky, guides the way and strengthens our inner confidence.

At the beginning, while we are still in the narcissistic realm, our psychic structures are not fully formed, but each is already starting to perform its unique task. This is a world where there are no clear boundaries between a Self and “others”, and each part of the psyche works under conditions of total dependence on the responses from the outside world. Here, the structures act not as fully developed tools but more like scattered, still forming drafts of what will eventually become our psyche. Let us take a closer look at each of them.

The Instinctual Self

This is a volcano of energy erupting with desires and needs. It knows no doubt or limitation: everything must happen here and now. If a child wants to be fed, hugged, or heard, their desire sounds like a demand. But despite its strength, the Instinctual Self is fragile. It does not tolerate refusals, because refusal is perceived as a threat to existence itself. It does not yet know how to wait or adapt. Its task is simple: to demand and to obtain.

The Inner Parent

At the very beginning of life, we do not yet have an autonomous element of our psychic structure called the Inner Parent. It is still forming from the projections of the signals we receive from our parents. If adults are kind, patient, and consistent, the Inner Parent acquires a soothing and supportive voice. But if the parent is cold, harsh, or unpredictable, we internalize messages like “You are not good enough” or “Your feelings don't matter”. These early sketches of the Inner Parent can become either a resource or a source of inner tension for us.

The Inner Adult

In the narcissistic realm, the Inner Adult is still “offline”, that is, they do not yet perform their functions. This part of the psyche requires awareness of boundaries and the ability to withstand reality, but in the narcissistic realm, such skills have not yet developed. As long as the child lives in a world where the boundaries between their desires and reality are blurred, the Inner Adult watches over this chaos, waiting for their time, as a potential that is only gaining strength. With the support of our close ones and over time, they are to take a leading place in our inner reality.

At the stage of the narcissistic realm, the psychic structures do not operate as a mature system. The elements within it are not yet a coordinated team but rather a set of players, each trying to cope with the world in their own way under conditions of dependence on response, warmth, and acceptance.

The Real and Ideal Self during this period

Alongside the Self within us, there are potentially two other parts, two aspects of our personality: the Real Self and the Ideal Self. In the first three years of life, they form in close connection with each other to ensure the integrity of our psyche in the future.

The Ideal Self in early childhood is not the grandiose construction we see in adults, but rather the feeling of what we can be in order to be loved. These are the first glimpses of striving for approval, shaped according to what parents value and encourage. For example, if the mother smiles when we sit quietly, the Ideal Self may incorporate the image of a calm, obedient child. If the father rejoices when we laugh loudly, the model of the Ideal Self will adjust. At this stage, our Ideal Self is not yet a rigid form, but fragments of what we would like to be to deserve warmth and attention.

The Ideal Self is also a defense. The Ideal Self helps us cope with anxiety when the Real Self encounters coldness or judgment. When the Real Self feels, “They don't love me like this”, the Ideal Self offers an alternative: “But they will love me like that”. However, if anxiety becomes too frequent, the child begins to drift further away from themselves, trying to adapt to expectations.

The Real Self in the first three years of life is absolute, immediate experience of oneself. The child knows no filters or doubts. When they are thirsty, they want a drink right now. When they are afraid, they scream with fear, and that is their only truth at the moment. The Real Self lives in sensations, emotions, and bodily needs. The Real Self does not yet compare or criticize; their task is simply to be. The child exists in a living, open state that seeks reflection and confirmation in the eyes of a close adult.

Only the Real Self gives us the sense of authenticity of ourselves and our life. It is through encounters with the parent as a mirror that we are given everything that we will later experience and consider to be ourselves. By naming what happens to us, the mother labels states, feelings, thoughts. By reacting to us, she simultaneously tells us what Real Self exists within us. Our entire inner world, including self-attitude and self-evaluation, emerges precisely from such reflections.

Or does not emerge – which gives rise to those very experiences of emptiness and unreality that most people later complain about. We will talk about this in more detail in the following chapters. For now, I will only say that it is exactly the way many of my clients end up disconnected from their inner world and their Real Self. They poorly navigate it and do not understand how they can manifest or express themselves at all.

I have explained all this only to illustrate how many people are not even aware that their Self is always actively present. We are not used to noticing it or considering it something meaningful, to sharing it with someone. Once the loss of one's Self becomes obvious and discovered in therapy, a person at least begins to suspect the scale of the loss. Usually, it happens after the client has allegedly “solved” all their problems and no longer needs a functional reason to justify their need for contact. And that is when the most interesting part begins. We can observe how exactly the person builds contact. Or does not build it, but endlessly interrupts and regulates themselves – which happens much more often.

And this is the real reason why a person comes to therapy.

Situational problems and difficulties are just the upper, visible layer.

Of course, a person comes for themselves – for the restoration of connection with their true Self and for learning the ways in which they have been preventing this Self from coming out.