🪞 Healing Your Inner Child

This Is What I’ve Learned So Far

One of the hardest things I’ve learned on this journey is that the work is brutal — not the kind you can outsource, but the kind you spend your life avoiding.

For a long time, I didn’t even know what I was avoiding. I blamed everyone and everything else, never thinking that maybe I was the problem.

And then it hit me: I’m responsible for my own happiness.

There isn’t someone “out there” who’s going to love me better than I can love myself.

The point of my life now isn’t to be perfect or to be saved — it’s to be enough.

To love myself so deeply that anyone else’s love is a compliment, not a lifeline.

That realization changed everything, because I could finally see how much of my pain came from avoiding what I already knew deep down but wouldn’t face.

Back to the Beginning

When I started peeling it back, I went to the beginning — my own childhood.

The quiet questions started to surface:

Did I feel loved? Did I feel seen? Was I neglected or ignored? Was there abuse? Bullying? Shame?

All of those experiences shaped the way I spoke to myself as an adult.

They built my inner voice. They built my triggers.

Every trigger I felt was pointing back to something I had believed about myself — something I created to protect myself from pain.

That was the birth of my ego.

The ego wasn’t evil. It was my protector.

A mask my small self built because I couldn’t handle what was happening around me.

It lived in my mind — in logic — always trying to anticipate and avoid pain.

It wanted to make sense of everything.

It tried to keep me from feeling that sting of embarrassment, rejection, or fear.

It was the persona I created to face the world.

And now, at this stage of my life, the work is to see it — to become aware of it — to create a gap between what I think and how I act.

That’s where freedom lives.

Watching Myself

I began to watch my own automatic patterns like a scientist observing a wild animal.

“I need my coffee.” Do I? Or is it just habit?

I wrote down everything I did in a day and started asking:

Was this a conscious choice, or am I on autopilot?

That process was humbling — but it was also the start of becoming conscious of my life.

And when you get there, when you finally ask yourself, “How the fuck did I get here?” — that’s when you stop drifting.

That’s where you begin to clear the baggage.

That’s where you start to reparent your inner child.

That’s where I started.

The Physical Work

For me, the first work wasn’t emotional — it was physical.

Meditation. Yoga. Pranayama.

Slowing my mind down.

Learning to sit still and watch my thoughts.

I started to see how my ego survived by thinking, planning, organizing — pulling from the past to avoid mistakes and projecting into the future to avoid pitfalls — all while missing the only real thing that exists: this moment.

And so, the real key became this:

If life is only happening here, in this moment, then the only way to live it joyfully is to create it consciously.

Not out of fear. Not out of old programming.

Out of clarity.

Happiness Isn’t a Hunt

It’s humbling to see how wrong we got happiness.

It isn’t something you pursue.

It isn’t a hunt or a prize.

It’s an environment you create by being present in your choices.

The more I do things consciously, the more happiness exists as a state around me.

It’s not found, hunted, or chased.

It’s the result of showing up for myself, again and again, with awareness.

That’s why this site exists — not to hand out easy steps, but to show the real work.

Because it’s not easy.

The world’s in the condition it’s in because this kind of work is rare.

But I’ve chosen differently.

I’ve chosen to become.

Wherever I stand today, I’ve survived everything I’ve been through.

This life — the one I’m living right now — is mine.

And as hard as it’s been to admit, no one else is responsible for it.

Not anymore.

I Didn’t Just Read the Book — I Let It Break Me Open

There’s a book that found me when I was finally ready to stop running —

How to Do the Work by Dr. Nicole LePera.

I didn’t just read it. I went through it — cover to cover, pause to pause, journal entry to tear-stained page.

And when I say it cracked me open, I mean I cried for days. Hours at a time.

I had no idea how much trauma my body had been carrying — not until I gave myself permission to actually feel it.

Really feel it.

No distractions. No masks. No stories. Just truth.

I had years of emotional weight packed deep inside me, and it was time to let that shit go.

It was holding me back — tight in my chest, frozen in my gut, running my life from behind the scenes.

Dr. LePera didn’t give me answers.

She handed me mirrors.

She gave me a workbook — and space to finally sit with what I had been avoiding most: me.

I didn’t analyze it — I processed it.

I wrote. I stayed with the discomfort. I let the tears come without rushing to fix anything.

And every time I thought I was done, something else surfaced.

It wasn’t comfortable.

But it was necessary.

What Came Next

Once I finished How to Do the Work, I went deeper.

She also wrote:

• How to Be the Love You Seek

• How to Meet Yourself

But I wasn’t ready for those until I cracked open the first one.

That one prepared me. Stripped me bare. Made space for what was next.

A companion on that part of the journey? Louise Hay’s Love Yourself, Heal Your Life.

That book brought me to the mirror.

And it taught me how to say, out loud, to myself:

“I love you.”

“I trust you.”

“You’re safe now.”

It didn’t feel natural. It felt awkward as hell.

But I kept saying it.

And slowly, something softened inside me.

This Is the Work

This is the ugly, sacred work.

The kind no one applauds because no one sees it.

But you feel it — in your bones, in your breath, in the stillness of the night.

This is the work I’m doing.

And I’ll keep sharing it — not because I have answers, but because I’m living through the questions.

I’m not just reading books anymore.

I’m using them to remember who I am —

and to let go of who I never was.

This is my beginning.

This is my Becoming.

🌅 Reflection Prompt

What parts of your inner child still need your attention — not judgment, but love?

What would happen if you finally told that part of you, “You’re safe now”?