innerchildhealing

Dear Little Me,

If you’re reading this, it means we’ve made it further than you thought we could. I wish I could wrap you in my arms right now and let you cry without holding it in, laugh without apology, and dream without someone telling you you’re too much.

There are things I wish I could’ve shielded you from—moments that chipped away at your light. People who didn’t see your worth. Days when you felt invisible, or worse, like a burden. But I want you to know something: You were never the problem. You were just ahead of your time.

You always loved hard, felt deep, questioned everything. And I’m proud of you for that. I’m proud of you for surviving when you didn’t know how. For still smiling in photos when your heart was heavy. For not letting the world break you—even when it tried.

I still carry parts of you inside me. The playful, curious, emotional, wild little spark that just wanted to be seen and safe. I’m learning how to take care of us both now.

And maybe most importantly… I forgive you for everything you thought you did wrong. You were doing the best you could with what you had—and that was more than enough.

Walk with me. We’ve still got places to go.

I don’t know where home is yet. Not really. But I believe it’s out there. Not just four walls and a roof—but a feeling. A breath. A place where my heart can stop clenching and my body can finally exhale. I don’t know what it looks like, or who will be there waiting. But I believe I will recognize it the moment I feel safe—not just in my surroundings, but in myself.

Until then, I’ll keep moving. Gently. Boldly. Soft and fierce, all at once.

I’ll keep reaching—not because I’m lost, but because I’m learning how to grow into myself.

We may not know exactly where we’re headed yet,

but I promise—we’re on our way.

With all the love you always deserved,

Me (still searching, still standing, still full of fire—and never giving up on us)

#wordsformyyoungerself #dearyoungerme #healingjourney #innerchildhealing #becomingme #Selfcompassion #stillstanding #iammysafeplace #resilienceinbloom #traumasurvivor #survivingandthriving #reclaimingmystory #becomingwhole #homeisafeeling #findingmywayback #rootedinhope #ThisIsHealing #growingintomyself #letterstomyself #writingtoheal #memoirinprogress #heartonthepage #walkingwithher #wordsformyyoungerself #handinhandwithme #softisstrong #Learningtolovemyself

During one of my podcast episodes, I touched on emotional neglect. Growing up, I personally had to deal with being emotionally neglected and now as an adult, I struggle with certain behaviors.

Growing up I was always made to feel responsible for any of the treatment or the things happening to me. I would hear things like, "if you would just do what I told you the first time Candis!", "Just tell us the truth and you wouldn't be in trouble all the time Candis." , "Your opinion doesn't matter as long as you live in this house.", "I love you because I have to but I don't like the person you are.", "You are not someone I would talk to if I wasn't your dad.", "Are you stupid?", "Don't act like a whore."

In my abusive marriage, I internalized those messages and I had the view that no one else was going to want me so...ya.

In families, emotional abuse can also come off as humor; someone always would seem to have something demeaning to say and everyone around would think that it was funny. As I grew up I did too at my own expense.

As the years went by and my sister and I got older, I would watch my dad and her "gang up" on mom and shut her down. Her opinion and feelings didn't matter. They always had the final say. She never stood up for herself and allowed all of us to walk all over her. She is currently struggling right now and regardless of how much I do not agree with how she is handling things, I get it. Although my opinion on this will piss some people off, I was a bystander watching these things. By no means am I saying I didn't take part in the disrespect, but my mother took a lot of it. She was always so sad and angry when we were young. That's all I really remember her being. My father is very black and white, there's right and there's wrong. Addiction is something he feels is a choice and if someone chooses to go down that road that's on them. My sister turned into the female version of him, only a lot worse. It's weird cause our parents raised us to be this way and now they seem to have a problem with it. The way she would talk to our mother at times disgusted me, but I could be just as bad. Speaking for just myself, my disrespect came from a place of anger when not getting what I wanted or feeling like I wasn't being heard. With my dad and sister, there were times it almost looked like they enjoyed doing it though. They always seemed to have something negative to say to her or they would put her down. Mom had no backbone though, she let both my sister and I walk all over her and she never did anything about it. To live in the home you had to be emotionally strong. My mother and I were not. Voicing your opinion or feelings in that household was a no-no. My sister got angry and mean. Don't get me wrong, she had reasons, but after so many years, I checked out. She was invisible growing up. Everyone knew from a young age she was self-sufficient and she was genuinely a good kid. So no one really worried about her. So much so that, it was like everyone forgot her. We both grew up with behaviors that stem from our childhood. There is a reason we are the way we are.

My views and feelings were always invalidated by, "you're exaggerating Candis" - my truth was never enough. I'm always lying, no matter what I'm saying. What's the point in clearing up the truth anymore? I've spent my entire life defending myself from people who don't listen. So many important people to me were so dismissive of my feelings and concerns that those people started to become not so important to me anymore.

These same people attempted to define how I "should feel" according to them - I would be belittled over the way I chose to heal the parts of me they tore down. I get so angry looking back on those times that my family would look at me and say I was stupid for feeling a certain way over something that genuinely hurt my heart. I have two daughters, so I know how overly dramatic and emotional we are but I have never and will never tell them how they "should" feel about a situation. I watch my youngest daughter go through that with her own father and I hate it. The only emotion that was acceptable was fear. Fear of my parents. Fear of consequences. My mother will tell you to this day that a kid is to be seen and not heard and should be scared of their parents so they won't do wrong. But isn't that how we learn to become productive adults? All I ever wanted was their approval, my dad's approval, but nothing I did was good enough. I finally got to a point where I didn't care about anyone's approval anymore. What good would it do?

One thing I battle within myself is accepting the fact that some people will never tell the truth. Denying having done or said something in question is another form of emotional abuse. I have watched with my own eyes someone lie about something they did and put it off on someone else, with no remorse at all. It's happened to me. There were many times in my life that I dead-faced lied to people, especially out of fear of consequences, but there have also been times that I have genuinely been in the right but was accused and assumed guilty because of who I am. My daughter recently told me that she had a conversation with one of our cousins about how she doesn't get a lot of support now that she is a mom when she was always so quick to help everyone else when they needed it. I'm not entirely sure how it got brought up but something was said along the lines of "you know they are that way because of who your mom is." Are you freaking kidding me?? I don't even know what to say to that crap anymore.

There is a reason why I am distant now, my family and old friends made me be okay with them removing themselves from my life. I learned where I truly stood with a lot of people. So now I have boundaries. Now I have a little more respect for myself. Now I know what types of people I deserve in my life. Now I'm the one to draw the damn line. #TheMighty #Depression #BipolarDisorder #innerchildhealing #Healing #AnxietyDisorder #Childhoodtrauma #MightyTogether #MentalHealth #Addiction

Have you ever wondered why we are so critical and judgemental of ourselves? We self-destruct and self-sabotage in ways that can be scary. Around 13 years old, I first remember feeling different. My every day consisted of feeling like I was invisible and at the same time wishing that I was. Eventually, in my quest to settle the raging anxiety and compulsive urge to be doing something, I turned to drugs and alcohol to drown out the chaos. I started having hypomania symptoms of bipolar 2 in my teens.

When it came to the drugs that I was using and their effects on me, I was happy. For the first time in my life, nothing emotionally or physically hurt anymore. It didn't matter what substance it was, as long as it altered my reality. I hated my reality. I found myself drinking every weekend, getting strung out on meth whenever I could, and making sure that I never dealt with anything sober anymore. I was relieved to have an out for a little bit, but the cycle had begun. I couldn't see any of the hurt I was causing anyone around me or myself. I didn't even think about being addicted to anything. In my mind, I was just having fun and being the life of the part. I was a drug addict before I knew it. That wasn't my intention and that wasn't what I wanted out of my life. I had goals and dreams and wishes. I still loved band and reading and listening to Backstreet Boys. The same girl who loved music and reading and spilling her soul out on paper. The girl who had dreams of being the next "Barbra Walters" or publishing the greatest novel. I was changing though. Something had been transformed within me and I didn't like the person I was becoming.
#TheMighty #BipolarDisorder #Anxiety #selfsabotage #selfdestruct #innerchildhealing

* Trigger Warning *
I wanted to die today. I woke up this morning feeling this overwhelming sadness that enveloped my entire body. Once everyone left for the day, I sat down in the middle of my living room and sobbed until my body felt like it was breaking into pieces. Today I wanted to die.

Until I started focusing on myself and my own healing and recovery, I hadn't come to terms with the fact that I had no idea how to give a shit about myself. The number of times I have put my sobriety on the line without even realizing it is ridiculous. I was too preoccupied with looking out for everyone else and making sure they were okay. My therapist says that's a coping mechanism for me. I've been like that since I've been a child because it appeared to make things easier if I just concentrated solely on others and tried to avoid potentially difficult situations among family or friends. I suppose that worked for me at the time, but I'm not sure I understand how to meet my own mental and emotional needs now.

There are significant turning points in all of our lives when we begin to see ourselves differently. Those moments can irrevocably change the course of our lives. Before that moment happened to me, all I remember is being carefree and happy. I only have a few memories from my early childhood. My last goodbye to my grandmother, the way her house smelled, the way it looked, and the way I crawled up in the bed with her. I had no idea what dying meant. I remember being adopted by my father. As we were walking out of the judge's room, I looked up and asked him if I could call him my dad now. 35 years later I still remember how happy I was to finally have my very own dad. Most of my childhood memories are sporadic at best, and I'm beginning to doubt my reality of it all. When I sit and think about everything, I wonder if, on some other level, I'm being shielded from some type of terrible pain. In our household, I had a father that didn't like me very much and a mother that checked out long before. She never stood up for herself and she didn't stand up for me in those moments that I needed her most #misunderstoodchaos #MightyTogether #MentalHealth #BipolarDepression #Addiction #AddictionRecovery #BipolarDisorder #Anxiety #innerchildhealing

Sometimes the grief I feel over everything I didn’t have as a child becomes visceral and it makes it hard to breathe.

My inner child is screaming for love, for comfort, for validation.

I will do everything in my power to make sure my children will never question their worth. 🌻

#innerchild #innerchildhealing #PTSDawareness #PTSDAwarenessMonth #Trauma #traumainformed #childhoodtrama #childhoodsexualabusesurvivor #Survivingchildhoodtrauma #Ptsdrecovery #TraumaRecovery