Working With My Inner Child: How I Became the Adult I Always Needed

“The person you are today is who your younger self would’ve felt most comfortable with.”

This is a recently trending TikTok about how you’ve grown up to be the person your childhood self has always needed. To me, this touches on the portion of myself that has gone through inner child work. I had to build a safe place for the 3-year-old me who desperately needed help.

When I was creating this safe world for my younger self, she didn’t ask for too much. She didn’t speak at all actually and has not to this day. She wanted a small space, just somewhere she could curl up. I brought toys in for her, I brought coffee, blankets, everything I could think that she would want.

Then, my therapist talked about how much anxiety I had as a child and what part of that could be soothed. I never felt safe. I brought in a plastic army man that came to life, “Toy Story” style, as large as the ceiling. I called him my bazooka man. He would stand in the doorway while she was tucked securely in the corner. It brought so much comfort to me that my three-year-old self had someone protect her, a larger-than-life figure that could stare deep into someone that could harm me.

One of the important aspects of inner child work is allowing them to heal themselves. You cannot force it. Guided by my therapist, I invited my young self into my safe space we created years ago. She came through while clutching her panda stuffed animal that my stepdad gave me when I was 10. Remember this girl is three years old. We sat across from each other. She stared. I stared back. Many sessions were roadblocks, staring at each other and not speaking. I tried, but it seemed like she needed presence more than she needed kind words. But she felt comfortable enough to invade my safe space.

I asked for a hug and she refused. This was something significant because body autonomy was not huge in my family. I reached out a hand, faced open, and asked if she’d prefer to hold my hand. She did not. I asked all these questions, just trying to get through to her.

But it reminds me as a child how much I needed one-on-one time. My body autonomy and my ability to say no would have been a gift as a child, considering some sexual abuse I had experienced. I don’t remember as a child being comfortable being in the same space as adults, especially alone. Even as a young woman, my body feels a small amount of aggression when people touch me without my permission.

My inner child has grown up to the significant age of 6 years old. She stares back with aggression. She breaks pencils when she doesn’t get attention, she has trouble with anxiety, and sometimes she sees colors. These are all small signs of the mental illness that would later develop into something more.

I am reading a book called “Under Pressure” by Lisa Damour and it is about the anxiety epidemic in our generation and the new generation that have to seek healing. I have a large family and I can see some anxiety in my nieces and nephews. I hope they won’t develop the same type of illness as me. I think of my inner child and how she watches — she watches how I handle the situation, and my/her little fists grab my heart each time she sees I am a safe person. I ask questions when people have anxiety. I try to educate myself so I can explain hard emotions, safety, and what anxiety looks like. I see these young teenagers or tweens having severe anxiety and my instinct is always to reach out. I ask if they need a hug. Sometimes it’s a no. Sometimes it’s a yes. Whatever they need from me, I will give.

My 6-year-old self is full of anger, bitterness, and yet she laughs. She is endearing, smiles, full of arguments and passion. She is amazing, fiery, and yet, I feel the most love here.

I dread the day she turns into a teenager. Because man, there is going to be a storm.