How to Heal Your Hurt Inner Child

       I was an extremely sensitive child. If you are into astrology, my ascendant is in Pisces, and my Saturn is in Aries, in the first house. I felt everything. I still do feel everything, but I know how to manage my emotions better. Things that children my age were able to brush off and move on from quickly affected me deeply; they stayed in my mind longer than they would in the mind of the average child. I wasn’t really understood either. I am an empath, and not all parents know what to do with one.

         One of the few sentences that I remember my mum always said to me as a child was ‘Rónké̩, o ké̩ra jù, which roughly translates to me being someone who likes to pamper her body and avoid the slightest difficulty. It wasn’t really a compliment, in case you are wondering. My sensitivity to the environment made me a bit withdrawn even till early teenagehood, especially among people who were my own age. I got so devastated many times.

         My sweet mum constantly reported me to Sunday School teachers, and repeatedly called me a “saddist” [I don’t think she knew what it meant; she thought it had something to do with being sad all the time] because I was shy, and I always felt out of place.  Also, I had a lot of low self-esteem issues, especially because it wasn’t that easy for me to express my individuality as it was for other people. There are a lot of retrogrades in my birth chart; a lot of things that need repair and care in this lifetime.

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         Many of us attempt to heal our wounded inner children [who experienced all the chaos and pain, even in settings that others often considered “heavenly”- it has nothing to do with wealth or poverty] by trying to have others heal it for us through love relationships. That’s laughable. It almost never works out. We become possessive, needy, toxic, and out of balance. Love relationships are not avenues for healing heartbreaks and pain. A person should have completed their own healing and attained balance before attempting to unite with someone else romantically, else they’ll be making matters worse. You don’t have to be perfect to love someone, you can’t be perfect anyway, but an imperfect yin and a perfect yang would never form a balanced circle. The other person would get very tired quickly when all they do is take care of your emotional traumas, and they would want a break or a separation at the slightest chance that they get. You would never feel complete on your own (without needing to do this or have that) if these childhood hurts are not properly addressed.

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         So, how do you heal your inner child? Our inner children never die. We grow bigger and learn/experience more things, but who we were when we were 5 or 10 or 15 years old is and will always be a part of us. We may repress all the hurts and disappointments and suffering, but until we properly address them, we will never heal, and not surprisingly, it will affect us for the rest of our lives, consciously or subconsciously.

Heal

REMEMBER

         Think about your childhood. Do this when you are alone and comfortable, at night perhaps, in your bedroom, away from bright lights. Think about everything you can remember. You may listen to this mantra while you do so; I personally enjoy it, and you may too.

         First, think about the good times. The day you were praised for being the best at something. The day your mum surprised you with your first toy car. The day you travelled with your favourite cousin. That sleepover that you enjoyed so much, you practically laughed yourself to sleep, because you were so sleepy, yet, you were having so much fun. Do this for as long as you can. Don’t be distracted by the negative thoughts yet. Go over and over all the good ones.

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SORT YOUR MEMORIES

         The next step would be to list the things that you can remember from your childhood that really hurt. Don’t dwell on them. That is not the point of this exercise. You may feel the pain, that is expected, but don’t be the pain.  The time you were bullied or made fun of. The time your parents’ marriage came to an end and you were confused. The time your uncle passed away. The time you felt unsafe. The time someone called you a monkey. The time you were not played with because of your tribal marks. The time you were publicly embarrassed. The time your father called you an idiot. The day your mum had an accident. The day you were beaten. The day you felt cheated. It’s okay to cry. Remember, don’t be the pain. Don’t start to build up resentment and hatred. Detach. You may jot these experiences down, but you don’t have to. You may feel the urge to stop this exercise but try not to.

LET GO

         The next step is to consciously let the pain go. Forgive those that you need to forgive, although it may be hard. Let everything that is holding you back and affecting you negatively now, whether you realize it or not, go. You may imagine that your young self is swimming in a lake, away from all the pain. You may visualize that your young self is covered with a bright light, and all the pain is escaping through their forehead. Visualize letting all the pain and hurt and resentment go. Don’t hold on to it. Why do you want to hold on it? What purpose does it/would it serve to you? What gain do you intend to acquire by holding on to resentment, distrust and pain? I understand that it hurts, and it is not so easy, but let it go. Let all of it go.

ADOPT AND HEAL

         When you have done this, visualize holding your young self in your arms or holding their hands, adoring them, acknowledging their pain, feeling everything that they felt. Adopt this young self, this young you, as if they were your child. You know everything that they’ve been through. You know where they lived as a child. You know what happened when they were 6. You know this child better than anyone does and ever will. So, the best and only person that can adopt and heal this child is you. You know about all the love that he never felt, and how hard it was for her. It is now your responsibility to take care of him or her. The big question is: are you going to continue to remind him of all the negative experiences that he had, and all the pain that she has gone through, or are you going to help him or her move on from it and embrace healing and relief? Now that he has been found, and she is before you, what do you intend to do about this child? How do you intend to make it up to him or her? How do you intend to make her feel beautiful, and love her? How do you intend to help him express his artistic abilities and assist her with expressing her passions? How do you intend to give this hurt child a voice? You owe it to him/her; nobody else owes this child anything except you. Nobody. Do you remember the day the day she was ridiculed? How do you intend to honour her and help her heal? How do you intend to make him feel naturally handsome or help her feel appreciated? 

         It is now up to you to make the right decisions, to nurture and honour your inner child. Remember, if you need to discuss with me further or you need a free reading, you can always reach out to me.  Love, light, and healing!

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The Lady and the Seer

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A lady went to a seer to talk about the one she loved, whom she wasn’t with anymore. She said to the seer, “I miss him. I wonder if he misses me. I wonder if he’s coming back. I’m so depressed, I don’t know what to do with myself.”

The seer said “okay”, and looked away. Of course, that wasn’t a satisfactory response for the lady. 

She said “I miss him” and “I wonder if he’s coming back” again, hoping to get some sympathy, and maybe some insight into what the future held for her.

Then he replied, “I’m sure you do, I’m sure you wonder”.

“Well, do you have any advice for me?”, she said, after two minutes had passed, two heavy minutes that felt like 30.

“I don’t have any”, he said. “You choose to miss him, so allow yourself to miss him. Be true to yourself.” The he adds, “but ask yourself, how long are you going to do this for?”

She broke into tears, and he took a step back. 

“Who is in charge of you?” Who controls what happens up there?”, he asked, pointing to his head. 

“I do”, she replied.

“Who is in charge of your mind, your body, your self? Of course, missing him and letting yourself be miserable is what you’re choosing to do, what do you expect me to do, become you? Do you think I have any power over you? Do you think of yourself as a robot that has to be controlled by someone else to survive/function?”

She stopped crying and wiped her tears.

“If you want to choose to miss him, miss him. If you want to choose to be in denial, and wait for something that isn’t coming, wait. If you want to choose to move on and do something good with yourself, do it. It’s not my business or problem. You’re choosing to do something and asking me to help you stop. Ultimately, you get to choose whether or not you want to suffer, and if suffering is what you have chosen to do for this long, so be it. You’re a wonderful soul; don’t be so dense. Healing is a choice- choose it.”

Venus in “Deadtrograde”

A plate of pain keeps
the potential heartbreaker away.
Two glasses of my old tears daily
will help me not go astray.
I am strong and I need no one’s attention,
but I want to be desired,
and I want affection,
but I was hurt,
I don’t want a repetition,
but I want love,
and I can feel the tension.

I don’t cry.
I don’t cry anymore because
there’s a pool of my tears
in my heart,
and I like to swim in it,
or go down, down, down,
and drown,
when a potential One
comes too close
to my feelings’ flat.
If anyone is to decide when I drown,
it has to be me, myself and I.
Would you give another potential
pretentious,
manipulative
dingbat
a chance to decide when you die?

Six planets are in retrograde
in my natal chart,
and venus used to be one of them,
but she’s not anymore.
My venus is dead;
a man has stabbed my sickly venus to death.

Wounded Healer III

Goddess of Forests

I’m shedding everyone’s tears
but I can’t shed my own.
I’ve got it all under control in public;
I’m a mess when I’m alone.
Pain has injected itself into me;
I can feel it bite through each bone.
I’m decaying on the inside,
but this body is not mine to disown.

My heart and soul are drowning,
and I can’t stretch my hands
to reach them through my throat.
They’ve absorbed too much;
they’re heavy,
but I can’t save them.
I can’t drain the tears and blood;
I can’t heal them.

So, I’ll shed my tears through my mouth.
I’ll cry with my hands and feet,
with my words,
and with my songs,
and with my dance,
till I feel my heartbeat.
I’ll shed my tears as sweat;
they can’t pass through my eyes just yet.

Dead Love II

You didn’t fall out of love with me.

My heart’s legs are badly injured;
yours look intact to me.

You pushed me out of it;
you took “me” out of “we”.

Broken

Laughing in pain,
slowly going insane.
Hiding the stain,
praying for rain.
Ignoring the knife,
pleading for a new life.
I’m breathing in death,
desperate for rebirth.

Transform Your Pain for Healing

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When we die- when a strong change befalls us, it’s up to us [choice] to struggle to find balance again. When we choose light, we become a light ourselves.

Remove the cover;
let your pains escape.
Mold them into words and music;
anything you might be inspired to make.
Let their flow lead you to be river;
take as long as you need to take.
Be willing to swim, let go and heal;
be open to new changes in shape.
Don’t cover;
choose to recover
for your very own sake.

You’ll be surprised at how creative you can become when you are angry, in pain, when everything within you just hurts. The high level of joy that whatever you make/achieve will bring to you if you choose to heal through it, by not just ignoring the pain but by expressing it, is immense. Find relief, satisfaction and happiness in/through (not despite) your agony.

Unrequitedly Requited

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“African Woman” by Konstantin Yegorovich Makovsky [Oil Painting]

“I love you.”

My heart froze, but not out of fear. It was beating very quickly, and I could have sworn it was having continuous orgasms, if I had to describe the feeling. I wasn’t afraid anymore; I was nervously, intensely relieved.

He loved me.
He loved me.
He. loved. me.
Oh, God.

Then he continued, and right after he did, I wished that he hadn’t.

“I love you two, you and Leidy.”

Wait, one second! Did he say “I love you two” earlier or “I love you too”?

“You both mean so much to me and I’m lucky to have you as sisters from another mum.”

I immediately burst into laughter, and for some reason, he began to giggle too.

“You both are my babies.”

Well, he just didn’t know when to stop, did he? 

I began to laugh even louder. I laughed so much so that tears began to run down my face.
He was laughing because I was laughing; I was laughing because I thought I had just made a fool of myself, and I was deeply hurt. If he was laughing because I was laughing, he was laughing because I had made a fool of myself, because I was deeply hurt.

I so desperately wanted to sink into the ground and disappear or fly on the angel of death’s wings and never return. He loved me, that was good, but not the way I wanted to be loved.

First Aiders for Broken Hearts

Wind-Song

“Wingsong” by Michael Escoffery

No one can touch
a broken heart like a writer.
Even doctors are not skilled enough
in matters of the heart like that.

The writer drills the love-hole in
the reader’s heart further with their pen,
which may or may not be painful,
removing the rest of the waste
that was left behind,
or that the reader had tried to fill
the empty space in it with.

Then they may fill the hole up with words,
promises of a love that would be easier and sweet.
That is the most the writer can do,
for no one else can completely heal
the injured heart except the one
that the reader truly loves.
Else, their heart may never be fully healed,
and they may hurt themself and others.

If the reader does not dig the writer’s words out,
and they try their best to trust again,
they may be fine till “the one” comes,
the new one that will give them new love,
for the writer’s first aid keeps the
heart alive till the reader meets
and becomes their own healer.

Moving On

Nude Back

“Nude Back” by Michael Escoffery

I was devastated,
but more accurately, devastation was me.
I wasn’t happy,
and almost all of the time,
unhappiness clung very tightly to me.

I didn’t even feel that I was living,
that I was,
because I couldn’t feel,
and when I did, it hurt.

One minute, I thought,
“he left me,
so I’ll leave me too.”
The next, I thought,
“he dislikes me now,
so I’ll like me.
Who the hell needs him;
who?”

I’ll dislike all the things he likes.

He likes water,
so I’ll hate water.
He likes air,
so I’ll hate air.
He likes fire,
so I’ll hate fire.
He hates life,
so I’ll hate life.

The ‘only’ that truly like me,
water,
air,
fire
and life;
are the same things keep us alive.

How do you find peace
when a piece of you is gone?
How do you put yourself together
when you’re left in the cold to burn?

“Does he miss me?
Does he miss at feast,
or has he found a different Miss?
Is there a new Beauty for my Beast?”

You have a list of things you hope
he’ll remember and cherish at least.

It hurts;
it’s like an invisible stab to the chest.
It really hurts.

Moving on
and looking back;
moving back
and shedding tears.
Moving on
and looking back;
looking blank
and shedding fears.

That is how the broken have moved on,
for years and years.