my darling inner child

I started this post months ago and didn’t quite know how to finish it. Perhaps today I can do it justice.

Much of this process of exploration I do independently without outside input or so I thought until I realised that actually much of it is triggered and not really independent at all. Still, I drive it rather than avoid it.

I pay attention to my choice of words and how I feel. It is a exercise in self-observation, as I write I notice how my explanation changes tones in reaction to the my emotional response.

Throughout my teens and my adulthood I’ve always been mindful of my inner child, I soothed it when it cried and helped her up when she fell over clumsy emotions.

I noticed that the mischievous little isn’t as much related to my inner child as I thought. Even though it is perhaps inspired by it to a certain extent.

My inner child carries with it memories of my childhood, my little doesn’t, just like me it prefers to live in the moment. It’s free from the hindrance of those memories. It pushes boundaries my inner child has no idea exist.


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