My Damn Inner Child Showed Up

Healing your inner child with journaling

When I was in my twenties and constantly broke as fuck, any money that I had went toward bills or my daughter’s needs.

When I was in my thirties and a little less broke, I would splurge on a coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts before heading to graduate school.

As I sipped my coffee on the way to class, a familiar feeling crept in and washed over every ounce of my being.

Hello, shame.

Hello, negative self-talk.

“You don’t deserve that coffee because you have a ton of bills to pay. Who in the hell do you think you are spending money on yourself?”

I tried to ignore the shame by rationalizing it away.

“I need this fucking coffee because I’m exhausted. I’m going to grad school, and working a part-time job all while balancing single parenting.”

Honestly, it was exhausting.

This internal struggle went on for a few weeks before I finally figured out where in the hell it was coming from.

My childhood.

More specifically, my poverty-ridden childhood and all of its deprivations.

My mom was raised by parents who lived through the Great Depression so they taught her how to pinch a penny until it screamed for mercy.

She was raised with the mindset that if you can make it at home, you don’t need to spend money on it. It was considered a moral crime.

This mindset was very much practiced throughout my childhood.

Now don’t get me wrong, we were always broke so my mom’s frugal ways were partly out of necessity.

But, there was an unintentional lesson that she taught me.

My self-worth and money were intertwined.

“Mom, I need new clothes. School’s about to start.”

“Kim, how can you ask for new clothes when you know your father and I are struggling to pay the rent?”

So poorly fitted hand-me-downs and clown shoes it was.

bullies and clown shoes

I’m in elementary school: “Mom, Dad, I need money for lunch.”

Mom—”Go ask your father.”

Dad—”Go ask your mother.”

I ended up taking coins out of the coin jar because apparently, I didn’t deserve money for lunch.

While the other kids in the neighborhood were lined up at the ice cream truck, I watched from the window trying not to cry because I never got to get an ice cream.

I didn’t get cotton candy at the fair.

There were no trips or souvenirs or other trinkets that are a joyful part of childhood.

Now, if you are a Generation X’er like me, you might be saying, “So you didn’t get an ice cream, Kim. Big deal. Suck it up!”

generation x life default mode

I hear where you’re coming from. Generation X kids weren’t supposed to be seen, you weren’t supposed to be heard, and you certainly weren’t supposed to complain (unless you wanted a visit from the belt).

But when you’re a child and you have to continually struggle to get your basic needs met (properly fitted clothing, food, attention), and none of the adults are explaining why they aren’t meeting your needs, you assume the problem is you.

This is where the danger lies because as a child, I internalized everything.

That meant that there was something wrong with me.

Of course, it wasn’t until I went to therapy that I learned that I was/am worthy of getting my needs met.

I’ll never forget the day that my therapist used the term “wounded inner child” for the first time. I started balling my eyes out.

But when she started talking about “healing my inner child” and “talking to my inner child”, I thought she was nuts. Something about it seemed woo-woo but after months of working with her on other issues, and making great progress, I agreed to give it a try.

It all started with this:

For this exercise, find a quiet place where you can focus. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. Imagine yourself stepping into a room where your inner child resides. It could be a recreation of your childhood room or a place where you felt safe.

Once you are there, say a simple "Hello" to your inner child. Ask your inner child, "What brings you here?"

I’m tearful even now thinking about how intense (but healing) those sessions were.

Whew.

On the fourth week of sipping my coffee while driving to school (where I was working on my Doctor of Psychology degree), the shame came back.

<The irony here is not lost on me.>

Only this time I knew that it was an old wound trying to open up. My wounded inner child was peeking her head in because adult Kim was stressed, fatigued, and overwhelmed.

And spending a few dollars on myself had triggered all of it.

Like I used to tell my therapy clients, “Mental health is just like physical health. It’s something that must be monitored, nurtured, and cared for. It’s a work in progress that we fine-tune and revisit when life circumstances change or we’re stressed, sad, or mad. Above all else, we must speak to ourselves with the same kindness and patience that we use when we speak to our best friend.”

If only my mother had told me that she couldn’t buy the two-dollar ice cream because it was all the money she had and she needed it to buy milk, I may not have internalized it and turned it into shame and feelings of unworthiness.

If only my parents had put aside their pride and applied for free school lunches, I would not have had to feel shame when I paid for school lunches with coins.

If only there had been more communication, childhood Kim may not have been so wounded.

If only there had been more love…

By the end of the semester, I resolved my internal struggle by recognizing and addressing the trigger, the faulty thinking, and the source of the shame.

I reminded myself that that little girl who often felt unworthy deserved love, kindness, and grace as does the adult she is today.

I am worthy of getting my basic needs met.

I am worthy of receiving love, kindness, and grace.

I am worthy.

Especially of coffee.

A therapeutic ponder

If you could say anything to your eight-year-old self, what would you say? What question(s) would you ask?

Explore more

If you experienced neglect, trauma, or other emotional pain, your inner child may feel vulnerable, and in need of protection. You may have buried the pain to protect yourself (your current self and the child you once were).

Hiding pain doesn’t heal it and it has a way of resurfacing in adulthood (as mine did). Unprocessed childhood trauma can cause anxiety, stress, depression, relationship difficulties, and struggles with low self-worth.

Working to heal your inner child can help you address what you’ve buried and release some of that pain.

If you’re a paid subscriber, head to Kim’s Therapy Space to download a 49-page Inner Child Journal to help you start your healing journey.

Please take care of yourselves. You’re worth everything.

Kim