I wasn’t planning to have a breakthrough that day. I was just trying to hold it together long enough to show up for a friend. But instead, I found myself unraveling—in the quiet of my office, in the middle of my grief. What started as a desperate scroll turned into something sacred. What happened next is a moment I’ll never forget—the day I met my inner child, held her close, and told her the words she needed to hear.
This is the day I became my own safe place.
It was the weekend before my birthday. I was in my office waiting to meet a friend and attend an art show. Instead of the excitement I typically feel when supporting my friends, I was sobbing from grief, trauma, depression, anxiety, and CPTSD. Weeks earlier I realized I still welcomed dysfunction into my life like a favorite sweater, letting it embrace me while responding with textbook freeze/fawn behaviors. I opened YouTube to mindlessly scroll. I came across a self-healing meditation about healing one’s inner child. In an act of desperation, I decided to give it a try. I prayed that God would help me see the truth and that if I was doing something evil, that He would show me. Then I closed my eyes and listened.
As I followed the guided meditation, I imagined the youngest version of myself I could remember. She was a toddler playing outside in the dirt with a stick and some rocks. As she was playing, I could see she was dissociated, doodling mindlessly in the sand, scooting the rocks around. I watched for a while before speaking. Then, when she looked up at me with the biggest brown eyes, I told her, “I see you there, girlie. I know you don’t understand what happened. I know the adults in your life have failed you. That is why I am here. I must tell you something very important that will change your life.” She looked at me with expectancy. I got on my knees and said, “Sherrie, my cheri amor, I am the adult now. I am here to rescue you, protect you, love you, and spoil you rotten. I promise I will keep you safe from now on. Promise.” Just then, she stood up and leaned into my embrace. She hugged me so tight as I stood up and walked away from the abuse, the trauma, the guilt, the shame, the fear.