The you that you once were – that small, good and vibrant child who once was – that’s the real you. All the things you were then; those things are who you really are. Still. Now.
You wonder what you’re made of; you’ve spent your whole life seeking and searching, holding up mirrors to yourself and picking up labels and sticking them to yourself. You’ve rejected the story of your inner child, because there was so much shame around that space, and that place. But you are not those shameful stories.
You are the you who wondered, questioned, asked why, thought those hundred thousand thoughts. You are the you who felt all the feelings. You are the one who knew just what you knew. You are the you who always was, and always will be.
When you wonder now, in your confusion and your memories, in the mess and the sorrow and the fear and at the rock bottom, what to do… go to her. Go to the one you have always been – the small one, the pure one. The one who questioned. The one who sang. The one who ran, who read, who wrote. The one who stood, hands on hips and said no, I won’t. The one who loved and held on tightly. The one who knew beyond knowing what was truly right, and what was absolutely wrong.
You had so little power then, and you suffered. But it is not too late. You can listen to her now. You can empower her now. You can take her on your lap, and hold her until the tears and fears are gone. She has you, now. She has you, and you have her, and that is a very, very great thing.