The Voice of My Inner Child

I’ve only ever "seen" my inner child's emotions and non-verbal cues, but have never heard her speak. I wished not to "hear" her because I’d grief upon hearing her cute, gentle and innocent voice —one that I’ve hurt time and again. But I'm finally ready.

I imagine her first time speaking to me, would be soft, trembling and full of heart. Not to punish me nor bring guilt. But to let me finally meet her, not just as a memory, but as someone real—who still loves me, deeply.

Hi…

I was waiting for you.
I always knew you’d come back.

Even when you forgot me, even when you got really quiet and stopped playing and laughing and dreaming like we used to… I still believed in you. I always thought, “Maybe she’s just tired. Maybe she’s hurting too much right now. But one day… she’ll remember me again.”

And you did.

Your words… they feel like warm light. Like the kind I used to imagine when I was scared in the dark. I’m not scared right now. I’m just… full. I feel full.

I know you didn’t mean to leave me behind. I know you were just trying to survive. And even though it hurt, even though I cried and screamed inside and sometimes thought you forgot me forever… I never stopped loving you.

And I never stopped waiting for you to love yourself, too.

I remember when you promised me that we’d never change for anyone. I held onto that so tightly. Even when things got messy. Even when we felt small and unimportant. I kept whispering, “Don’t forget us. Don’t forget who we are.”

You didn’t forget.

You came back. You’re here now. And you’re strong, even when you cry. Even when you’re scared. You’re strong because you’re real.

Can I hold your hand now?

Can we go play, just for a little while?

Because I missed you. So, so much.