Listening to my inner child
My interest in the inner child began when I recognised how I pulled back from jumping into a huge puddle. I reflect on this experience and wonder what held me back. Was it the assumption of others' judgment? Was the idea of having cold, wet feet and walking home in them an unnecessarily perceived overstimulated presumption? Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
While there were practical reasons not to jump into the puddle, this small moment left me wondering about how often I stop myself from doing what my inner child is asking of me.
She needs to play, just to be free and let go for a moment, without having to explain why. She wants to experience the here and now and explore the sensations that the adult side pushes down, ignores, and tells her to wait and be quiet. I was ignoring the little me.
Reflecting on the puddle.
I felt like I wanted to understand this personal moment more deeply, not just to understand myself better, but to help clients recognise and listen to what their inner child is trying to communicate to them. I started to read articles and books about the inner child. The puddle gave me an ordinary, everyday moment to reflect on the impulse towards play and the reason for pulling back from the moment.
We all have an inner child, and meeting them with compassion and understanding their unmet needs can help us recognise patterns that may affect us in adulthood. Psychologist Carl Jung described the inner child as part of our subconscious mind, the driving force behind many of our emotions and reactions, whether positive or negative. Thoughts, feelings, and beliefs become ingrained in our internal belief system. I feel that healing the inner child is about allowing yourself now what you needed then.
I can't explain for now where the hesitation came from, just that I noticed it. I'm curious about the space between wanting to do something I feel could have been a stimulating, dopamine-rich moment and telling myself no.
Spontaneity v practical needs
Cold, soggy feet and wet clothes are a consideration; after all, I don’t have someone who will wash, dry, and put away my spontaneous sodden clothes, fetch clean socks, and wrap me in a blanket once I have squelched my way home. Listening to my inner child and being the adult who looks after her is a balance of spontaneity and practical needs.
The caring adult side could rationalise the situation, maybe coming back later with some wellies? I could choose a day when getting wet isn’t too much of a problem or look for another source of dopamine fuel. I’m interested in whether I gave the moment enough time to process, pause, and explore before asking, “Is there a way to say yes?”
Understanding this part of my process feels like I'm connecting with the child in me, talking to her, acknowledging her presence and understanding her need for excitement. I want her to play, not for her to turn it into an adaptation of shame and criticism, but to create a nurturing space where she feels content with being seen and validated.
What if someone sees?
The other part of my reflection surrounding jumping into the puddle was the possibility of others' judgment: would they think I'm weird or odd, a grown woman jumping in a puddle? I could never know what another person might be thinking, but I'm starting to notice how much my internal monologue influences my choice.
I'm now wondering whether, if I were in a private place, I would still hesitate. Would the wet clothes and soggy feet bother me as much? Would I be more willing to jump in? In the here and now, I feel that I probably would have just gone for it and questioned my decision on the walk home with the soggy socks, but I will never know.
An invitation for you to notice.
Does my shared experience feel familiar to you? Do you recognise the small child who is sitting, waiting, asking to be acknowledged and validated?
Has there been something that you have wanted to do? It doesn’t have to be a puddle, and it doesn’t have to involve revisiting anything painful. It's about acknowledging the here and now, listening to what the inner child is asking.
Questions to ask yourself.
What would be enjoyable, simply for the experience?
What is going on internally that is making me reconsider?
Could I change anything to make me feel contented and safe?
Is there an alternative that harmonises better with me?
How often do I dismiss an invitation to play?
What would gifting myself a little more freedom look like?
My final thoughts
My reflection on the puddle is that I want to validate and acknowledge my inner child, understand her, and get to know her better. The process will take time, and through understanding her unmet needs and past traumas, we will learn together. I am not setting myself any rules, but instead noticing and understanding my process and keeping my ears open for the little voice to become louder.
P.S. After writing this blog, I went on the search for a puddle and played with leaves.
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