Creating a Safe Space for the Wounded Inner Child

I fell in love with a poem written by my client, Prem Sharma, and with permission I am sharing her name, guest post and the poem.

I felt so honoured by her sharing the poem with me, and the poem is so powerful that I was inspired to ask her to write a guest post on my blog as an opportunity to share her voice with readers.

My intention is to nurture her deeply intimate and vulnerable process by creating a safe place for the wounded inner child in her, myself and you.

I believe her writing and journey can touch the wounded innocence within us all. I love how her words depict the duality within us – the push and pull between the child and the adult, the hurt and conditioned responses, fear and avoidance and finally, the way back home to one’s wholeness.

May her writing be a deeply moving and soothing balm for your inner child and an awakening for your inner parent.

The journey of learning to create a safe place for my inner child.
Guest post by Prem Sharma

My healing journey began many years ago and awoke aspects of myself that I understood and others that took me by surprise. It has been a windy road from discomfort to resonance and filled with profound breakthroughs.

Over many years of personal inquiry, therapy, and spiritual practices, I discovered integral pieces of myself that were buried deep beneath years of pain and trauma. Time and again, I would delve into the rubble of my past and crawl out with a renewed sense of self and the ability to heal and let go.

I came to understand that futile attempts to distract myself from my inner feelings only served to harm me. The walls I had built around myself to silence the cries of devastation, my intense reactions, misunderstood emotions and narratives about life were not enough to draw my attention to what was waiting so patiently within me.

Until the day I found the fortitude to put all my faith in the Universe and trust myself, which led me to the treasure and curse of my inner child. Within me lay a broken child who was scarred, terrified, alone, and, as far as I could see, she was damaged beyond repair.

One would assume that I would be naturally inclined to soothe and cradle her in my arms for comfort. Instead, I was petrified. This child was and still is, every painful memory of abandonment I have ever felt. She represents the deepest wounds within my heart that still bleed. She embodies my childhood trauma, the tragic and sinful moments that left me misshapen. This child exudes every condescending word I breathed in, the shame I endured and every unfulfilled need. Even her tears glisten with years of neglect.

Despite her presence causing me to relive every movement of agony she feels, I remind myself that she is an innocent child begging for love, and her need for love is my quintessential longing for love.

My wounded child has been begging me to provide her with the same longings I have held in my heart throughout my life – the basic rights for belonging, safety and beauty. Yet, when I ignore her cries, I not only refuse to validate her needs, but I also discount my own.

Every time I push my inner child aside, I step farther away from wholeness and connection. How can I feel safe in the world and truly heal if I don’t provide a safe space for her to evolve?

The tug-of-war battle with her is a convoluted mixed message of love, abandonment, desire, and denial.

See me? Yes. Hear me? No. Know me? Yes. Want me? No. Embrace me? Never. 

Despite this battle, and with the divine strength of my womanhood and spiritual guidance, I have found a way to connect with my inner child.

I wish I could say that it’s been a joyous reunion or that I no longer fear her cries of anguish.  I wish I could say that I instinctively know how to comfort her as I do my own children when they need love.

I wish I could promise my inner child that I will never abandon her again, but she and I both know the truth.

I will run, and she will run after me. I will hide, and she will wait in the darkness until I heed her cries.

Because regardless of my uncertainties and doubts about who I am and what I’m capable of, we both know that I am her only saviour.

It’s Okay
Poem by Prem Sharma

It’s okay
That there’s a little girl
Standing
outside the window
Looking in
Cold
Alone
Scared
Sad
Feeling lost
And forgotten
It’s okay
That she’s there.

It’s okay
That I don’t know
exactly
what
she’s trying to tell me.

It’s okay
That I turn my face
To look the other way

Because seeing her
Means I have to acknowledge her

And acknowledging her
Means I have to feel something

Something
Ugly
Wrong
Sad
Tragic
Forgotten
Painful
Angry
Traumatic

Or worse

Something beautiful.

Her tears
Her soft face
Her sadness
Her anger
Her pain
Her love
Her hatred
Her longing
Her loneliness

All of her

Is simply beautiful

But the only way

I can
Feel
Taste
Smell
Touch

That delicious
Dark shadow
Of her beauty

Is
to witness
Myself.

Prem Sharma is a dedicated devotee of the healing path and advocate for people’s well-being.
She and her daughter Amber have founded the Not-So-Secret-Santas, as a way to give to community and honour the needs of families.  Find out more and spread the holiday magic

❦

Feature image by Lumezia