Just when I think I know myself well, I catch a deeper glimpse of the little girl who still lives within me.
She is the part of me who was punished as a child and somehow came to believe she deserved it. That was never the truth, but it became part of her story.
This morning, I spent a little time talking with her. I wanted her to know something she may have needed to hear all along.
She did not deserve to be punished. She was a child who needed love, safety, and understanding.
I told her that I will love and care for her forever. She doesn’t have to earn my love, prove herself, or live in fear of doing something wrong. There will be no punishment from me.
I wonder how many parts of ourselves are still carrying old beliefs, even after years of healing. We may understand something intellectually, yet a younger part of us may still be living as though the past is happening now.
Perhaps meeting these parts of ourselves means slowing down enough to hear their stories—and gently helping them discover that things are different today.
I am not that helpless little girl anymore. I am the woman who can stand beside her, protect her, comfort her, and remind her that she is loved.
And perhaps, as she begins to trust that, something inside me can finally loosen its grip.
It’s time to let go of the old pain.
Not by forcing it away, but by giving that little girl what she needed all along: love, reassurance, and the freedom to know that she is safe with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment