Healing My Inner Child
by SAM BENNION
Having been raised in the era of “I’ll give you something to cry about,” my intentions leading up to my first experience with psychedelics was to let my inner child cry as much as they needed to cry, and to feel alllllll the things they needed to feel.
A month or so prior to my first experience, I began my inner child work by placing my hand on my heart, closing my eyes, and speaking with them. I told them they were special and they had important and powerful things to say, and I apologized for the fact no one listened when they tried to express those things.
Having also been raised in a massive Mormon family, I wanted them to to know they were free to express anything they needed. I wanted to be a safe space for them to land with whatever fears, concerns, ideas, or anything they wanted to vocalize. I wanted them to know it would be their time in the spotlight; there wouldn’t be any fighting for my attention, and whatever they brought to my attention, it would be safe with me.
I had peaceful, relaxing music playing when the medicine began to take effect and tears started streaming down my face. I knew my inner child and I were in for a ride.
ADVERTISEMENT
Come meet your people
--
Come meet your people --
I asked if they had anything they wanted to tell me, and they told me of a traumatic event I had remembered previously. I replied lovingly, “I know. How does that make you feel?” They simply said, “I don’t like it.” I hugged them and we cried together for a good, long while.
A while later, they brought a memory to my mind that I had forgotten, where I had traumatized one of my own children. I didn’t understand why they brought that to my attention, and I was actually quite devastated by what I’d seen. I’d apologized immediately after the harm I’d done, but clearly what happened was not okay. I thanked my inner child for showing me, but by my tone I was obviously not terribly thrilled.
They didn’t say much after that, in spite of my continuing to say, “This is your time. I’m here for you!”
They wanted to just keep crying. So, we cuddled and cried for probably hours.
The following day, after I’d had an opportunity to reflect on my experience, I realized I had failed my inner child. I let my pride and my pain overshadow the fact they needed me to see something I had blocked out. They needed me to see it, so I could take accountability for the harm I’d done to my own child, as my parents and abusers had not done for me.
I apologized profusely for treating them like they were a tool to serve me, rather than truly making the experience about them as I’d promised.
I’ve done my best to honor their bravery by channeling their bravery and discussing with my children the abuse they’d suffered at my hands before I’d managed to break the cycle.
Our inner children have so much to teach us, and I learned the hard way not to take them for granted.
ADVERTSEMENT
