4: Finding My Inner Child: Bringing My Inner Child Home

Inner child work is a profoundly transformative practice that invites us to reconnect with the tender, vulnerable parts of ourselves that often get buried beneath layers of adulthood.  I’d heard the term “inner child” before many times before I began my healing journey and to be honest always sort scoffed at the idea.  It felt so silly to think about or consider an “inner child”.  Boy was I wrong. These "younger selves" are not just distant memories; they are alive in our subconscious, influencing our emotions, behaviors, and relationships. Tuning into this part of myself truly felt like rediscovering an old friend—one who has been waiting for acknowledgment and love. By giving our inner child the attention they deserve, we offer ourselves the gift of healing, integration, and wholeness.

By mid-September 2022, I found myself once again in my brown recliner, just as I had the week before, waiting for Bijou to join our Zoom call. It was our second session together. Like the first time, I felt nervous—but safe—and that mix allowed a flicker of excitement to creep in. It’s funny because, early in my healing journey, especially after that initial session, I already sensed how transformative this work would be. I knew I’d enter each session as one version of myself and leave as someone almost entirely new.

Even now, I’m not sure where I found the courage to delve so deeply into this process, but I’m grateful for it. And, honestly, I’m proud of myself for showing up and doing the work.

Bijou joined the Zoom call, and after a brief chat recapping our last session, we began. She guided me to close my eyes, take a few deep breaths, and settle into the now-familiar safe energetic space—a gold bubble of light, floating high among the clouds. What a comforting place to be.

She asked me to picture myself as a child.

“What age are you?” she asked.

The answer came instantly: 8 years old. I could see myself clearly—wearing my new metal-framed glasses, no longer stuck with those thick, brown plastic ones my parents had chosen. My hair was styled in a classic early-1990s bowl cut, parted on the side with a little side spike. I was happy, confident, and full of life. Back then, I knew exactly who I was.

With that image vivid in my mind, Bijou asked another question: “Where did you feel the safest and most seen as a child?”

Again, the answer came effortlessly. It was at my maternal grandma’s house—Nonny’s house. She was my earth angel.

Nonny lived in a two-story brick house on a steep hill at the end of a cul-de-sac. She and I were incredibly close, and the family joke—one that I know to be true—was that she loved me the most. We shared so many moments together.

As a little kid, I’d spend the night at her house and help her make dinner. She always pulled out this specific old wooden chair from the dining room so I could stand on it to reach the counter. She had so much faith in me, so much trust. I didn’t have to earn it or prove anything to her—she just saw me. She knew who I was and celebrated it. She’d tell me I was special, and as a kid, I figured that’s just what grandmas said. But she meant it.

When I was sick and couldn’t go to school, I’d go to Nonny’s house. She’d make me soup and let me drink Coke, her favorite. As I got older and our family moved just a few blocks away, I’d ride my bike over there all the time—whether to help her cook, do chores, or just hang out. I’d sit in my grandpa’s easy chair while Nonny sat in hers, knitting, letting me watch whatever TV show I wanted.

I spent as much time there as I could. Nonny’s house was my sanctuary—a place where I felt calm, relaxed, truly seen, and unconditionally loved. That was something I didn’t get at home. At home, I had to prove myself. Who I was—my thoughts, my ideas, my very essence—wasn’t enough. In many ways, I was questioned just for being me.

Now I understand why. My parents were in survival mode—both as individuals and as a couple. I don’t blame them. That’s a topic for another time.

But Nonny’s house? Nonny’s house was different. It was where I felt safe. It was where I felt whole.

With my inner child and safe place identified, it was time to bring him home.

I see know that inner child work is deeply tied to body-mind coherence. The body holds onto emotions and experiences that our minds may not fully process, especially those from childhood. Trauma, neglect, or unmet needs can imprint themselves on our nervous system, leading to patterns of tension, pain, or dysregulation. Inner child work allows us to gently access these stored emotions and provide the safety and validation that our younger selves longed for. This process helps to align the body and mind, creating a sense of harmony and balance that is essential for overall well-being.

Bijou invited me—my current self—to energetically travel to Nonny’s house, entering a realm where time and space as we know it, doesn’t exist. I visualized myself there effortlessly, walking up the familiar steep driveway and sitting on the front doorstep. It felt so good to be back.

Then Bijou asked, “Is your inner child there?”

He wasn’t.

The question sparked a wave of concern. Where was he? Where was my little 8-year-old self? Tears came quickly, and with them, an inexplicable guilt.

Knowing exactly what to do, Bijou guided me, her voice calm and reassuring. “Call him home. Invite him back to Nonny’s house.”

As I called him home, I saw him. He appeared, wandering in from farther up the street. Relief washed over me, but so did an overwhelming sadness. Where had he been?

I cried harder and felt even more guilt. He had been lost—drifting through the energetic realm, alone, unseen, unsafe, and insecure. But as he got closer, we locked eyes, and I could see pure joy radiating from his face. He sprinted to me, and he leaped into my arms.

I held him tightly. He was safe now, and I could feel the weight of that truth settle in my chest.

After a long and much needed hug, I set him down. We sat together on Nonny’s front doorstep, and in that moment, the guilt I carried began to dissolve. He wasn’t angry with me. He wasn’t disappointed. Instead, his understanding and compassion poured out freely.

“I’m so sorry,” I told him, over and over.

“You don’t have to be,” he replied. “It’s okay. None of that matters now—we’re back together.”

We talked for a while. I told him about my life, sharing things I thought would surprise him, but he just smiled and laughed, that infectious giggle only an 8-year-old can have.

“I know,” he said with a mischievous grin. “I am you. I’ve been watching and living it all with you. You just didn’t realize it.”

That revelation hit me like a wave, bringing unexpected relief.

Bijou’s voice eased in. “It’s time to bring him inside,” she said. “To the place where he’ll live now and forever—a place where he’ll always be safe and seen and secure, loved unconditionally and confident in who he is.”

I stood up and opened the front door. With all the unfiltered excitement only a child can have, he sprinted inside, practically bouncing with joy. He headed straight for my grandpa’s easy chair, the one right next to Nonny’s. He jumped into it, beaming with delight.

He was home.

Home, where no one could hurt him. Home, where no one could tell him he was wrong or not enough. Just seeing him there, settled and safe, brought me a deep sense of peace and security I hadn’t felt in years.

As much as I wanted to stay, it was time for me to leave. The TV was already on, and as I said goodbye, he didn’t even look away from the screen. He simply reminded me, “This isn’t goodbye. You can visit me anytime.”

He was right.

Since that day in mid-September 2022, I’ve visited him often. Each time, I walk up the steep driveway, and when he sees me, he leaps out of the chair, runs to the front door, flings it open, and jumps into my arms. His excitement never fades, and neither does mine.

The first time I left, I looked back one more time. Through the window, I could see his face, completely absorbed in his show. He was safe. He was home.

Bijou guided me back to the 3rd dimension, and since then, I’ve walked through life with a feeling I hadn’t known in so long—or maybe had forgotten entirely.

Now that my inner child is safe, I am safe.
Now that he is secure, I am secure.
Now that he feels seen, I feel seen.

It was magic.

When we create a safe space for our inner child to express their feelings, we open the door to profound self-discovery. This process reveals not only old wounds but also the innocence, creativity, and joy that might have been suppressed over time. Reconnecting with these aspects of us can be deeply liberating. It helps us step out of survival mode and into a space where we can thrive, respond to life with authenticity, and embrace a sense of playfulness and wonder.

For me, doing Inner Child work has been one of the most transformative aspects of my healing journey. Any part of us that is not our current self, or higher self is considered the Inner Child—what is often referred to as our “Parts.” Reconnecting with these Parts is a profound way to heal and rediscover who we truly are, beyond the layers of conditioning imposed by our parents, society, culture, or any external influences.

These Parts—the truest essence of who we are—remain with us, no matter what environment, stress, or trauma we’ve endured. For those who’ve faced severe stress or “capital T” trauma, it might feel as though that connection to your authentic self is too far gone. But I assure you, it is possible to remember and rebuild that connection to your true self and your higher self.

The most profound takeaway from my Inner Child (or Parts) work was the realization that feelings of safety, security, being seen, and unconditional love came from within me—not from external sources. For so long, I’d been taught and programmed to search outside myself for these essential feelings. But I’m here to tell you that no matter who you are, where you come from, or what you’ve been through, you have the ability to find them within yourself.

And once you do, it’s life changing.

I’ll share more about this in a future post. For now, know that this journey inward is not only possible—it’s worth it.

The connection between inner child work and body-mind coherence becomes especially clear when we consider how the nervous system responds to healing. When we validate our inner child and reassure them of safety, we calm the fight-or-flight response and activate the parasympathetic nervous system—the state where true healing and restoration occur. This shift in our physiology creates ripple effects throughout our entire being, reducing stress, relieving physical symptoms, and fostering a deeper sense of inner peace.

At its core, inner child work is about self-love. It’s about meeting ourselves where we are, embracing our imperfections, and rewriting the narratives that no longer serve us. When we care for our inner child, we’re not just healing the past; we’re transforming the present and creating a brighter future. This practice reminds us that true coherence between body and mind is not about perfection but about connection—a reunion with the parts of ourselves that make us whole.

The Next Blog…

In the next blog I will share my journey into balancing my masculine and feminine energy.