On Raising a Non-Compliant Inner Child

Some days my inner child walks around with a torch in each hand ready to burn everything to the ground. Some days my inner child weeps silently to herself in want of affection. Some days she sits hunched over a desk, carefully planning her revenge. Some days she just stares out a window waiting for love to come, and stay. Some days she bounces a ball over and over around in my head, desperate for someone to play with. Some days she sits, reads, colours, and even laughs to herself at all the memories we’ve made. Some days she throws tantrums, dissatisfied by the lack of attention she received, dissatisfied by the lack of attention she receives. Some days she highjacks all my plans, crosses her legs and decides indeed that the day is done. Some days she cries and cries, exhausted by the disappointment; exhausted by the weight of carrying a broken heart inside her chest. Some days she stands in admiration of me, some days she stands in disgust. Some days she wishes she could scream herself into the world, some days she’s happiest with a whisper. Some days all she needs to be soothed is a hug and my oldest teddy bear. Some days she sucks up all my energy just trying to figure out what’s wrong. Some days she loves me, some days she’s full to the brim with resentment. Some days — most days, she just wishes things had turned out differently.

And how can I raise a child that won’t sit still? How can I raise a child when I’m still in pain myself? How can I raise a child when the child is inside me?