Little girl, Bree

I’m learning to talk to my inner child. The one that did not get whatever it is that she needed when she was young. I’m not even sure what that is, but I know that it’s affecting my adult decisions.

This is not my parents, or anyone in my families, fault. They all loved me well.

This morning little girl Bree laid under the covers, pulled up over her head determined to stay in bed all day. Depressed and anxious about nothing in particular.

Big girl Bree has been working on nurturing little girl Bree; how to talk to her, how to be gentle and acknowledge her needs. How can 43-year-old woman Bree talk to little Bree, who is maybe 8 years old, and just about as sassy as big girl Bree?

It’s hard work, but as a friend once told me “hard does not mean bad; it’s just hard”. And as I’ve learned over and over, I’m not the only one dealing with this. You are never the “only one”. Ever.

These trauma boxes that remain locked up in the storage of my mind must be unpacked, however long it takes. I don’t even know what’s in most of them, so they’re difficult to open. What might I find? Sometimes one just falls open and ‘boom’ I have to deal with it today. I call them emotional land mines. Things that trigger some repressed memory that you’d never expect.

So this morning, big girl Bree said to little girl Bree, get out of bed, we are going to the park. Secretly big girl Bree didn’t want to go just as bad as a little girl Bree did, but big girl Bree knows it is good to do the things you think you cannot do. And her therapist cheered her on via text. So there’s that – pushing myself to grow. Because in therapy I’ve learned that so many of my adult decisions are determined by my inner child, and she is not ok. Children cannot make adult decisions. She needs nurturing and acknowledgement. She needs to be heard. She needs a voice. And only I can give it to her. Which is scary to think of in itself.

So little girl Bree pitched a fit, kicked her feet, and cried (quite literally) while big girl Bree waited. Little Bree made all sorts of excuses: I haven’t brushed my hair or teeth, I don’t have a bra on, it’s chilly outside. Big girl Bree says well, little girls don’t wear bras, and since you don’t plan on talking to anyone but me, I don’t care if you brush your hair or teeth right now, we can do that later, and actually it’s very nice outside.

Little Bree stomped as she got dressed, gathered her things, and proceeded to trip over her own feet. She twisted her ankle, yet another excuse not to go. Big girl handed her some ibuprofen and said let’s go.

Both of them trudged to the car together, set the GPS and proceeded to drive the 2 miles (which seems like forever) to the park.

Little girl Bree was giving big girl Bree the silent treatment, but big girl just waited, holding space for her inner child.

The park was nice, the sun was warm, the breeze was refreshing, and the birds sang. The dandelions promised a thousand wishes.

As Bree decided to sit in the field of dandelions, little girl Bree finally spoke up and said “don’t sit on any of them. Those wishes belong to everybody, some belong to us, so we don’t want to squish any”. Big girl Bree found a patch of grass big enough for her to sit in without squishing any wishes.

Bree thinks that if you see a pretty flower you don’t need to pick it up, just let it live where it’s at. Little Bree said that in order to make a wish you need to blow on the dandelion and watch the white seedlings fly away. A moment later a strong breeze came by and all of a sudden they were surrounded by dozens of wishes blowing all around. Make a wish, little Bree said.

Bree sat with her inner child in the grass and sun, soaking up warmth from above and energy from the earth below.

They walked through the rose garden where dozens of various roses will soon be growing. They have wonderful names like “cherry parfait”, “rainbow knock out”, and “mellow yellow”. None are blooming yet, but there is a knowing; a promise. Those seeds were planted underground long ago, they came completely undone in the dark earth, reached towards the light, and are soaking up the sun. They will bloom with time. Just like the rest of us. From dark to light, from searching to finding, from waiting to blooming. When they do bloom I will come back and take dozens of pictures of them; just like last year.

We sat on a bench next to a pond. A couple of children came by with their mother. They marveled with amazement at lily pads, goldfish, and tadpoles. “There’s a frog!” exclaimed the young boy. That is pretty cool little girl Bree said. “It is, isn’t it?” said big girl Bree.

Big girl Bree and little girl Bree didn’t talk much more. They just sat and listened to the sound of the wind and the birds, watching the wishes blow by. Knowing that God was close enough to be in the whispers of wind, beautiful enough to be in the sounds of birds, and big enough to be all around like the swirling dandelion seedlings blowing in the breeze.