I see myself as a strong-willed woman—someone who doesn’t easily back down. My upbringing in a challenging household forced me to adopt a tough exterior early on. I buried my emotions deep, locking away my inner child, whom I affectionately refer to as “little Emma.” For decades, I lived behind protective walls, but everything shifted when my mother passed away in the summer of 2020. Suddenly, the door to my childhood opened wide, and that protective cage turned into a prison.
In that moment, I felt lost—both in myself and in my mental wellbeing. Before diving into the present, let me provide some context about my turbulent childhood. It was marked by significant loss: I lost my grandfather at five, my father at twelve, and shortly thereafter, my mother descended into a depression that was compounded by alcohol abuse—ultimately leading to her demise. Growing up in such an environment, filled with sadness and trauma, was my normal. I endured my mother’s verbal abuse, which I managed to brush aside at the time, thanks to my thick skin.
However, come June, I began experiencing flashbacks reminiscent of PTSD. I reached out to my psychiatrist, seeking help and requesting an increase in my medication. I also turned to my usual form of self-care—running—and found a new therapist specializing in trauma. During our sessions, we explored the intricacies of my past, and she made a surprising recommendation: to (re)parent my inner child.
“Reparenting can help individuals repair attachments and cultivate healthier relationships,” says Rachel O’Neill, a licensed counselor and therapist. “It can assist in recognizing and mending patterns of dysfunctional behavior, which are common among abuse survivors.” This process can be healing. Ladan Nikravan Hayes from Talkspace explains that reparenting is rooted in the idea that many psychological struggles arise when a child’s needs aren’t met, leading to difficulties in adult relationships.
Initially, I found her suggestion rather silly. The thought of placing “little Emma” on my lap and nurturing her as I would my own children felt absurd. Yet, after a period of resistance, I began to embrace this practice. I started speaking to myself with the same affection I extend to my daughter, offering words of reassurance like, “It’s okay. You’re doing just fine. It’s not your fault.” When waves of sadness and anxiety washed over me, instead of fleeing from those emotions, I sat with them. I allowed “little Emma” to cry, wiping her tears with tissues or the sleeves of my shirt.
I also began to confront the negative thoughts that plagued me—the ones insisting I wasn’t good enough. To challenge these beliefs, I asked myself a straightforward question: Prove it. Bad mom? Prove it. Bad spouse? Prove it. I shifted my perspective, affirming to myself, “You are enough.” I learned to love myself unconditionally, just as I do for my young children.
Is this journey easy? Absolutely not. Battling negativity is a daily struggle, especially while managing anxiety, depression, and PTSD. It can feel awkward, and at times, I doubt the loving messages I tell myself. Nevertheless, I continue to affirm those words, holding myself both physically and emotionally. “Little Emma” will remain on my lap until she feels secure and cherished. Reparenting isn’t about perfect parenting; it’s about creating a safe space where love, care, and support can flourish.
For more insights into self-care and mental health, check out this article on reparenting your inner child. Also, if you’re curious about home insemination options, this resource on pregnancy and home insemination is excellent.