A while ago I wrote a couple of blogs around the work I did in therapy on ‘my backpack’. (My Backpack and I Was Lost) My backpack was filled with emotional trauma I had been clinging to throughout my life so far. I emptied the backpack, looked at every part, opened every zip, pocket, and tore away the inside of the fabric to see what was there. It was an awful experience, but rewarding never-the-less, and I gave the final, tumour filled part of my bag, back to its rightful owner.
Handing my backpack over, and turning my back on it felt good. I finally felt free! Or at least, I did until two weeks ago anyway. I realised a part of the backpack was still attached to me; a part I think I knew was there, but a part I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
In the true style of my counsellor, she pushed me to take a look at it. It felt as if she was beating me up with her words, telling me to take a look at it and recognise that it was there. However, picking up that part of the bag and opening it, it screamed at me like a howler from Harry Potter: “YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH!” It frightened me into silence for the rest of my session.
“Why aren’t I good enough?” I embodied the question that made my mind spin every time I thought about that time in my life.
I had a fantastic childhood. I had my family around me, I had friends, I grew up in the countryside and lived a life that I look back on fondly. But underneath that happy exterior was a desperate need to be good enough, and be something I wasn’t for the pleasure of those around me.
The way you see the world as a child, and the lessons you unconsciously learn seem to become ingrained in your being for the rest of your life. Well, until you’re ready to acknowledge that the lessons are often nonsense, and learn to rewrite your lessons that is.
I had amazing people around me. People that adored me, and accepted me for exactly who I was: The fun, wild, creative child, who underneath her puffy, party dresses, had scrapes and bruises on her knees from falling off her bike and climbing trees. A little girl that loved music, singing, and being silly. They all loved that little girl, but there was one person who that little girl was never good enough for, and that person was her Dad.
I was never good enough or accepted by him, and I went on to spend far too many years of my life attempting to be who he wanted me to be, or what I thought he wanted me to be. I pretended to be into motorbikes and cars, I pretended that I didn’t love girly things, I acted as if I loved the ugly trainers he bought me, and I moulded myself around what he wanted from me in hope that he would love me. However, it never worked, which left me wondering why I wasn’t good enough.
As a twenty-nine year old, I’m over my relationship with my Dad. If I never saw him again it would still feel too soon, but there is a child within me that is broken by the fact I was never seen, heard, or accepted by him; and it’s time to deal with that child.
“You need to go back and soothe her.” My counsellor told me.
“But I am her? I don’t know how I’m supposed to do that?”
The concept of healing my inner child was something I just couldn’t wrap my head around. Usually, I’m willing to dive headfirst into anything she tells me to do, but this, it just didn’t seem doable. I resisted it, but I knew it had to be done – don’t you just hate it when your counsellor is absolutely right?
I wrote myself a letter. I wrote to my inner child. It felt as stupid as it sounds, but it shifted something, that’s for sure. When I would look back at my inner child, I would see her trying to impress her Dad, trying to be who he wanted and enjoying any ounce of attention he would give her, but now she looks different. After talking to her, she’s away from him and she is safe at my Aunty and Uncle’s house. She’s no longer wearing stereotypical ‘boy’ clothes, she’s wearing a dress and gorgeous, girly trainers, and most of all, she looks happy.
Even though writing to her allowed me to pick her up and move her as if she was in one of them claw machines in an arcade, there’s still a lot of work left to do. Work that I no longer have the energy to take part in right now, but she’s safe and around people that accept her, which is half of the battle.
I wouldn’t willingly spend my time around negative people, I would remove myself from the situation and replace toxic people with nontoxic ones instead. So why have I been okay with leaving my inner child in a place that adult me wouldn’t spend more than five minutes in?
Coming to her rescue was well overdue, and now I’ve got my cape on I’m not willing to leave her alone to absorb any more feelings of not being good enough. I know I have always been good enough, from day one to now. Nearly thirty years later – there has never been a moment where I am have been anything other than good enough.
I just need to make sure my inner child knows this and that she never forgets it.
Gwen Richards 