I have done a great deal of healing with my inner child. I have reclaimed her essence via soul retrieval and have worked on building my inner relationship with her. However, there came a day when it wasn’t my inner child calling out for attention but my inner teen and the shock of it threw me for a loop.

On reflection of course it makes total sense. I had been delving into healing pre-age seven and a few years over, for quite a while. Reclaiming the lost fragments and restoring the safety of my inner child to my inner sanctuary. What I didn’t realise was that my inner teen was desperately needing my attention as well but I was not listening.

My teenage years were very difficult and that’s an understatement. My right kidney was near to failing at around 13 years, I spent quite some time in and out of hospitals. The worst thing for me about that time was that I did not develop as other teenagers did. My body stayed childlike. This attracted a lot of scapegoating, bullying and mockery. As an army brat (what we army kids called ourselves) I moved around a lot between Asia and Australia. I was happy in Asia at International Schools as there was no bullying at all. I know hard to believe but it’s true. However in Australia, in both public and private schools including boarding schools, it was a living hell. In the private boarding schools (I was not forced to go but that’s another story) I was tormented in the showers daily, shamed and humiliated regularly and framed for stealing.

In the public school system, I was verbally abused, humiliated, set up, mocked, and ostracised. All of this was orchestrated by girls. I attended co-ed schools mostly other than one of the boarding schools. As a girl with two older brothers, I had no desire for a sister due to this. I kept all the bullying to myself. Never told my parents or brothers believing they couldn’t help or would just make things worse.

My inner teen felt deeply ugly and deeply unwanted. I was lucky to call my parents and my brothers my safe place. For many, it was the other way around, as for them the abuse was within their family. I’m still very grateful that opening the front door to our house meant that the abuse was over for another day.

How I experienced my inner teenager demanding that I finally listen to her, occurred much later in my life. PTSD has a way of kicking in at very unexpected times. Mine rose in just that same way.

I was attending an Abba-themed musical performance with my mother after returning to one of the places where I was badly bullied. The venue was an old theatre where I used to perform as a teen ( Acting saved me during these dark times as I was a natural at the craft and took to it with ease. The theatre has often been a place of rescue for those who don’t fit in. It was also mine)

Coming towards the end of the show they performed the song ‘Chiquitita’ and within a few moments of the lyrics kicking in my body began to tremble in reaction. Now looking at the lyrics I understand why. Below is just a bit, but it gives you an idea.

Chiquitita, tell me what’s wrong
You’re enchained by your own sorrow
In your eyes, there is no hope for tomorrow
How I hate to see you like this
There is no way you can deny it
I can see that you’re oh so sad, so quiet

The next song was the final song and everyone was up dancing in front of their seats while I was struggling to conceal a full bore panic attack. I was trying to copy what everyone else was doing but what I was unable to control was the amount of tears flooding down my face. My sleeves were sodden with trying to desperately to wipe them away. I was getting flashbacks and seeing my young teen self terrified behind the stage side curtain. Feeling her desperate need to escape the bullies along with hiding her authentic self behind the characters she played.

My heart was racing in experiencing this while feeling very spacey and out of body (disassociated/fragmented). I could only just breathe. As the song came to an end I quickly wiped more tears and turning to my mother and keeping my head low I told her I had to rush to the toilet and would meet her near the car. I flew down the theatre stairs and outside to the car. Gulping breaths like my life depended on it. I needed space. My mind was spinning too fast.

When my mother arrived with the keys shortly after, I jumped in the passenger seat, put my head between my knees and a wail of agony burst forth from my mouth. My mother of course had no idea and not being the best with anything emotionally sensitive she put her hand on my back and said ‘What’s wrong? You’re normally so sane!’ For some reason that made me laugh hard at the irony of it all.

Why would I be sane after the hell I was put through in school? This was my inner teenager screaming at me to be acknowledged, seen, validated and reclaimed from that time.

Once back at the house my mother drove off and left me alone for a while to get some food at my request. For some reason, hot potato chips have always been my comfort go-to in rough times and I have always needed space when very upset otherwise I feel energetically suffocated.

I screamed hard into my bed pillow several times and then sat on the floor of the running hot shower bawling my eyes out, letting myself feel all the pain and the grief that came with those years. After that purge, I ate all the hot chips, took rescue remedy, felt quite numb, and performed for my mother as I always did saying it was a bit of a flashback but I had a handle on it, and went to bed early with no dreams.

What I did the next day made all the difference. I am always better in the morning. It’s when what I can’t work out at night becomes clear. I went out and bought myself or should I say my inner teen, a diary. I let her choose it. It was full of stars and sparkles. I wrote from her point of view and let her write absolutely anything she wanted, anything. I let rage, hate and any upset be validated and even followed her desire to symbolically chop some of the horrible girls’ heads off in a drawing. I did not judge any of it in any way. I let her have a full reign of feelings and validated them all. Validation. Not advice. Is so damn important.

Then I journeyed within and went and reclaimed the essence of her from behind the curtain in the theatre, bringing her into the light of my sanctuary to be seen, validated, merged with and truly loved by the person that knew and knows her like no other. Me.

That has been the biggest reclaimed fragment of my teen years to date. All other fragments I reclaim just add to her blossoming self.

She is quite different to my younger inner child who is always full of joy and eager for a cuddle. My teen in contrast needs more space, thinks deeply, likes quiet spaces, sits with me as we dangle our feet in the river and loves to hang out in the woods area of my sanctuary. That is her favourite place to dwell. She does come out to the more open area of the sanctuary to snuggle with my younger inner child energies, the spirit animals and my loving male caretaker spirit kin but more often than not, I find her in a beautiful sunny glade within the woods surrounded by wildflowers and lush green grass. My deer kin can often be found with her.

Remember that your inner teen needs as much validation and reclaiming as your inner child does as the teen years can be where a lot of trauma is buried within the subconscious.

It may be as simple as a cuddle, your presence and or validation or to create something they might like within the sanctuary. Just be receptive and open to their needs. Above all. Validate.

Inner child work is one of the bedrocks of my medicine path. I do it with a shamanic flavour as I do most things. If you would like further guidance, come and find me at my website. I would be more than happy to be your guide for reclaiming.

Blessings and hugs to your inner selves.
Odette

(c) O. Nightsky 2024 (excerpt from ‘Wyrd’ A work in progress )