Dear little me, I love you
My journey of "inner child" healing as an (autistic) adult began with a simple letter...
Iâve noticed over time that itâs quite easy for me to become stuck in a pattern of beingâresponding to a narrative formed in trauma about who I am, what Iâm capable of, and whether Iâm worthy of the sense of safety and belonging I desire (without compromising and self editing or dismissing my needs).
Though I can really only speak to my own experiences, it appears as a common theme to me that many autistic people have had to practice scripts in order to navigate social interactions relatively unscathed, but over time the reliance on the scripts became subconscious and automated to the point that we forget that we are a thinking and feeling and diverse individuals beneath the role and series of âif/thenâ rules weâve compiled and continue storing.
I think it helps to have a reminder that itâs okay to drop the scripts and roles, or at least to know you are more than your ability to perform well in order to survive the systems built without you in mind.
With that ramble, I want to share a modified version of a letter I wrote for myself when first diving into reparenting and healing my people pleasing patterns (and discovering my authentic self under decades of trauma and masking for my protection).
I wanted some form of a reminder for myself that felt more impactful than a list of arbitrary affirmations, so I began by wondering âwhat are all the assurances I wish someone had given me? What did I need to hear most as an (often struggling, misunderstood, and deeply lonely) undiagnosed autistic child?â and then wrote it all down.
Dear little me,
Iâm so proud of you.
Youâre a gift, not a burden. Itâs okay to cry, and itâs okay to be afraid. Itâs safe to feel the âbig feelingsâ, and itâs okay to not have all the answers.
Itâs okay to say ânoâ. You donât have to help, give, or do anything you donât want to. You donât have to mask, pretend, perform or hide. You donât have to do or be anything but yourselfâI promise itâs enough and never too much. You are loved, just as you are right now.
You can rest and play, and question things. You can explore, become, and have anything you dream of. I admire your honesty, kindness, bravery, and endless curiosity. Iâm inspired by your creativity and ability to live so fully in the moment. Youâre so smart, and a good person with a beautiful heart.
Youâre different, not broken. Youâve never been broken or less, and Iâm sorry that you were ever made to feel or believe that you were. Itâs okay to be different, and itâs safe to be yourself. Youâre wonderful, and you inspire me. I want to be more like you.
Youâre so precious to me, and Iâll cherish you forever. Iâm here now, and Iâm invested. I want to protect you, and Iâm not going anywhere. Everything is going to be okay.
Yes, that internal critic can be difficult to retrain. But you are soundly on your way!
Yes, indeed Gift is the word for it, isnât it? And I love that you capitalized it! Very fitting for what a beautiful thing it is! đĽ°
I have not really started a proper Substack yet, because when I joined, I did so primarily in order to read and enjoy what my daughter writes on her Substack. So Iâve mostly just been an observer/reader. But the more I read and explore other writersâ work, I am so blessed and so impressed by so many. So Iâve begun to âlikeâ and comment occasionally.
I have to say though, that Iâve felt a bit odd being just an observer/reader, thinking perhaps itâs rather strange to some peopleâŚâwho is she?âŚwhatâs she doing on here?âŚwhy doesnât she have any info about herself/have a proper Substack?â You know, the imposter syndrome kind of thingâŚor that feeling that youâve walked into some place where you donât belong đ
But, I knew those were thoughts that were too skewed toward the negative, and went ahead and shared my âlikesâ and comments despite those thoughts, knowing that they were kind, supportive comments, and would most likely be appreciated by people, regardless of my lack of a âproperâ Substack. Youâve confirmed that đĽ°
Anyhow, I share all that because l am a semi-retired mental health therapist, and just began to think yesterday that perhaps I might have some things I could write, perhaps even should write, that would be encouraging and helpful to others, from all that Iâve learned (through my education and experience, but even more so, from my clients!)
Then today I read your post, and it was so refreshing, insightful, courageous and beautiful! I love, love, love seeing the healing a person is making from fear, rejection, shame and trauma, to truth and joy and freedom!
It is so exciting, energizing, powerful!
I applaud you in all the hard, persevering work you have done!! đđźđđźđđź â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
And now Iâm thinking more seriously about possibly starting a âproperâ Substack, just to share tools and encouragement and truth âşď¸
Cheering you on in your continued journey of loving yourself đđ
This is really fabulous, Rowan!
What a wonderfully affirming letter to write to yourself. A beautiful gift, from you to you.
It is a wonderful thing to be an encouraging best friend to yourself! â¤ď¸