I’ve always had issues with crying, even as a child, not because I didn’t feel my emotions profoundly but because I often felt I wasn’t allowed to express myself in that way. As a result, I developed a knack for saving tears until I thought I could cry without feeling insecure about it.

Somewhere along the way I learned that it was easier to store everything inside and bottle it up—until I felt safe enough to release it. This manifested in a way that I didn’t fully feel emotions for my life for a very long time. I could recount the most tragic events from my past with a sense of detachment, as if it took place in someone else’s life, like I was reading a stranger’s story, but I might become overwhelmed by a random inconvenience.

Until recently, I would cry maybe once or twice a year about something in my life, and it was usually when I was on the phone with customer service or some other equally inappropriate time. It would feel like a faucet being opened, incredibly overwhelming and uncontrollable like my body would store these emotions and lock them away but would occasionally relieve the pressure in awkward ways.

I realized quickly as a child that crying during a movie was more acceptable, and I didn’t need to worry about being “teased” for expressing myself freely within a darkened room. My brother worked at the town theater and could get me in for free, and when the film The Sixth Sense came out, my mother and I went to see it a few times. During one of the scenes in the movie, Cole tells his mother about his grandmother, who was deceased, and he can relay information to her about her past. It was a very emotional scene that I relied on during that time to help rid myself of the tears I had been carrying. 

When the film was released, my neighbor had killed one of my pets. It was clear that he had done this, and it was something that my mom made apparent that she was aware of. We lived when things like this were more acceptable than they are today. Social politics deemed his behavior more acceptable in an area of the world than it should have been.

I feel he was unaccustomed to a person rejecting his claims of innocence, and he called her a few times to deny any wrongdoing. He was a fisherman who beat his wife and his children and ended up admitting himself to the hospital for psychiatric care shortly after this took place. I’ve since made peace with having to experience that, and I am grateful that I didn’t need to spend any more time with him than I already did.

I became more sensitive to my well-being and childhood wounds through my spiritual development. As a result, I went from crying twice a year in the most awkward ways to fully feeling my emotions and being completely caught off guard by them. It felt like I had been wearing protective clothing my entire life without feeling any sensation—to suddenly being over-stimulated by every emotional upset while simultaneously reliving the past and sifting through my memories, trying to recount and make sense of myself.

It was a lot. It was a lot for me to adjust to, and it felt akin to feeling absolutely nothing to everything all at once. For a time, it became easier to hide from the rest of the world, and I lingered in that energy a little longer than I would have liked to, but it felt necessary at the time to be able to get through to the next phase of my life. It felt like the butterfly was wrapped in a cocoon, where transformation occurs at the height of the pain.

Around this time, I saw a video on TikTok. It was about healing childhood wounds by spending time with your younger self. The woman in the video suggested that going out and doing an activity she loved as a child and spiritually, including that version of herself, brought her immense healing.

It’s funny how things like listening to music loudly, privacy, or even being alone amongst the trees signify wealth. We often don’t consider how those opportunities aren’t always available to everyone. But it is very much the case, and being alone in the woods was my safe place as a child, and I tried my best to spend some time in a park within walking distance of my home.

I started to think of my younger self as I sat on a park bench and what kinds of signifiers would have mattered to her. I imagined her sitting next to me and telling her about my life, and I realized she would have loved our time together. She would have found me kind and funny and would have been excited to hear about my big orange cat. She would have been so happy to know that I still write and get excited about life the way she did.

I realized how unimportant those perceived deficits would have mattered to her, and ultimately, they don’t matter to me. Sometimes, it’s easy to see yourself as a failure, no matter who you are or how others might see you. And I was relieved thinking about myself at that age being OK with who I grew up to be, and that gave me so much solace and made me way happier than I expected. It was an exercise that I found so much more emotional, but it felt good to see myself with less judgmental eyes, and I highly recommend it to anyone feeling less than, unaccomplished, or struggling. Just as a practice in reconnecting to your sacred self and finding a more compassionate view of who you truly are.

If you find that it brings up heavy emotions, try to work with that energy and speak to that version of yourself and let them know they are safe now and that you thank them for the lessons they have taught you and the emotions that have resurfaced. You can thank them and let them know it’s no longer necessary to feel those heavy emotions and that sadness, and you can pray that Source takes away your burdens and rids you of what you’ve been carrying.

I can only speak to my personal experience, but I did find this exercise extremely helpful in healing. I am unsure what your experience will be. Still, if you put out the intention that this exercise is beneficial and gentle in its approach, then I feel there is so much opportunity available to you and how you can change how you think and experience life.