Some days, emotions hit before you even know why.
I woke up feeling off. Not upset, but not myself either. It wasn’t until later in the day, as I tried to make sense of the heaviness, that it hit me—the waxing crescent moon was in Pisces.
Of course.
Pisces is my moon sign, so it didn’t surprise me that this energy was stirring up something deep and reflective. But this time, instead of pushing it away, I decided to lean in.
I went back to revisit some of the intuitive guidance sessions I’ve done—sessions just like the ones I now offer to my clients—and one in particular stood out.
I had done it as part of my training, and it’s one I hadn’t fully unpacked yet.
I remembered how raw it felt at the time and realized there was still more to uncover.
The Limiting Belief That Opened the Door
The session began with me exploring the fear of being ridiculed if I fail.
It was a fear I hadn’t fully confronted before, at least not in this way.
But as the session unfolded, it became clear that this belief had deeper roots than I expected.
It took me to a scene.
And that’s where the story begins.
10 Years Old—A Perfect Yard, A Dark House
Reviewing the transcript of the session, I was struck by how vividly it captured the scene that unfolded.
I was ten years old, standing in the dining room of my childhood home.
The veranda doors were open, and I was looking out to the pool and the manicured lawn.
Everything outside looked beautiful, calm, even perfect.
But inside—inside felt dark. Not just dimly lit. It felt cold.
I had described feeling the cold on my upper arms, like there was a breeze brushing against me even though I was inside.
But that wasn’t the part that caught me off guard
The Shrinking Feeling
As I stood there, I started to feel like I was physically shrinking.
It wasn’t a metaphor—it felt real.
I could feel my body getting smaller, curling inward, collapsing.
And then the words came through:
“I wanted to disappear.”
That hit me.
Because even though I was standing in this big, beautiful house, what I felt was the opposite of expansive.
I felt invisible.
Like the only way to feel safe was to make myself small enough to go unnoticed.
What My Subconscious Revealed
As we kept going, the words that surfaced were clear and direct:
“You deserve to be seen.”
“Your voice is important.”
“You bring value—speak.”
“Speak.”
“Speak.”
It echoed—over and over—like a voice trying to break through years of silence.
And yet, even as those words rang out, there was something heavier beneath them.
Coming Out of the Event—A Sudden Urgency
I came out of the event, floating above it, looking down at the scene below.
And that’s when it hit me.
A sudden, intense urge came through—“Get her out of there.”
It wasn’t planned.
It wasn’t something I was prepared for.
But I couldn’t ignore it.
I even asked my guide to refer to the inner child healing script because it felt so clear and urgent—this wasn’t over.
I had to go back in.
Meeting My Inner Child
That’s when I saw her.
She was shrunken.
She looked dirty—too small for a 10-year-old.
And the most jarring part?
I knew that wasn’t how I actually looked.
I was always clean and tidy.
So what I was seeing wasn’t my outer appearance.
It was a reflection of what was happening inside me.
She was shrouded.
That’s the word—shrouded—as if a dark cloud had wrapped itself around her.
She couldn’t even look me in the eye.
I tried, but she just kept her head down, avoiding my gaze completely.
And that broke me.
I was instructed to take her by the hand, since I couldn’t make eye contact.
And somehow, that, I could do.
I led her outside—to a tree that used to be a safe space for me when I was younger.
We sat there, and that’s when the questions started.
She asked me, “When will this end?”
And I couldn’t answer her.
Not because I didn’t know the answer.
But because it felt too heartbreaking to say it out loud.
Because the truth was—
It had only just begun.
And then my guide asked me a question.
“Do you want to take her out of there?”
“Do you want to bring her with you?”
There was no hesitation.
I couldn’t leave her.
I knew that.
I couldn’t leave her there in the dark, shrunken and small—still waiting for something to
change.
The only option I had—the only choice—was to take her with me.
Bringing Her Home
I was instructed to breathe.
To send her love.
I envisioned light—soft and pink—filling my heart and reaching out to hers.
And as the light surrounded her, it formed a bubble.
I kept breathing, and the bubble started to shrink—
Getting smaller and smaller—
Until she was small enough to fit inside my heart.
I pulled her close—not just physically, but spiritually.
I brought her home.
The Weight of an Unseen Wound
Even after the session ended, the image of my shrunken inner child stayed with me.
It was haunting—not because of how she looked, but because of what she represented.
She was me.
And seeing her like that made me face a painful truth—
I had spent years trying to disappear.
Years making myself smaller.
Not speaking up.
Not asking for help.
Not allowing myself to be seen.
Because somewhere deep inside, I had learned that being seen—being visible—meant being vulnerable.
And being vulnerable didn’t feel safe.
How It Showed Up in My Life
Looking back, I could see how that lesson shaped my life.
It showed up in my friendships and relationships—
Choosing partners where I felt like I had to earn their love
Rather than simply receiving it.
And struggling with friendships—
Overexplaining myself
Because I didn’t feel heard or understood—
Wanting to be seen
But afraid of what it would mean.
It showed up in my parenting—
Pouring myself into creating safety
And protection for my children,
Determined to make sure they never felt the way I did.
It showed up in the way I pushed myself to succeed—
As if proving my worth
Could erase the times I felt invisible.
But it also showed up in my fear of stability—
Running away from relationships—
Afraid of what it would mean to lean into true love—
And walking away from people who saw me
Because being seen still didn’t feel safe.
I didn’t realize at the time
That I was constantly running—
Running from relationships—
Running from myself—
And running from the shrunken child inside me—
Until one day I finally stopped.
I finally stopped running and turned toward her.
And in turning toward her,
I began to reconnect with myself—the parts of me that were hidden away.
It wasn’t instant healing.
But it was the first step—the moment I chose to stop hiding
and start reclaiming my voice.
The Science Behind Inner Child Work
As abstract as these experiences might sound, there is a scientific foundation for why they feel so real and why they create such lasting change.
Our subconscious mind stores emotions, memories, and patterns that shape the way we see the world.
Psychologists like Carl Jung believed that within each of us is an inner child—a part of our psyche that holds the emotions, beliefs, and wounds we picked up during childhood.
When those wounds go unprocessed, they become triggers.
They drive our adult behaviours without us even realizing it.
Neuroscience supports this too.
Studies on memory reconsolidation show that we can actually reprogram emotional memories—not by erasing them, but by updating them with new, more empowering information.
But what happened during this session wasn’t just reprogramming.
It wasn’t me trying to think differently or forcing myself to see the situation in a new way.
Instead, the reframing came from within.
It was my subconscious mind—the part of me that already knew the truth—finally revealing it in a way that I was ready to hear and accept.
I didn’t erase what happened to me as a child.
But I gave the child something she didn’t have before—
Love
Safety.
And the belief that our voice matters.
Emotions Don’t Just Live in the Mind—They Live in the Body
For me, this process went even deeper because I’m not someone who naturally taps into emotions. Instead, I feel them physically.
During the session, I noticed tingling sensations in my body—my arms, my throat, and even my chest.
These weren’t random.
They were physical echoes of emotions I hadn’t fully processed.
This connection between emotions and physical sensations is something modern research on embodied processing has started to explain.
Somatic healing practices—like breathwork, tapping, and guided visualization—work because emotions don’t just live in our minds.
They live in our nervous system.
But here’s the thing—traditional cultures have always known this.
Traditional Chinese medicine teaches that emotions are stored in specific organs—the lungs hold grief, the liver holds anger.
Yoga has worked with the chakra system for centuries, mapping energy centres in the body that mirror emotional and psychological states.
Indigenous healing practices around the world have long used movement, breath, and rituals to release what is stored in the body.
Modern science is only now catching up to what these ancient traditions have always understood—healing isn’t just about the mind.
It’s about the body, too.
And this session reminded me of that truth.
Turning Pain into Purpose
Doing this work hasn’t just changed my life—it has shaped my mission.
Because now I know so many of us are carrying wounds we don’t even realize are there.
We’re walking around with shrunken inner children hiding inside us.
And the worst part?
We blame ourselves—for not being able to move forward, for struggling with confidence, for feeling stuck in our relationships, or for never quite feeling worthy no matter how much we achieve.
But it’s not our fault.
It’s the impact of those early experiences.
And when we finally acknowledge those wounds—when we finally stop running and start healing—everything can change.
That’s why I do this work.
Because I know what it feels like to be small.
And I also know how freeing it can be to finally feel seen.
This session was just one step in my journey.
But it’s also why I’m so passionate about helping others start theirs.
If this story resonated with you, I invite you to stay connected.
This is just one of the events I’ve uncovered during my own healing journey.
Over the coming weeks, I’ll be sharing more stories—each one peeling back a different layer, revealing new lessons, and offering insights into how we can reclaim our voice and rediscover our wholeness.
My hope is that by sharing these experiences, you might recognize a piece of yourself in my story.
That it might spark a moment of reflection or even healing of your own.
And if you feel ready to explore this work more deeply for yourself—or if you simply want to follow along—you can subscribe to my blog for updates as I continue to share this journey.
Because healing is possible.
And it starts here.
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