Loving My Inner Child

 

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It’s a perfect morning. Sunny with a balmy breeze that takes me back to days as a child. Like today, it was around the time of my birthday. My fifth birthday to be exact. I was daydreaming while I sat on the metal swing-set in the backyard. Swinging and singing a made-up song. Hair softly blowing in the wind. Behind me, rows of grapes starting to bud. And everywhere I looked my world was a pretty spring green.

At one point, I started thinking about my life and what it might look like when I came to the end of it. Even at five, I often wondered how God would judge me when I met Him face to face. I thought my life might look like a movie. God reviewing every moment of my life while everyone watched every deed, heard every word, and listened to every thought. It would be fair to think that at five I didn’t have much to worry about, but even then I had secrets I didn’t want to be revealed. The fact that God already knew caused me great shame which, unfortunately, was not enough to keep me godly.

On days like today, I think of that little girl and her young life. So much living yet to do; her thoughts, words, and deeds paling in comparison to all those that would follow.

I will turn 56 soon, and when I do I will remember that earnest girl, far too serious for her years. She is the pensive, sensitive, anxious side of me. She is where depression lives. When I weep for the world so cruel at times that my heart breaks, it is through her eyes that I weep. When I look at the beauty that surrounds me I experience it with the awe and wonder of a child.

Throughout my life, I have tried to ignore her, tried to pretend she isn’t a part of me. But for all her sensitivities she will not be denied. And so, I have learned to love and cherish her. The part of me that is the purest; my heart.

HSPs Moving Forward

Measuring Up

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When you think you’re different from everyone else it’s natural to compare yourself. Compound that with questions like, “why are you so sensitive?” and it’s easy to see why your self-esteem would suffer.

Being highly sensitive means we process our environment with a deeper intensity than most people. Our power lies in knowing we are different and accepting it, using our sensitivity to add another layer of diversity to the world around us.

Friends of a Feather

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~ Sing me a song, dear bird, I long to hear your sweet voice ~