Maybe my inner child isn’t asking to be healed.
Maybe she's not sitting in some dark corner, waiting for me to cradle her, whisper affirmations, or carefully piece her back together.
Maybe she just wants to play.
What if she's tugging at my sleeve right now, grinning with mischief, eyes wide with possibility? What if she's not asking for deep reflection but for a little rebellion?
What if she just double-dog-dared me?
Dared me to color outside the lines.
Dared me to eat dessert before dinner, to ignore the pile of responsibilities for an hour and do something completely, ridiculously unnecessary—just because it feels good.
Dared me to dance barefoot in my kitchen, to run through the rain, to laugh so loudly people turn their heads.
Dared me to say, “This is who I am, and I’m not sorry.”
I’ve spent so much of my life trying to be responsible, put-together, acceptable. I’ve followed the rules, checked the boxes, shrunk myself when the world demanded I be smaller. But deep down, I know I wasn’t meant to live like that.
I was born to dream, to create, to be wild and free. I was once a child who believed in magic, who turned shadows into castles, who loved without fear. And maybe that part of me never left.
Maybe it’s been waiting.
Maybe all the moments I’ve felt restless or stuck weren’t signs of brokenness but invitations—reminders that I don’t need permission to be fully, unapologetically alive.
So today, I’m taking the dare.
I’m letting myself be messy, bold, and free. I’m choosing joy—not the kind that looks good on the outside, but the kind that fills me up from the inside. The kind that reminds me who I’ve always been.
Maybe my inner child isn’t asking to be healed.
Maybe she's just waiting for me to play.
🫰❣️🫖 JRT
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