When Was the Last Time You Hung Out With Your Inner Child?

After I returned home to New York in the spring, I was experiencing an overwhelming lack of motivation. Getting out of bed, working, and even talking to people felt like a chore. This wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling, but I couldn’t pinpoint the source. Was it burnout? Or maybe I didn’t fully process my breakup? I had a lot of work and travel at the time, which felt like a good thing to keep me occupied, but maybe all the distractions had thwarted my cycle of grieving my first relationship. I casually mentioned it to my therapist in a session because I find it challenging to take proper care of myself when I’m in this state. It’s the tension between feeling the weight of all the shit I have to do and wanting to completely surrender to the listlessness. 

My therapist asked me a simple but unexpected question: what age do you feel like when you’re in this state? 

Without hesitation, age 11 popped into my mind.

Age 11 holds a certain weight in my life. Before then, my world felt bright, active, and fully engaged. But just a few months before turning 12, I experienced my first panic attack. It marked the start of what felt like an endless cycle of worry, fear, and isolation.

And so, we began to explore that inner child—what did 11-year-old me need?