I met myself for the first time in adulthood. I thought I seemed familiar. My façade identity created to cover up wounds and damage had almost fully suffocated my inner child. I was lost when I came up for air. I knew I was in there somewhere, but I couldn’t trust myself to show up when I needed me.

I met my authentic self and she was an angry, frightened, feral beast. No emotional regulation skills. No concept of how to relate to human life. I felt like Leeloo, or Grendel, or a cult member struggling to return to daily society. I toiled in tears just for basic connection and communication.

I met my Authentic Self. She had a lot to say. She was exhausted by silence and complacence and denial. I debriefed her, soothed her, and taught her how to eat breakfast. I combed her hair and gave her hugs, praise, and kindness. I raised her the way I should have been raised.

Slowly, gently, I learned how to love. I showed love for myself, others, small things in the world, animals, and dreams. Hope and contentment were back on the table. Synapses fired in new patterns.

I met myself where I was, and I saved my own life.

That’s how I know it’s possible.