Integrating My Inner Child: Reparenting the Protector who Kept Me Safe - and Alone
Split at the Gate: The War Between Wanting and Withdrawing
I saw her walking toward me — not just beautiful, but magnetic, like the air around her carried its own current. When our eyes met, she smiled. For a moment, the familiar spark ignited: attraction, curiosity, the desire to connect. And then, almost instantly, another voice surged in: Pull back. Don’t go there. It’s not safe. And I looked away.
As she passed, I felt a cocktail of emotions — the dull thud of powerlessness, the sting of shame, and a strange, brittle victory. I’d kept myself safe. I’d avoided the threat.
It wasn’t fear of her. It was fear of once again disappearing into someone else, of losing the edges of my sense of self. That split-second war between wanting and withdrawing reminded me that part of me still stands guard at the gate, unwilling to risk vulnerability.
“It wasn’t fear of her. It was fear of once again disappearing into someone else, of losing my edges.”
The First Split
I first became aware of this inner tug-of-war after a turbulent relationship as a young man. I had no understanding of how to assert boundaries back then, and I would give up my own power to meet my girlfriend’s emotional needs.
I didn’t understand what was happening to me at the time. I felt disoriented and completely unprepared for the turmoil that unfolded with a young woman who, like me, carried her own unhealed childhood wounds. That relationship pulled something hidden to the surface: my wounded inner child, determined to keep me safe at all costs.
Desperate to protect me, that child jumped in every time I felt a spark. And while well-meaning, he kept me locked in a pattern of pulling away just when connection became possible. I had built a prison out of protection.
“I had built a prison out of protection.”
The Child Who Guards the Door
Every time this pattern surfaced — attraction tangled with fear — I felt intense shame and powerlessness. It kept me from stepping into the kind of grounded masculinity I wanted to embody.
Years later, I married someone who also had an unhealed inner child. Over time, our marriage withered through a thousand small cuts. Again, I abandoned myself for the sake of connection and keeping the peace.
Divorce, especially with children, forced me to develop strong boundaries — for my own well-being and for my kids. That was the journey I needed to stop abandoning myself.
“Again, I abandoned myself for the sake of connection and keeping the peace.”
When Attraction Feels Like a Threat
Here’s the paradox: I want love. I want intimacy. I want connection that’s real, safe, magnetic.
But when I fel drawn to someone — especially with romantic or physical attraction — I also felt a flood of unease. That desire revealed something I was taught to hide:
“They’ll know I want their approval and acceptance, just like I wanted from my mother. And I’ll feel ashamed for wanting that from them. I’ll feel judged and criticized — just like my mother did to me. I’ll feel below them. And I can’t let that happen again.”
That’s the voice of my younger self — a boy who learned that to want was to be humiliated, to need was to be controlled, and to feel was to lose power.
The Shamed Inner Child
So much of my withdrawing, pausing, and overthinking is a defense born from that boy’s experience. He reached for love and was met with contempt. He expressed feelings and was mocked. He cried and was told, “Stop being selfish.”
That was the first shame — the shame of a child who only wanted to be accepted, only to learn that his needs were something to be embarrassed about.
Then came the second shame — the shame of the adult me. The man who stood in the corner at parties, heart pounding, eyes catching on someone across the room but feet frozen to the floor. The man who smiled, nodded, and swallowed his words instead of taking a step forward. The man who lived in a continuous fawning state, hoping to be liked by never taking up too much space.
“It was a shame that looped in on itself — child-shame, adult-shame, father-shame — all reinforcing the belief that I wasn’t enough.”
And then there was the third shame — the one that cut the deepest. My father, before he left my life when I was a boy, had been a very masculine man. I imagined him watching me in my twenties, hesitating to speak to a woman, trapped in my own anxiety. I believed he would have seen my behavior as weakness, as a failure to be the kind of man he was. That imagined disappointment burned almost as much as the rejection I feared from women.
It was a shame that looped in on itself — child-shame, adult-shame, father-shame — all reinforcing the belief that I wasn’t enough. That I wasn’t the kind of man my father would respect. That somehow, I had already failed before I even began.
🌱 From Buried to Blooming
As children, we had no choice but to attach to our caregivers. If they were toxic, we often had to compromise parts of ourselves just to survive. That self-compromise leaves its mark, shaping how we see ourselves and how we connect with others. But as adults, we do have choices. We no longer need to keep those survival strategies.
One of the turning points in my healing came when I found a way to reconnect with the child in me who still feared that love would cost him his identity. Through guided inner work, I began showing him that love could be safe — that he could want connection without disappearing.
“One of the turning points in my healing came when I found a way to reconnect with the child in me who still feared that love would cost him his identity.”
And there was another conversation I never thought I’d have — one that became just as important. I sat down, closed my eyes, and imagined speaking directly to my deceased father. I told him what it was like to have him taken from me and to grow up without him. I described the emotional minefield of living with my mother, the years of walking on eggshells, and the triple shame that had haunted me.
In that imagined space, I could feel him listening. Not judging. Not disappointed. Just hearing me. And I knew, deep down, that he would understand my struggles — that my hesitation, my anxiety, my years of fawning did not make me less of a man in his eyes. That realization loosened something that had been locked inside me for decades.
“Now, I can feel desire without collapsing into shame. I can protect my inner child without silencing him. I can carry my father’s strength without the weight of his imagined disappointment.”
The more I practiced these dialogues — with my inner child and with my deceased father — the more my self-talk shifted. I became more consciously aware of the thoughts of my inner child, and I began to challenge those thoughts which were no longer true. I began to believe that love can nurture the authentic self rather than stifle it. Now, I can feel desire without collapsing into shame. I can protect my inner child without silencing him. I can carry my father’s strength without the weight of his imagined disappointment.
This is what I mean by From Buried to Blooming — not a quick fix, but a sacred, mythic unfolding: one breath, one choice, one truth at a time.
⚠️ These stories are told from my lived experience and healing journey. For a deeper understanding of my intent, please read my post: Why I Share These Stories: A Note on Truth, Healing, and Voice
🌱 A Sacred Invitation to Go Deeper
If you’ve felt this too — the tug of longing and the fear of collapse — you’re not alone. You’re not broken. You’re simply meeting your protector at the gate of transformation. You can show that protector he’s safe and loved. What happened to you as a child was not your fault. But now, once you know how, it becomes your responsibility to reparent yourself.
When I began doing this work, I discovered a way to meet that protector and the child it’s guarding — a practice that allowed me to feel desire without losing myself, to connect without collapsing into shame.
This process became the foundation of my From Buried to Blooming coaching program — a guided journey designed to help you:
Reconnect with the child within in a safe, supported way
Release the patterns that keep you from feeling whole in relationships
Build inner safety so love feels expansive, not threatening
Step into a mythic framework that honors your pain and your power
