Back when my therapist suggested I had different parts I needed to consider healing, I thought she was nuts. I wasn’t a schizophrenic. But then I began to understand that my inner child had been tantrumming because she wasn’t being allowed to create. And I conceded that maybe I did have different parts to me after all. And maybe me and my younger parts need to get reacquainted.

I’ve been thinking a lot about these different parts of me recently and this is what I have decided. Me and my inner child are good creativity wise. I have indulged her so richly that she trusts that if she needs to play, I will let her. I recognized my inner 20 year old likes to be pampered with new clothing and beauty treatments. My inner 30 year old is health concerned. And my inner 40 year old works on her wisdom lessons earnestly and enthusiastically.Recovering Younger Parts of Me on Shalavee.com

Recognizing all of this, I have done well with maintaining my beauty, I am going to the gym regularly and going to any and all doctor’s that need seeing. My work towards bettering myself and my world is slow but steady. And now in my 50’s, I’m realizing that the piece I am missing is my teenager. My judgment of her has blocked me from being all the good things that she gave me. She was irreverent and very sexy. And it seems that is not “allowable” behavior in my Mommy years.

But irreverence is permission to be authentic in many ways. Permission to break rules and respect yourself for not just fitting in. As a punk, you give other people secret permission to throw off their conformity shackles and be themselves too. As for sexy, that is a state of mind of “I am all that”. And that stuff is powerful stuff.Recovering Younger Parts of Me on Shalavee.com

When I was younger, I saw that as my only power. My body gave me power that my mind wasn’t. I loved it until I resented it. I was angry that my body was aging on me and that it was not my source of power. And I was angry that women treated themselves like this on top of men doing the same. The misogynistic objectification was too much for me to stand. And so I faded to black.

But I’ve come back around and am hoping to find another way to relate to my body and my sexuality in a way that feels empowering and sexy. Not to judge and torture it for heading into menopause. And when I lift myself up, others will rise beside me. Me and my inner teenager need a pow wow on what that looks like.

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