Baby Girl

Getting on these people’s internet and talking about the parts of my life I wish weren’t a thing isn’t easy. The hardest part thus far (three posts in lol 🎭) is how much of a community girly I am. My friends and family, both biological and chosen, mean the world to me. Those same friends and family members are the exact people that God is using to help Baby Girl (my authentic inner child) integrate with all the other unlicensed and varyingly unhinged versions of me that are trying to drive the party bus of my internal world. On the outside I consistently present as a mostly-sorta-kinda grown millennial who adolescents keep referring to as “ma’am” 😒, but depending on the circumstances this cutie could be who people are really interacting with. 

I rediscovered this photo of myself during one of the most challenging stints of therapy. The lady was helping me understand that my best efforts to respond to every situation with perfection-moonlighting-as-maturity were being thwarted by my inner child. I was so angry at her. I was wrongfully blaming her for the havoc unacknowledged and unresolved pain was wreaking on my life. I remember yelling at myself, “LISTEN, I’M SORRY FOR WHATEVER HAPPENED TO YOU, BUT I NEED YOU TO GET OVER IT SO ADULT ME CAN GET ON WITH MY LIFE”! Sitting in the uncomfortable silence of confrontation with the most fragile part of me, I realized it wasn’t just what had happened to her before at the hands of others, but what was happening to her right now. And I was the one doing it. I resolved that day to be nicer to my inner child -to myself. I acknowledged her as not only a part of me, but a welcome, wanted, loved and cherished part of me. I gathered images of her so that I could put a face to the precious and tender soul I was cohabitating with. I placed all the different versions of her in a safe emotional space in one of her favorite places at one of her favorite times: the ocean at sunset. I named her Baby Girl so that I would remember to treat and care for her as such. I wrapped her in the truth of God’s word and placed a poster size version on my ceiling so I would be reminded daily to love her because she is so loved by Him. 

If this was a different blog, this is where I would sell you the lie that it was perfectly smooth sailing after that and me and my inner child rode into forever in perfect, self-actualized bliss. But this is Flailing Flourish where I aim to tell the truth and try to give grace to the fact that my truth changes every day as I grow more and more in wisdom and understanding. The truth (for now) is that in the process of trying to love Baby Girl and allow her perspectives to be shared and her voice to be heard I end up stepping on the toes of people I love. As I try to parent little me, I’m learning that I can be a ferocious mama bear (much like my own mother) who will come out guns blazing at the first hint of perceived danger. Old me would apologize for this. New me is embracing the discomfort of the awareness and praying for the discernment to know where Baby Girl ends and my ego begins. New me is thankful to finally be comprehending that I don’t need to be perfect to be loved and grateful for the community God is using to teach all the different versions of her how to rest in that.

With Flailing and Flourish,

Kimani Sioux