Inner Child
August 12, 2026
Look What I Found
There is a little girl inside many of us who still wants to say:
“Look what I found!”
Maybe it is a pretty stone she picked up outside.
A flower.
A drawing.
Something she made with her own hands.
Something she discovered and couldn’t wait to tell someone about.
She comes running, full of excitement, holding her little treasure out in front of her.
“Look!”
And maybe the response she gets is barely a response at all.
“That’s nice.”
“Oh, that’s pretty.”
And then the moment passes.
Nothing terrible happened.
No one yelled.
No one told her to stop.
But something quiet can happen inside a child when her excitement isn’t met with excitement.
She begins to wonder if maybe what feels special to her isn’t really that special.
So the next time she finds something wonderful, she hesitates.
Maybe she doesn’t show it.
And eventually, she learns not to bring her treasures at all.
Years later, that little girl is grown.
She may still have that same spark inside her. She may still get excited about things. She may discover something new and feel that familiar little rush of I can’t wait to tell someone!
And then she may hear a quiet, familiar response.
“That’s nice.”
And suddenly, the feeling is bigger than the moment.
Because sometimes it isn’t really the grown woman who is disappointed.
It’s the little girl.
The one who is still standing there, holding something she loves, hoping someone will look at her and say:
“I see it. That’s wonderful. Tell me all about it.”
Healing the inner child doesn’t always mean going back and changing what happened.
Sometimes it means noticing what still happens inside us today.
Noticing when we become embarrassed by our excitement.
Noticing when we stop sharing something because we expect someone to dismiss it.
Noticing when we tell ourselves, “It’s silly. Nobody really cares.”
And then gently turning toward that younger part of ourselves.
“No. Come here. Show me.”
Let her tell you about it.
Let her be excited.
Let her show you the little things she found along the way.
Because maybe she never needed someone to tell her that every treasure was extraordinary.
Maybe she simply needed someone to be happy that she was happy.
And perhaps that’s one of the quietest forms of healing:
Learning to stop putting down the things that make your heart light up.
Learning that your excitement doesn’t have to be justified.
Learning that something doesn’t have to be important to everyone else to be important to you.
If you’re learning to see yourself with a little more honesty and compassion, you may also enjoy The Mirror I Never Expected to Find.
And sometimes, when you find yourself holding something wonderful and wishing someone would say,
“Look what you found!”
You can say it to yourself.
“Look what you found.”
And this time, don’t rush past it.
Stay for the moment.
Smile.
Be proud.
Let yourself be excited.
Because that little girl is still there.
And she still has treasures to show you.
A Quiet Reflection
Sometimes the part of us that still longs to be seen doesn’t need an answer.
She just needs us to stop, listen, and say:
“I see you. Show me.”