#innerchildhealing

First of all it is completely valid and fine to struggle with hypersexuality while regressed or before regressing. This can be for any number of reasons and all of them are okay! It does not make you any less valid or precious. You deserve healing, love and gentleness. I will also be making a post for affirmations to deal with impure regression and hypersexuality.

🧮stop regressing if you need to, if intrusive thoughts or feelings get too much stop regressing, take a break from it, clear your head and calm down🧮

🧃do affirmations, remind yourself that you are precious, your regression is healing, you are clean and deserving of love🧃

🖍️avoid triggers, if you know what triggers hypersexuality try to avoid them extra hard while small, if it is not having close skin contact, not wearing tight close or whatever🖍️

🧮don't be shy to cope, cope however you need to, let out your painful feelings, scream, break things, run or write whatever helps you let it out do it🧮

🧃do not act on it, do not act on intrusive thoughts or feelings no matter how much you think it might help it won't, it won't make them go away it will make it worse🧃

🖍️journal, journal about your feelings, about what hurts and what helps, build skills that work for you, they don't have to be what other people do, it is your healing and nobody else's🖍️

🧃talk it trough, talk about your feelings with somebody, be it a therapist or somebody you trust, you deserve a safe space🧃

🧮teach yourself, teach yourself you do not need to do sexual things to deserve love and kindness, you have a right to gentleness and to being fragile, you don't have to be pure to be loved🧮

🖍️don't compare yourself, comparing yourself with others is never a good idea especially not with this, it might feel like you are alone with this issue but you are not, others struggle with it but most regressors don't talk about it as it's a very personal thing🖍️

There's a thing that happens when you're afraid of losing something.

You hold it tighter. You give more. You try to create conditions so perfect that there's no reason for anyone to leave. You pour yourself out completely — and then you wait. Silently. Desperately. For them to pour back into you the same way.

And when they don't, you don't understand why. Because you gave so much. Because you loved so hard. Because you did everything you thought love was supposed to look like.

What I didn't understand then was that I was loving people the way I needed to be loved — and expecting them to receive it as a blueprint. A hint. A mirror they would naturally reflect back.

They didn't. Not because they didn't care. But because nobody told them what I actually needed. Because I never told them. Because I thought love meant you shouldn't have to.

And so the cycle continued. I'd give. They'd receive it as just that — a gift, not a language. I'd feel unseen. I'd give more. They'd pull away from the weight of it. And I'd be left wondering what I did wrong when really the problem was what I never said.

A self-fulfilling prophecy. Built on silence and unspoken needs.

Understanding this didn't fix everything. But it cracked something open.

I stopped asking why don't they love me right and started asking why can't I just ask for what I need.

That's the uncomfortable part.

The Two Voices Inside You

There is a difference between the voice that says 'something is wrong' and the voice that screams 'everything is falling apart.' One is your intuition. The other is your inner child, reacting from a wound that never healed.

When you grew up in an environment where love was conditional, inconsistent, or absent, your nervous system learned to stay on high alert. Silence meant danger. A slow reply meant you were not good enough. And to survive, you developed a hyper-vigilant mind that scanned for threats in every interaction.

Now, even in safe relationships, that old alarm system can go off. You feel a knot in your stomach, your mind races, and you cannot tell if you are sensing a real red flag or simply reliving an old fear.

The Inner Child's Voice

Your inner child speaks in urgency and absolutes. She says 'fix this now or I will be abandoned.' She rereads texts looking for hidden meaning because she learned that words could not be trusted. She needs constant reassurance because she never received consistent love. Her voice is loud, desperate, and feels like survival.

When you feel a desperate need to check in, to ask 'are we okay?' when nothing has happened, that is not intuition. That is a child who once had to fight for love and never learned she could just rest in it.

The Wise Adult's Voice

Your wise adult self speaks with grounded certainty. She notices something feels off but does not need to act immediately. She can sit with discomfort without spiraling. She trusts that she can handle whatever comes her way, even if it is painful.

Intuition does not panic. It informs. It says 'this is not right for me' without demanding that someone else fix it. It is calm, clear, and patient.

How to Reparent in the Moment

When you notice the anxious voice rising, pause. Take a breath. Ask yourself: 'Whose voice is this? Is this my adult self, or is this the part of me that still feels like a small child waiting to be loved?'

Then, speak to that inner child. Tell her: 'I see you. I know you are scared. But I am here now. I am an adult, and I will not let anything happen to us. You do not have to earn love anymore. You are safe.'

Over time, this practice builds a new neural pathway. Your nervous system learns that not every silence is a threat. Not every slow reply is a rejection. And your worth is not something you have to prove.

The Bottom Line

You cannot heal what you do not recognize. By learning to distinguish the voice of your inner child from the voice of your true self, you stop reacting to the past and start responding to the present. That is the difference between fear and inner knowing.

And that is how you reparent yourself into a place of peace.

The Illusion of External Rescue

Your inner child is still waiting for someone to finally see her, to finally choose her without conditions. She learned early that love is something you earn by being good, by being quiet, by being what others need. This is the original wound—the belief that your worth is contingent on how much you can give before you break. Detachment, in this context, is not about becoming cold or distant. It is about reclaiming the authority that was never given to you. You stop chasing because you finally realize: no amount of adult approval can fill the hole left by childhood neglect. The only one who can truly show up for that child is you.

Reparenting as the Foundation of Detachment

When you reparent your inner child, you stop looking for parents in your partners, friends, or bosses. You stop tolerating breadcrumbs because you no longer need someone to prove your worth. Every time you set a boundary, you are telling your inner child: 'I see you. I will protect you. You are safe now.' This is the deepest form of detachment—not from people, but from the desperate hope that someone else will finally make you feel whole. You become the stable, consistent adult you always needed. And from that place, relationships become optional, not survival.

The Practice of Witnessing Without Grasping

True detachment means seeing people as they are, not as potential saviors. When you accept that someone's behavior is a reflection of their own wounds, not a measure of your lovability, you stop clinging. You witness their inconsistency, their unavailability, their mixed signals—and you don't take it personally. This is the gift of reparenting: you no longer need others to regulate your emotional state. You have your own back. You trust your own yes and your own no. And in that trust, you find a peace that no external relationship can offer.

Conclusion: Becoming the Parent You Needed

Detachment is not a loss. It is a homecoming. When you stop begging for love, you realize you have been the source all along. Your inner child does not need to be rescued—she needs to be held. And you are finally strong enough to hold her. Let that be your new attachment: to your own healing, your own worth, your own quiet, unshakable peace.

🎨 - i personally have a hard time talking when small so here r some things i’ve learned that help lots!

flash cards to show your carer or whoever you’re with (more, hungry, bathroom, etc etc)

learning baby sign language

learn to spell in sign language with your carer ! me and my bubba do this frequently

use your notes app in your phone if need be :3

teach your caregiver how to read minds !! /silly

use very small words ! some of us can speak very little, but enough to get needs met !

💔 Have you ever felt like your own worst enemy?

The quiet sabotage when things start to go well. The voice whispering, “This isn’t for you. You don’t deserve this.” It comes from a deeper place—years of insecurity, shame, or maybe a harsh inner critic we inherited somewhere along the way.

But what if we rewrote that script?

💡 What if you believed this instead:

➡️ “I don’t need to prove my worth. I am worthy as I am.”

➡️ “Good things aren’t for someone else; they’re for me too.”

The truth is, our feelings of insecurity and shame often grow from old wounds—reactions to rejection, failures, or even love withheld. But you don’t have to keep carrying that weight.

Steps Toward Feeling Deserving of the Good

🌟 Acknowledge the Shame: You don’t have to hide it. By recognizing it, you take away its power.

🌟 Redefine ‘Deserving’: Deserving doesn’t mean earning or perfection. It means being open to receiving good things because they’re meant for you.

🌟 Celebrate the Small Wins: Whether it’s setting a boundary, pursuing a passion, or simply saying, “I’m proud of myself.”

Here’s a Challenge for You

🌿 Today, choose one thing you’d say to a friend if they were doubting themselves. Then, say it to yourself. Write it down. Repeat it. Live it.

✨ You don’t need to fix yourself to feel worthy. You just need to remind yourself that you already are.

Sitting in the dark because it brings far more comfort than the light.

There is nothing here for all my doubts and fears, and at the bottom, the well of all my tears.

There, a child is crying, a teenager is screaming, and a young woman is trying desperately to find meaning.

I look to them with pity; their emotions are plenty, overwhelm wrapping me like vines, the thorns of each new and old emotion digging in.

My blood, sweat, and tears— yet life never feels like a win. How long must I carry the weight I thought I had dropped?

When will I heal enough to live and not exist, to thrive and not survive, to find joy in everyday life?

To find solace in those that love me, to find beauty in those that accept me, to stand in awe of my reflection, to see the me those loving eyes mirror back.

To find comfort in the words that soothe the crying child, to calm the screaming teenager, to guide the young woman, explaining that life is an adventure that doesn’t need a plan.

To help the survivor understand that in order to thrive, she must let go of control, to let be, to not look back— the future is waiting, and the present is calling.

Healing may not be linear, but it’s a checkpoint— so even if we have to go back, we can always move forward.

And one day, we will stand firm in ourselves; we will whisper, I love you.