How to Carry Your Inner Child Through Social Spaces
June 11, 2025
There’s something I’ve been noticing lately.
Even when I’m in a room full of people I know — people I feel relatively safe with — I come away completely worn out. Drained in a way that’s hard to explain. Like I’ve been holding something invisible the whole time.
And I think I’ve started to understand what that might be.
I think… it’s my inner child.
Not necessarily the wounded one — though he’s not far behind — but the present one. The tender, sensitive, always-aware part of me who never really left the room. He’s still there, still scanning for danger, still hoping to be liked, still unsure if he really belongs.
Maybe that’s why social spaces feel so intense. Because I’m not just showing up as an adult — I’m bringing my younger self with me. And I’m doing my best to carry him through safely.
That’s a lot to hold. No wonder I collapse when I get home.
So rather than trying to fix this sensitivity, I’m learning how to support it. To build an internal structure that can actually carry my inner child with kindness, so it doesn’t always feel like survival.
Here’s how I’m learning to do that:
🧱 1. Recognize when he’s there
If I feel small, overly eager to please, or hyper-aware of others’ reactions — that’s probably him.
He wants to know he’s safe. He wants to know someone’s looking out for him.
Now, instead of ignoring that part, I try to pause and say internally:
“Hey buddy, I see you. I’m here.”
That’s the start of everything.
🗣️ 2. Talk to him gently
Before I go into a social space, I might say:
“We don’t have to stay long. You don’t need to be impressive. Just be.”
During the interaction:
“I know it’s a lot. You’re doing really well. I’m proud of you.”
And afterward, maybe:
“Thank you for trusting me. I know that was hard.”
🛡️ 3. Let the adult make the call
The child might want to stay longer, win approval, be liked.
But the adult can say:
“We’re leaving now, because we matter too.”
Setting limits — like staying for only 90 minutes, or taking a break halfway through — isn’t avoidance. It’s care.
It teaches the child inside: “I won’t abandon you just to be accepted by others.”
🧘 4. Anchor in the present moment
Little grounding rituals help.
A breath. A hand on the chest. A stone in my pocket. Feeling my feet.
These things remind me:
“I’m here now. I’m not alone. I’m not back there.”
And if I do go back there, that’s okay too. I just don’t have to stay there.
💌 5. Debrief like a good parent would
When I get home, I try not to collapse into criticism. I try to say:
“What was hard about that? What did you need? What would you want to do differently next time?”
I hold the part of me that’s still learning how to be with others without losing himself.
I think what I’m learning — slowly — is that carrying my inner child isn’t a burden.
It’s an act of love.
He trusted me enough to show up. The least I can do is show up for him in return.
Not to fix.
Not to shame.
Just to be there.
And maybe, one day, we won’t just survive social spaces.
Maybe we’ll feel free in them.
But for now, this is enough.
For now, this is the work.