Sometimes we think self-acceptance is about fixing ourselves.

But often, it’s about softening the war inside.

Lately, I’ve noticed a familiar pull toward lemon cake—almost nightly. Not out of hunger, but out of a craving I couldn’t name at first. Loneliness, maybe. Uncertainty. A need for something warm, predictable, kind. I’ve also noticed the growing frustration in me—another part—that wants to feel lighter, to eat with intention, to move closer to my goals.

So I did something different.
I wrote a peace treaty between the part of me that needs comfort and the part of me that wants structure.

This is what inner child work can actually look like:

🕊️ Internal Peace Treaty

Between My Inner Child and My Inner Parent

Article I: Shared Intentions
We both want what’s best for Alex.
The child longs to feel safe, comforted, and seen.
The parent longs to guide, protect, and build a life of health and joy.
We agree: both longings are valid. Both will be honoured.

Article II: The Cake Clause
When the child reaches for cake, it is not a failure.
It is a message: “I’m overwhelmed,” or “I need sweetness,” or “I feel alone.”
The parent agrees to pause, listen, and respond with kindness.
The child agrees to try pausing too—just for a moment. No punishment. Just curiosity.
Cake is not forbidden. But it will be chosen with awareness, not urgency.

Article III: Movement Toward Health
The parent will not demand perfection.
No crash diets. No cold punishments.
Instead: small steps, loving choices.
Water, movement, breath, and presence. These are gifts, not chores.
The child is welcome to be part of this—playing, exploring, enjoying how the body feels lighter and freer over time.

Article IV: When We Slip
If old patterns emerge, neither side will shame the other.
The parent won’t scold. The child won’t hide.
We’ll take a breath and remember: this is hard, but we are learning.
We will return to connection. Always.

Article V: Daily Connection
Each day, we will try—even just for one minute—to check in.
The parent might ask: “How are you, little one?”
The child might whisper back: “I’m scared,” or “I’m lonely,” or “I’m okay.”
We will make space for that voice. Every time.

Signed with honesty and hope,
My Inner Child 🤍
My Inner Parent 🌿
Date: Whenever you’re ready to commit gently, not perfectly.

If you’ve ever wondered what “inner child work” really looks like in practice—this is it.
It’s not about being childish. It’s about remembering the part of you that still longs to be held, and learning how to hold him yourself.

Not to exile the cake-eater or silence the dreamer—but to finally bring them both home.