People don’t enter your life or family without reason. Every encounter holds something meaningful to reflect on. Throughout my life, I’ve connected with many people—some who had a profound impact, while others remained in the background, offering smaller lessons. In recent years, I’ve been confronting my inner child—a journey that has been both emotionally overwhelming and transformative. When I try to share this with even my closest friends, they don’t fully understand, and that’s okay. I’ve learned not to expect others to grasp the depth of my inner world, just as I can’t fully comprehend theirs. As an empath, I can sense things deeply, but I know that everyone’s healing journey is personal.

Currently, I’m closely involved with a family with two children, and in many ways, I’ve grown up alongside them. My connection to their daughter is something I never anticipated. I felt a strong urge to protect her, especially when I saw her consuming unhealthy, sugary foods and receiving mixed messages from her parents—asking her to do one thing while they acted differently. I recognized this confusion, as it echoed my own childhood experiences. Without asking, I took on the responsibility of caring for her well-being because I felt that if I did nothing, I would be complicit in this cycle. It wasn’t easy—this journey was filled with sleepless nights, sadness, and worry.

I questioned why I was so drawn to helping her, while I wasn’t as focused on her younger brother, who is sweet and easy to love. After many prayers and countless hours of reflection, I realized the reason: this little girl reminded me of my own inner child—the one I felt wasn’t protected, who lived without guidance or direction. My own struggles growing up made adulthood difficult for me. And so, saving her felt like saving a part of myself.

Unconsciously, I became obsessed with protecting her, ensuring that she wouldn’t have to endure a long, painful journey to find herself. I wanted her to grow into adulthood healthy—physically, mentally, and emotionally—so she could pursue her dreams with confidence, free from the fears, trauma, and self-doubt I once carried.

Today, she is seven, and I find myself in a much better place. Through her, I’ve been able to heal my own childhood wounds. Despite the challenges—her parents still consumed by electronic devices and the habit of going out a few nights a week—I’ve found peace within myself. You can imagine what happens with the kids in the morning, grabbing sugary, nutrient-deficient cereal and a tablet that diminishes their energetic field, leading to long-term health issues. Even so, it still hurts to see children affected by their home environment, relying solely on their parents to create a nurturing space. When parents don’t understand the complexities of child development, the consequences can last a lifetime, leading to mental and emotional difficulties that persist into adulthood.

The message I want to share is this: we all carry some form of childhood trauma—whether from home, school, an unexpected illness, or a hurtful message that lingers for years. Everyone who enters your life—whether they fill you with love, frustration, or discomfort—comes for a reason. When you feel a deep connection or intense emotion, such as anger, toward someone, it’s time to pause and reflect. You will likely encounter the same types of people repeatedly until you address the underlying issue and resolve the trauma causing your distress. Sometimes, this can manifest as dis-ease, offering a chance to explore your inner self. If you can’t find those answers on your own, seek guidance—whether through a spiritual advisor, healing sessions like Reiki or sound baths, meditation, or visualization. If you want to restore balance to your body, mind, and soul, do whatever it takes to resolve your inner wounds, so you don’t carry your mental trauma into your physical well-being or project it into your environment.

I conclude with Namaste—peace and love. The journey to healing begins by looking within.