N8tivegirl

Healing the Inner Child — Part 4

Reclaiming Joy Without Apology

There comes a moment in healing when grief loosens its grip just enough to make room for something else.

Joy.

Not the loud kind.

Not the performative kind.

But the quiet, sacred joy that lives in small moments.

I think about rain puddles.

Bare feet splashing water everywhere.

Dancing in the rain without worrying about the mess.

I think about baking with my children—flour on the counter, laughter in the kitchen, memories forming without anyone realizing how permanent they would become.

And in those moments, something unexpected happened.

I wasn’t just mothering my children.

I was touching parts of myself.

I was remembering what it felt like to be carefree.

To be present.

To feel safe enough to play.

Somewhere along the way, we forget that joy is not frivolous—it is healing.

That play is not childish—it is restorative.

That laughter is not a distraction from pain—it is often the doorway through it.

For many of us, joy became conditional.

Something to earn.

Something to delay until everything else was handled.

But children don’t live that way.

They dance in the rain because it’s raining.

They laugh because something is funny.

They create memories without knowing they’re doing something sacred.

And when we allow ourselves to join them—even briefly—we reclaim a part of ourselves that trauma tried to steal.

Joy does not erase what hurt us.

It does not deny what was missing.

It simply says:

I am allowed to feel good too.

Sometimes healing looks like therapy.

Sometimes it looks like tears.

And sometimes—unexpectedly—it looks like laughter echoing through a kitchen, or wet clothes from dancing in the rain.

That joy counts.

Those moments matter.

And the version of you who needed that joy is still alive.

Gentle Reflection

When was the last time you allowed yourself to experience joy without explaining it, earning it, or apologizing for it?

Benediction

May joy find you again—not as a reward, but as a reminder of who you’ve always been.