Letter To My Inner Child
Dear Atashee, my beloved inner child,
I see you and love you to the moon. I have no illusions that I ever would have made it through life without you. You are such a brave little one. I’m here because you survived childhood. Without your ability to get us through, I could never know the beautiful life I have today.
I see your little hand in the sweltering Tehran summer heat, trying to pull yourself over the bars of your playpen, trying to untie the bonds our grandmother fastened to your feet so you would stay put while she was out buying groceries. I see your resilience and imagination. Everything I am now is because of you.
I used to think that protecting you meant hiding you from the world. If you wanted to play or laugh or cry, I made sure no one could see you. I didn’t understand that the secret to happiness is to let you be free and seen, to let you live and shine.
I want you to feel free to stay out whenever you want. When I look in the mirror, you can be the image the glass reflects. When I go on vacation, you can choose the destinations and activities and all the outfits we wear. You can dance as hard as you want to in the public square in Plaza Mayor, the Zocalo, or Times Square. Your feeling free is more important to me than anyone else’s opinion.
Even though you’re little, I know you’re the wisest part of me, because you’re the part that never forgets why we’re here: to have fun. You are a master of seizing the moment, snatching every second of joy in the midst of chaos. When you show up, you bring with you sparks, excitement, and enthusiasm, even during our lowest lows. No one can wear you down. You are my superpower.
Taking care of you is taking care of me.
I love watching you being you: inspiring others to free their own inner children. Your contribution to my life and everyone I know is priceless. I’m grateful, and in return I will live to celebrate you in the books I write and the lessons I try to pass on to the next generation. And even though I never had the privilege of being a biological mother, knowing that I can take care of you — to love and be loved by you — has given my life more purpose than I ever could have dreamed of.
So keep on dancing, and keep telling me what you need. I won’t make a face or turn away. I will help you over the bars, every time.
