From Broken to Whole: My Reparenting Story

For the longest time, I thought the void I felt was just part of who I was. I moved from one relationship to another, desperately searching for someone who could make me feel whole, someone who could fill that unexplainable emptiness inside me. I hated being alone. The quiet of an empty apartment felt suffocating, and the thought of sleeping in a bed by myself made my chest tighten.

Every anxious night, I would lie awake, replaying every little thing that went wrong in my life, wondering why I couldn’t seem to “get it together.” My parents had always told me that my problems weren’t as big as I made them out to be. When I started feeling anxious at sixteen, they brushed it off—“You’re overreacting,” they’d say. “Everyone gets nervous.” They meant well, I suppose, but their words taught me one thing: whatever I was feeling wasn’t worth anyone’s attention.

So, I buried it. I buried my fears, my loneliness, my anxiety—telling myself to toughen up. After all, I was told that’s what adults did. But no matter how hard I tried, that void kept growing. Every failed relationship, every sleepless night, every passing day spent pretending I was okay—it all added to this crushing weight that I didn’t know how to carry anymore.

And then it happened. Not all at once, but in small flashes—like striking lightning during a storm. Moments from my childhood would surface in ways I couldn’t ignore. The time I was told to stop crying and act my age. The nights I sat in my room, too afraid to ask for help because I didn’t want to be a burden. The way I learned to hide my emotions because I was scared of being told they didn’t matter.

I didn’t recognize it at the time, but those memories were showing me something I had refused to see. They weren’t just old, forgotten moments—they were the roots of the void I had spent years trying to fill.

It was only when I let myself sit with those feelings—really sit with them—that I realized what I needed wasn’t someone else to complete me. It wasn’t another person’s love. What I needed was me.

And so began the hardest and kindest thing I’ve ever done: How do I start reparenting myself quest.

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The Roots of the Void

The void wasn’t something I noticed right away. It lingered quietly, hiding behind the smiles I forced and the endless distractions I chased. It showed up in subtle ways—like the way I panicked when someone I cared about didn’t text back, or how I clung to relationships even when they hurt more than they healed. At the time, I didn’t realize these feelings were rooted in something much deeper.

Growing up, I was taught to hold it together. My parents believed in tough love. They encouraged me to push through my anxiety without dwelling on it. They thought toughness was the answer, but instead making me stronger, it left me feeling like I had to face everything alone.

So I learned to bury it all. I hid my anxiety, my fear, my sadness—convincing myself that if I ignored them long enough, they’d go away. As was confused as why they aren’t. Instead those feelings grew roots, shaping how I saw myself and how I connected with others.

As I got older, that void became harder to ignore. It was there when I avoided being alone because the silence felt unbearable. It was there in the crippling self-doubt that made me second-guess everything I said or did. And it was there in the sleepless nights, when my mind raced with worries I couldn’t name.

I didn’t know it then, but those feelings—the loneliness, the restlessness, the constant need for validation—were echoes of the little girl I used to be. A little girl who felt unseen, unheard, and desperate for someone to say, “Your feelings matter.”

At the time, I couldn’t connect those dots. I thought the problem was me—that I was broken, incapable of being loved, or just “too much.” But now I see it differently. That void wasn’t a sign of weakness. It was a sign that my inner child had been waiting for someone to notice her. Someone to show up.

I just never imagined that someone had to be me.

And so began the journey of how do I start reparenting myself.

Understanding the Objective Behind the Question: How Do I Start Reparenting Myself?

The first time I came up with the idea of reparenting myself, it felt strange. I had never thought of myself as someone who needed parenting. But as I started to acknowledge the topic, I realized it wasn’t about blaming someone or holding on to the past. Reparenting was about learning how to meet my own needs—those same needs I had ignored or buried for years.

So, how do I start reparenting myself? The answer to the question can be found in recognizing the patterns that hold you back. For years, my mind was flooded with self-doubt and replaying mistakes, especially at night. I would lie in bed, and my thoughts would spiral into what felt like neverending episodes of anxiety, panic attacks, or worrying about the future. I didn’t realize that this “racing mind” wasn’t just a habit—it was my way of coping with the unmet needs I carried from childhood.

Reparenting begins with small, deliberate acts of care. It’s the quiet promise to yourself that you’ll start listening to the parts of you that feel unheard. It’s sitting with the discomfort of nighttime anxiety instead of running from it. It’s asking, “What would I say to a child who felt this way?” and giving yourself that same compassion.

As I learned more about reparenting, I discovered that it’s not a one-size-fits-all process. For some, it might mean practicing self-compassion when their inner critic becomes too loud. For others, it’s about creating healthy boundaries in relationships or finding new ways to soothe a racing mind when trying to sleep.

What helped me the most was understanding that reparenting isn’t about fixing the past—it’s about healing in the present. It’s about quieting the self-doubt that keeps us stuck and giving ourselves the love and safety we’ve always deserved.

Reparenting yourself is one of the bravest things you can do. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it. Because when you take the first step, when you ask yourself, “How do I start reparenting myself?” you’re not just starting a process—you’re starting to come home to yourself.

How Do I Start Reparenting Myself: The Guide

Learn to Say “No”—Without Guilt

One of the hardest lessons I’ve ever learned was how to say “no.” It’s not just about setting boundaries; it’s about honoring your needs over the constant pressure to please others. For years, I said yes to everything—favors, projects, emotional labor—because deep down, I was terrified of being seen as unkind or unworthy.

Reparenting yourself means recognizing that your worth isn’t tied to how much you give. Start small. Say no to things that drain you, even if it feels uncomfortable. That discomfort is your inner child growing stronger, learning that it’s okay to prioritize yourself.

Have an Opinion and Stand By It

As a child, I often swallowed my opinions to avoid conflict. “Go along to get along,” they’d say. But that silence came at a cost—I stopped trusting my voice. Reparenting taught me to reclaim it.

Practice speaking your truth, even in minor situations. Choose the restaurant for dinner. Share your thoughts in a meeting. These acts may seem trivial, but they’re reminders to your inner child that your voice matters.

Make Peace with Your Parents—Through Yourself

I’ll be honest—this one surprised me. I used to think healing required sitting across from my parents and hashing out years of pain. But it didn’t. When I went through Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), I learned that forgiveness doesn’t always require their participation. It starts with understanding.

Reparenting yourself means letting go of the expectation that they’ll ever fully understand your pain. Instead, focus on giving yourself the compassion and validation they couldn’t provide. Therapy, journaling, or guided meditations can help you find closure within yourself.

Walk Away from Toxicity Without Explaining Yourself

For years, I felt the need to explain my choices—to justify my boundaries and defend why I couldn’t tolerate certain behaviors. But here’s the truth: you don’t owe anyone an explanation for protecting your peace.

If your parents—or anyone in your life—continue to manipulate or dismiss you, reparenting means giving yourself permission to walk away. It’s not your job to convince someone of your worth. Sometimes, the kindest thing you can do for your inner child is to stop engaging in battles you were never meant to win.

Learn to make decisions

As someone who always second-guessed her decisions, taking such a step used to stall me, I’d overthink every choice, assured I’d make the wrong one. But reparenting taught me something liberating – there’s no such thing as the perfect decision.

Start by making small choices: what to wear, what to eat, how to spend your weekend. Celebrate those moments. Over time, you’ll build confidence in your ability to lead your life—and that’s a gift to your inner child who always doubted her instincts.

Speak to Your Inner Child—Out Loud

This might feel odd at first, but it’s one of the most powerful tools I’ve found. Find a quiet moment and speak to the younger version of yourself. Imagine them sitting beside you. Say the words you needed to hear back then: “I see you. I’m here for you. You’re safe now.”

It may bring tears, but that’s okay. Reparenting is about breaking the silence that made you feel small.

Reclaim Comfort on Your Terms

What brought you comfort as a child? Was it a favorite blanket, a lullaby, or rocking back and forth? Bring those rituals back. For me, it was humming softly to myself before bed. It might sound silly, but it made me feel safe—like someone was watching over me.

Find what soothes your inner child and lean into it unapologetically. Comfort is not childish; it’s healing.

Create a Safe Space—Physically and Mentally

Sometimes, reparenting means creating the home you wished you had. Whether it’s a corner of your bedroom with soft lighting or a set of affirmations you repeat daily, make your space feel safe.

Mentally, it means challenging the harsh inner voice that tells you “you can’t” or “you’re not enough.” Replace it with gentler words: “You’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough.”

Rediscover Playfulness

When was the last time you did something just for fun? Reparenting isn’t all serious work—it’s also about finding joy. Dance around your living room, color in a book, or jump in puddles when it rains. Play is a way to remind yourself that life isn’t just about surviving—it’s about living.

Write a Letter to Your Younger Self

Take the pen in your hand and speak to the person you used to be. Accept their doubts, fears and congratulate them on their courage. Let them know they were never to be blamed for their emotions. This approach might feel cathartic, providing your inner child the love and validation they’ve always needed.

A Journey Worth Taking

For so long, I chased love, validation, and security from the world around me, never realizing that what I truly needed was already within. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done—to sit in the stillness and hear the voice I had buried for so many years. A voice whispering, “Please don’t forget me.” The reason behind the quest How do I start reparenting myself?

Reparenting isn’t a grand, sweeping act. It’s the quiet decision to choose yourself every single day. It’s holding space for the pain you’ve avoided, giving yourself permission to feel it, and then offering the comfort you always longed for. It’s not glamorous. It’s not easy. But it’s yours.

And maybe that’s the point. Healing doesn’t come from perfect solutions or overnight fixes. It comes from showing up in the mess, in the discomfort, and saying, “I’m here.” It’s in forgiving yourself for all the times you didn’t know how to be what you needed, and in choosing—today, tomorrow, and every day after—to start again.

This isn’t just reparenting. It’s remembering and reclaiming. And it’s the most profound gift you’ll ever give to yourself.

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Learn one of the main consequences of unresolved childhood wounds and how nighttime anxiety reveals what your inner child needs most here. Check our article about how to let go of expectations.

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