Dear Yoyo,
Updated: Aug 21, 2020

As part of my healing journey over the last decade I have had the privilege of exploring and healing my relationship with my inner children. I had a beautiful, rich and memorable childhood. I was surrounded by fun, creativity and a deep, deep love that I will never take for granted. I have vivid memories of 90% of my childhood between the ages of three and eighteen. My experiences as a kid were filled with an unsullied joy that I hope to mimic for my kids in the years to come. If I had to sum up what I learned growing up in the Agir household, it would have been in the essence of resiliency and family.
But everyone at some point meet stress and trauma as a microcosm of their human experience. As I get older, I have been untangling beliefs that do not belong to me and shedding the pain that caused behaviours that I would not choose for myself now. As I evolve as a woman, a healer, a light warrior and eventually a mother, I am learning to heal from the bottom up so that the people in my life can experience the truest, most joyful and exuberant form of me.
May 2020, after months of old behaviors creeping in from the stress of COVID-19, nursing and a gradual loss of interest for my life I started working with Hungry for Happiness and doing the Food Freedom Journey to combat my disordered eating and body shame. I mean, I have been a self-help junkie for over a decade...who knew that three months later I would be starting the process of not only healing and learning to take care of myself on a more profound level but also taking the baby steps to be able to teach this work (more on that on a later date).
In this third month, we are exploring our inner child. I thought I'd crush this unit. I have been doing this for years and doing it well but to deeply explore wounds that I always knew were there and actually sit with it is a raw, ugly but enlightening and interesting experience. I have been putting it off all month but we were challenged to write a letter to a younger version of yourself that you completely abandoned and one to your adult, evolved self from that child. It has taken me two days to write, simply afraid to put to words what I have to say and even more afraid of what I need to hear. I highly recommend trying it. What a gift it is to be able to connect with all the ways we have abandoned our sense of fun, wonder and vulnerability and all the ways we can take that back for ourselves. It's uncomfortable and makes you feel everything, but you are safe to feel every gritty bit of it.
Dear Yoyo,
You have always been a precious, spirited, beautiful part of me. You keep me young; your adventurous little spirit, your super kind heart have never wavered and have reminded me every single day to never be jaded to the magic of this world. Your unsullied joy, your softness, your sweet light have got me through the darkest days.You have reminded me, every single day to feel every gnarly thing and remember that there is always a rainbow, a shooting star. That the sun and the moon always rise and that every morning is a new opportunity to be happy. I am immensely grateful for the lightness you have brought me.

At some point during this journey together however, I lost sight of our relationship. Sometimes it was only for an instant; a moment in time where I had a lapse in judgement or was pushed to do or be someone that you did not feel was safe. Other times, several times, these lapses turned into a whole different affair and an expression of the full abandonment of us. I can remember one instance in particular. You were 7, maybe 8. Your openness, your trust and vulnerability were taken advantage of. You didn’t know what was happening, you weren’t physically hurt, you just didn’t know. But somehow, because of other people’s fear, you were punished. For something someone else did to you. I was afraid too. I bailed on you which was the worst thing I could have possibly done in that moment. You were so little. It was in this moment of abandonment that bred a deep unworthiness. I now see in that moment that the voice you were working so hard to build and foster receded back into you. Your body became a cesspool of shame; a vessel to harbor hurt feelings and food. Your human experience was forever belittled and suppressed. You became the supporting actress to your own life story.
I saw your pain and the way you worked so hard to make sure that your loved ones never felt the pain you experienced deep inside your temple. For this and more, I am so sorry. You needed me and because of my own fear, I left. What a dick move. But as I hold you now, feel you quivering and wipe the snot off your face, I am elated to be a part of your life again. I missed your compassion, your spirit and the knack you had for making life look so easy. I learned that from watching you. While you never have to experience pain by yourself ever again, I am so impressed by your resiliency. I promise to let you feel what you need to feel, I will hold space for you and encourage you to speak your truth and inquiries. I vow now to always protect what you have learned, I will protect your spirit and I will be fiercely protective of your heart.
Love always and forever,
Iola
Dear Iola,
I know this was really hard for you to write and I appreciate your processing our pain. I was mad at you for so long but you know right well I love too hard. I forgive you for leaving. You needed to experience the world in a new way to be able to decipher what you want and need in this world. And guess what? You will continue to do just that...just this time, come home more often to tell me about it. You have become more resilient than you realize since that moment of hurt we experienced so long ago. Sure, it sparked years of deep-rooted pain and behaviours you will likely not choose now but don’t regret it. You have become a fierce woman, full of sass and gumption. You are learning to own your body and you aren’t letting anyone sully your experience. You’re so strong and capable. You have the ability to create whatever it is you desire. Keep moving, keep adventuring and keep working on that big voice that we both so desperately need.

Do you remember what we loved to do together? We loved to create. We loved writing and drawing. Singing and dancing in the shower and on the bed. We built a pillow fort by the windowsill and at night dreamt of love and laughter we would experience with Prince Charming. We cried about everything: about how wonderful our life is and the pain we hadn't experienced but knew we would. We dreamt of everything our life could be. Please, let's do that again. Let’s play and dream. Because our possibilities are endless; our potential untapped and limitless.
Home is safety and protection. It’s the sentiment of being loved unconditionally without expectations. I and all the other versions of you are your home. When the world out there tries to convince you you don’t belong, we will remind you that you do. All I ask is that you come home every once in a while. Don’t leave for so long. I need the comfort, protection and the space you’re talking about. I need you to play with me, laugh with me and dream with me. Let’s leave the house together sometimes.
Yoyo
