Sacred & Seen

When I was a child, my bed wasn’t just a place to sleep—it was a sanctuary. Piled high with stuffed animals, it felt alive with comfort and safety. Each one had a name, a personality, and a role in protecting me from the bigness of the world outside my bedroom door. They weren’t just toys; they were companions who understood the quiet fears and the unspoken dreams of a little girl trying to feel safe.

As I grew older, that part of me slowly got tucked away. Like many of us, I was told to “grow up,” to trade imagination for logic, and softness for strength. So, I boxed up my stuffed animals and, unknowingly, a piece of my innocence and comfort with them.

But healing has a funny way of circling back. Recently, I’ve been listening to that gentle inner voice—the one that whispers for softness, wonder, and play. And little by little, I’ve allowed myself to return to that part of me. I’ve started collecting again. A few owls here, a little group of animals there. On the surface, they’re just plush figures, but to me, they’re so much more.

Each one carries meaning. One reminds me of a gift from someone who truly saw me. Another sparks a memory of joy in a moment I thought I had forgotten. Together, they’ve become more than just decoration. They’ve become a small altar of comfort—an invitation for my inner child to pull up a chair at the table of my adult life.

And here’s what I’m learning: healing doesn’t always have to be grand or complicated. Sometimes, it’s found in the smallest, simplest gestures—the things that bring your heart ease and your body peace. Sometimes, healing is letting yourself embrace the things that once made you feel safe, and recognizing they still have power now.

For me, stuffed animals remind me that comfort, wonder, and play are not things we outgrow—they are things we carry, if we’re brave enough to give them space.

Maybe your healing doesn’t look like mine. Maybe for you, it’s listening to a song you loved as a child, baking the dessert your grandmother used to make, or pulling out crayons and coloring just because. Whatever it is, your inner child is still there, waiting for you to remember them.

So I’ll ask you:
✨ What’s one thing you loved as a kid that still makes you feel at home today?