Unlocking core desires (not just core memories)

How your inner child holds the key

The first time I held my breath and slipped under the water, I felt it. A quiet, invisible hug. The world above disappeared, and for the first time, I was safe, free, and fully me. That feeling followed me into dance classes, stories I wrote on folded-up up sheets of A4 printer paper, and the sparkle of Disney’s Main Street Electrical Light Parade on magical family holidays. Each childhood love was a breadcrumb leading me back to the desires I still carry today: joy, freedom, creativity, and connection.

Ruby, the voice of my inner child in my first book, Stuck Between Two Worlds describes swimming like this:

“I love disappearing into the blurry depths. It’s a peacefulness that surrounds me, like I’m hiding from the world and nobody will think to look there. It’s almost like an invisible hug.”

— Stuck Between Two Worlds by Lisa Parkes

Swimming wasn’t just escape, it was soothing. The water held Ruby (and me), helped regulate a nervous system often stuck in survival mode, and gave a sense of safety when childhood felt unpredictable. Dancing did the same. The rhythm, music, and movement kept me grounded, in touch with my body, and allowed me to release tension and worry.

Folding worlds in paper

I also disappeared into books and other worlds. I would write my own stories, folding A4 paper in half, drawing pictures, and scribbling words. I loved having a pen in my hand—it felt like magic. Creativity wasn’t just fun; it was another lifeline, a way to fold chaos into something I could explore and control.

In Stuck Between Two Worlds Ruby goes on an adventure unprepared, expecting rules and structure, only to discover she can let go and enjoy life. She swims with beluga whales:

“Beluga whales stand for the freedom of creativity…It’s a relaxed state of being, when ideas and projects come to you without much effort at all.”

— Stuck Between Two Worlds by Lisa Parkes

The whales symbolise the part of ourselves that wants to play, create, and let ideas flow freely. In that moment, Ruby learns she doesn’t need to plan every step, check every detail, or anticipate every danger—she can trust herself and the world enough to experience joy.

Childhood survival instincts were never far away. Ruby reflects:

“When I can’t concentrate, I bite my nails until they bleed… I double check everything and like to plan ahead. Just in case something bad happens. It hasn’t happened yet, but I need to be ready when it does. It’s my job to look out for the bad things.”

— Stuck Between Two Worlds by Lisa Parkes

Swimming, dancing, and writing weren’t just hobbies. They were ways to soothe, regulate, and stay connected to joy. My inner child was intuitively and instinctively finding ways to feel safe, free, and alive, even when the world felt unpredictable.

Dancing through life

Holidays to Disney were another doorway into that world. I remember standing in the dark, watching princesses and chorus girls glide along the floats in the electrical light parade. The shimmer, the music, the movement—it made me ache to dance with them. I’d been learning ballet, tap, and modern since age four.

“I’ve been learning to dance since I was four…When I’m on stage, I feel like people are paying attention. Showtime feels powerful and the music makes it ‘more so.’ I still haven’t figured out how to overcome those pesky nerves. I don’t think they are meant to go away completely because they keep you focused on doing your very best.”

— Stuck Between Two Worlds by Lisa Parkes

Core desires revealed

All of these childhood loves—swimming, dancing, writing, watching the Disney parade point to core desires and natural talents:

• Freedom to move and express yourself

• Connection and play with creatures or worlds beyond the everyday

• Creating stories, shaping worlds, and being heard

Adult life can dull these desires

Fear, judgment, practical worries, or family patterns can block them. I felt too old to dance or too impractical to train dolphins—but the spark never left. It lives in writing, teaching, and small rituals of movement, play, and imagination I allow myself.

Now, as an inclusion mentor at college, I see how important it is for students—especially teens under the pressure of study and life to reconnect with these parts of themselves. Encouraging them to play, move, write, or explore imagination is not just fun, it helps regulate stress, ground the body, and reconnect with joy. I want this generation to know that their inner child isn’t a distraction or a whim; it’s a source of creativity, resilience, and clarity.

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✍️ Try this for yourself:

1. List your childhood loves – What did you dream about? What made your heart buzz?

2. Identify the hidden desires – Did these dreams reveal a need for freedom, creativity, connection, joy, or safety?

3. Notice the blocks – Are fear, judgment, or old patterns holding you back? What beliefs keep you from expressing your core desires today?

4. Reconnect physically and creatively – Dance, swim in your imagination, write a short story, draw, or play. Let your body and mind remember what it feels like to be free.

5. Journal reflection – Write to your inner child: “I see you. I see what you need to feel safe, free, and joyful. I’m here to make space for you.”

Core desires in my 51-year-old life

At 51, those childhood desires haven’t disappeared. They’ve simply evolved. Freedom to move and express myself now comes through movement at home, yoga, or journaling, rather than a stage or pool. Connection and play show up in mentoring students, building community, or immersing myself in creative projects. Writing is still my magic and it’s how I fold the chaos of life into stories that honour both my inner child and adult self.

Moments of wonder, like watching the sunrise, listening to music, or diving into imagination, they keep joy alive. And creating safe spaces for my nervous system, through mindfulness, journaling, or conscious routines, reminds me that emotional regulation and self-care are lifelong practices.

These desires are not just nostalgic, they are living, breathing parts of who I am. At 51, I still dive, dance, write, and play. I still let my imagination run free. And I guide others—students and my coaching clients to do the same, so they can reconnect with the parts of themselves that bring joy, creativity, and resilience.

The child inside you isn’t gone. She’s still waiting to swim, dance, write, and create her magic. Honoring her isn’t just nostalgia, it’s a path back to your most alive, expressive, and authentic self.

👉🏻 Book an inner child healing session today!

Love

PS. If any of this love letter spoke to you, tap the little heart up top or down below. It helps other lost sensitives find their way back to themselves. The more people who know I’m here, the easier it is for the right ones to find me. Thank you!

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