When the Child Within Still Waits

When parental love is missing, some children become their own guardians. They learn to soothe themselves in silence, to navigate loneliness like a second language, to find ways to exist without the warmth they should have known. They adapt because they have to. But what happens when that child grows up and enters a relationship? What happens when they find themselves standing before love, no longer just longing for it but actually receiving it? Do they embrace it? Or do they, without realising it, sabotage it?  

The past does not stay in the past. It lives beneath the surface, shaping the way we connect, the way we trust, the way we let ourselves be loved. When I heal people from heartbreak, I see it—how the echoes of childhood pain disguise themselves as patterns in their relationships. Some cannot trust love when it arrives, pushing it away before it has the chance to leave. Others chase it relentlessly, believing that if they give enough, sacrifice enough, they might finally be chosen. But love given out of desperation is never truly received—it only deepens the wound.  

Have you ever caught yourself doubting love even when there was no reason to? Have you ever felt uneasy in moments of closeness, as though comfort itself was a trick? That is not the voice of the present—it is the past, whispering its old fears into new moments.  

When Love Feels Like a Test  

During a healing session, a woman told me she had finally found someone who treated her well, yet she felt distant, uncomfortable, unsure why she could not fully receive it. “It’s like I’m waiting for them to prove something,” she said. “Like I’m testing if they’ll leave.”  

That moment hit me—the love she had been waiting for was right in front of her, and yet she was still waiting. Why? Because the child within her was still unconvinced. She did not just want love; she wanted evidence that this time, it was safe. That this time, it would not vanish like it did before.  

I once healed someone who had a pattern of leaving relationships first, always before things got serious. “It’s easier to walk away than to be abandoned,” they admitted. That is the lesson an unloved child carries into adulthood: Control the loss before it controls you. But love does not work that way. Love is not won through strategy. Love is not a test someone has to pass.  

Have you ever felt like pulling away from someone who treated you well? Have you ever created problems just to see if someone would stay? That is not self-sabotage—it is self-protection. But protection from what? Love? Or the memory of love that was once denied?  

And here’s where it gets even more unsettling—some people unconsciously seek out relationships that will hurt them. Not because they want pain, but because pain is familiar. A parent who was emotionally unavailable or unpredictable sets the stage for a nervous system that expects inconsistency. Love that is stable, patient, and kind? That feels strange, almost suspicious. But someone who mirrors that old instability? That feels like home.  

That’s why so many people confuse chemistry with chaos. They mistake emotional turbulence for passion, mistaking anxiety for excitement. Because deep down, their body is wired to believe that love and longing must coexist. That love, real love, must come with struggle.  

The Ghost of the Absent Parent  

It is not just fear of loss that lingers. It is the deep, unsettling feeling that something is missing. I see energy patterns in people who grew up without love—they move through relationships like they are searching for something invisible, something they cannot name. They want love, but more than that, they want someone to complete a story that was left unfinished in childhood.  

But no partner, no matter how devoted, can rewrite the past. The love that was absent then cannot be replaced by the love found now. And yet, so many try. They look for partners who remind them of their parents, unconsciously hoping for a different ending. They seek closure in places where closure does not exist.  

And then comes the real mind-shift—the moment they realise they have been waiting for a parent in the form of a partner. Not a lover, but a rescuer. Not an equal, but someone to fill the gaps of the past. And when their partner cannot do that—because no one can—they feel the same childhood disappointment, only now, they call it heartbreak.  

Have you ever wondered why you are drawn to the same type of person over and over again? Have you ever felt a familiar ache in relationships, as if you are reliving something instead of experiencing something new? The child within still waits—not just for love, but for a version of love that does not exist.  

When the Waiting Ends  

There comes a moment when the waiting child within us can wait no longer. Not because someone finally arrives to fill the space, but because we realise no one ever could. When I heal people, I watch as they come to this moment—the moment they stop looking for someone to rescue them and begin to rescue themselves.

I once healed a man who had spent years seeking validation from relationships. “If they love me, I matter,” he had told himself. But then came the shift—the moment he realised that no amount of external love could heal the absence of internal love. That no matter how much someone loved him, if he did not believe he was worthy of it, he would never fully receive it.  

That realisation? That is the moment everything changes. That is the moment healing actually begins.  

Because healing is not about waiting for the right love to arrive. It is about learning to exist as though you already know you are loved. Not proving, not chasing, not testing—just knowing.

It is not an easy process. The waiting child within will resist, will try to pull you back into old wounds, will whisper that you are only safe in what is familiar. But the real safety, the real love, is in breaking the cycle.  

So ask yourself—What would change if you stopped testing love and started trusting it? What would happen if you let yourself be seen, without the fear of being left? What would it feel like to stop waiting?  

Because at some point, the waiting must end. And when it does, love no longer feels like a test to pass. It simply is.

Disclaimer:

I am an energy healer and spiritual guide with more than 12 years of experience and practice. Through my vision and ability to understand live energy patterns, I have developed a unique process to guide and heal people, helping them uncover the root cause of their suffering.  

While I work closely with individuals experiencing various medical conditions, I am not a certified medical professional. My healing is not intended to replace any medical treatment or diagnosis but to support and accelerate the recovery process.  

It is important to consult a qualified healthcare provider for any medical concerns. My guidance focuses on energy balance, emotional well-being, and spiritual growth, complementing conventional medical approaches for overall healing.

This blog is a small glimpse into my upcoming book, Moksha Diaries—a journey through healing, surrender, and the unseen forces that shape our lives. Each page is a step toward liberation, revealing that freedom was never outside us, but waiting to be remembered.