I recently reflected on how I sometimes create my own drama, asking myself, “What part of me generates this conflict, and why?” I’m fascinated by personality traits, especially when I surprise myself with my own actions. While I’m sure a psychologist could explain these traits in clinical terms, I’m not a doctor, so I won’t play one on the internet. Instead, I’ve been exploring the deeper space within me where these traits originate. I know they’re a part of me—but what part? Who are you in there, and how can I nurture us so that we don’t resort to creating drama or conflict unnecessarily?
I know I’m a bit of an odd duck, and I recognize that some may see my beliefs and ideals as utopian. I’m perfectly okay with that, because I truly believe in the goodness of humanity. I also believe that I carry the spark of life—of God—within me, just as you do. With this belief comes an understanding that I can create my own magic by manifesting a beautiful life—or, admittedly, by generating unnecessary drama. For the most part, I feel the quality of my life is within my control. I get to choose how I face each day through my attitude, actions, and reactions. I also believe that the people around us—our friends and family—hold up mirrors, allowing us to see ourselves through the circumstances life presents. These reflections are here to teach us and help us grow.
Last week, my adventure sister, Stacy Crep, and I were planning our Boundary Waters trip for this summer. We discussed our intentions for the trip and what we both hoped to gain from this deep wilderness experience. Typically, it’s just the two of us. We wander the forest as though we’re Queens in a wall-less castle, under the canopy of trees. For me, the forest feels as comforting and healing as home.
This year, we considered how meaningful it might be to share this spiritual experience with others we love. We decided to invite a couple of friends to join us. Initially, I hesitated. Deep down, I felt a little selfish. I wanted to preserve this experience as it’s always been—just the two of us. I’m someone who values close, intimate relationships far more than large groups or casual conversations about work or the weather. I’m a deep thinker, always pondering the mysteries of life, as is my soul sister, Stacy. We have a soulful connection that I cherish deeply, and I wasn’t ready to share that sacred space with others just yet.
I labeled my feelings as selfish, but upon reflection, I don’t believe they stem from selfishness at all. Instead, I think they arise from the vulnerable part of me—the inner child—who isn’t quite ready to share this time with Stacy yet. That inner voice quietly whispered, “Not yet. This time is still ours.”
About a week after Stacy and I agreed to bring others to the Boundary Waters, I found myself struggling to sleep. I lay awake, pondering the shift in my emotions about a trip that I’m usually excited for. Instead, I felt uneasy. I knew I had to honor these feelings and share them with Stacy; otherwise, I risked acting out in ways that might create unnecessary drama.
Thankfully, Stacy and I have built a friendship grounded in mutual respect. I value her deeply because we can be fully honest with each other. She understands that how I feel is just as important as how she feels. When I shared my thoughts about including others on this sacred adventure, I unintentionally triggered a reaction in Stacy. She, too, felt the pull to create conflict but chose instead to step back and see the situation for what it was: two women communicating their feelings honestly.
In our conversation, Stacy admitted that the little girl inside of her wanted to stomp her foot and say, “Fine. I’m not going then.” Her honesty struck me because I understood completely—that’s exactly what the vulnerable little girl inside of me wanted to say, too! There we were, two grown women, candidly acknowledging our vulnerabilities. That level of honesty opened the door to a deeper dialogue about honoring our true feelings. In the end, we worked together to find a compromise that felt right for both of us. The experience was liberating, and it brought us even closer.
This exchange helped me realize that I don’t always react in the most mature way. But in that realization, I’ve learned to dig deeper into my own soul. Being honest with myself about who I am on the inside allows me to validate my needs—not just project the version of myself I want others to see. When I am honest with my true self, I find it easier to approach all my relationships with authenticity and respect—not only for their needs but for my own as well. If I ignore or suppress my feelings, I tend to act out in ways that aren’t aligned with my best self.
Is this true for you, too? Do you have a part of you that screams to be heard? How does that part express itself—does it ask for help, or does it yearn for validation?
I’d love to start a conversation about this delicate subject. Do you honor the vulnerable inner child within you? Or does recognizing weakness make your ego step in and send those hurt feelings to the shadows, where they fester until they explode? Is it your inner child, or is it your ego—or perhaps even your inner child’s ego? What is that voice trying to say?
I believe it’s essential to look within ourselves for the answers we seek. I trust that we are wise beings, even when we don’t always act that way. I believe there’s a part of God within each of us—a Spirit or Soul that holds deep intuition and grace. When we’re quiet enough to listen, aware enough to ask, and willing to grow, we can tap into that wisdom. The choice to nurture it or neglect it is ultimately up to us.
Namaste
Emy Minzel
Emy Minzel 