When Sara experienced rejection in the workplace over a writing piece she had high hopes of gaining accolades for, she cried. Her desire to please authority and receive validation for her work was an everlasting feat — coupled with a fear of criticism and a tendency to avoid conflict that extended into various areas of her career.
“Every rejection felt like a stab to the heart. My emotional outbursts became more and more common. At 26, I knew I needed therapy.”
When Sara’s therapist asked her to acknowledge her inner child, she pictured a little girl playing in the grass outside. The vision of carefree years, free-roaming creativity, and the joys of childhood sparked deep, visceral emotion. Her therapist made a point: “It always does that.”
“Had I heard about inner-child work before? Yes. Did I think that inner-child trauma could be the root cause of all my problems? Not even close.”
The term “inner child” took on a whole new level of popularity on social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok in 2024, with an emphasis on “healing” the inner child through more nuanced mechanisms like childlike hobbies, arts and crafts, writing letters to the younger self, or, in today’s case — magic mushrooms.
“There she was, right in front of me. Not a physical being, but an entity I knew to be my child self. Twiddling her fingers in anxiousness, seeking validation from my now-26 year old corporate self.” Sara says about her mushroom experience.
Psilocybin, otherwise known as magic mushrooms, has seen a worldwide resurgence in recent years — less as a zip-lock-bound party favor and more as a mental health phenomenon that has repeatedly shown transformative outcomes, from ameliorating anxiety and distress in end-of-life cancer patients to managing PTSD in war veterans. Moreover, using the psychedelic compound to comfort the inner child is less far-fetched than one might assume.
If you know anything about psychedelics, or better yet, have felt them firsthand, you’ll know that emotional breakthroughs are a key aspect of the whole experience. While inner-child work and psychedelic substances might seem like an unorthodox pair, psilocybin’s unique effect on the brain’s Default Mode Network (DMN) helps make sense of the idea.
Simply put, the Default Mode Network (DMN) is the part of the brain that’s active when you’re not focused on the outside world, like when daydreaming or thinking about yourself. Fascinatingly, psilocybin has the ability to access this part of the brain, which, as a result, has led researchers to believe that inner-child-based therapy could benefit from psilocybin as a tool.
It makes sense, really. Think about it: if the DMN is where many of your habits, instincts, and unconscious beliefs—many of which are rooted in childhood—are stored, psilocybin could be seen as a key to reopening the door to the place where much of your thought processes as a child were formed.
“You could say I was a meltdown child. I was often punished for my own hyper-sensitivity, sent into time-out and whatnot. I see this now as a root cause for my prior stonewalling, validation-seeking tendencies.”
Fresh off a handful of mushrooms, as Sara’s child self knelt in front of her, crying with open arms, she held herself — showing grace to the child’s emotions and offering them a safe place to exude. “She needed that. I needed that.”
Psilocybin quiets and disrupts DMN activity, giving it a particular therapeutic effect that often allows suppressed emotions and childhood traumas to surface and be processed. Hence why psilocybin has shown success in treating areas of PTSD and treatment-resistant depression.
In many areas of life, such as careers, relationships, and life experiences, the ego likes to act as a protective shield. It is built to navigate adult life by rationalizing emotions, suppressing vulnerabilities, and maintaining a sense of control, which can pose a challenge when it comes to inner-child acknowledgment on a therapeutic level. In a reduced DMN state, psilocybin can help bypass these common ego barriers, encouraging compassion, curiosity, and healing for the parts of ourselves shaped by childhood experiences.
“I came out of the trip feeling both euphoric, and melancholic. I felt regretful for all the times I dismissed my inner-child’s needs, but I felt joyful that I was able to feel her, and validate her.”
Sara continued her therapy sessions, keeping the lessons from her psychedelic experience in her pocket. As a way to maintain mental fluidity throughout her inner-child-centric healing journey, she started microdosing.
“I’d started going down the rabbit-hole of podcasts, trying to learn more about applying inner-child work into day-to-day life. One podcast that resonated with me was a woman discussing her microdosing journey, and how it helped her become a better parent by allowing her to become more childlike in a sense. I thought I’d give it a go and see.”
Unlike trip-sized doses of psilocybin, microdosing is thought to offer the benefits of psilocybin in a more subtle and manageable way. While research regarding microdosing and its effects on DMN activity is growing, studies show that microdosers report improved emotional well-being, better mood, reduced stress, and heightened cognition both during and post-dose days.
“In my first few times microdosing, it was almost like an emotional purge of sorts. I cried lots, and allowed myself to do so. I felt little to no shame in my output of emotions which was uncommon for me. That was the first sign that perhaps it was something I needed.”
It’s no secret that in today’s hustle-and-bustle society, riddled with mixed emotions, opinions, and unpredictability, openness and well-being are subject to suffering. As more people embrace inner-child work through therapy, creative expression, journaling, and mindfulness, microdosing has gained attention as a tool for rebuilding the empathy and openness that is lacking.
“Now that I’ve been microdosing for just shy of 2 years now, there’s no question that it has improved my life. I still attend therapy and I still have my moments, but through microdosing and more intentionality, my inner-child is an ever-present aspect of my life that I now care for on a consistent basis.”
The baby might be crying, but she is being attended to — being heard. Sara’s journey, and that of millions of others, is a reminder that healing our inner child isn’t about erasing the past necessarily, but learning to embrace and overhear it with compassion.
Whether through therapy, creative expression, microdosing, or all combined, the tools we choose to reconnect with our younger selves can open doors to profound healing and self-discovery.
“My most-recent dose day, I allowed myself to feel the shift from it. I imagined walking into my childhood bedroom and telling my younger self all the things she would have loved to hear but never did. Moments like these, I feel, change everything.”
