Listening to Your Inner Mother

Cultivating a relationship with your inner mother is a practice of both self-devotion and self-compassion. 

Your inner mother keeps you accountable. 

Your inner mother keeps your inner critic in check by lovingly reminding you that you are human and will make mistakes and have rough patches in life. 

Your inner mother helps you pick yourself back up. 

Your inner mother guides you, helping you navigate the seasons of womanhood with grace and passion.

Listening to your inner mother encourages you to listen to the feminine, intuitive, heart-filled parts of you. 

Your inner mother helps you manage your energy levels with gentle nudges to prevent burnout. Your inner mother gently reminds you to pace yourself when big changes arise. She fiercely advocates for you to protect yourself and set proper boundaries for your benefit. 

More profoundly, listening to your inner mother can heal your perception of motherhood and your relationship with your biological mother/maternal figures. 

What is your "inner mother"? What does she sound like?

Your inner mother is the voice that shows up when you need nurturing, advice, or a push to expand in your life.

She can take many forms and voices throughout our lives. Sometimes she is incredibly soft, humming in the background, and other times assertive and persistent.

Below is an edited article excerpt of how our founder, Valencia, found her inner mother in 2018. We hope it inspires your relationship with your inner mother. 

There are moments when we find ourselves physically, mentally, and emotionally alone. 

When we are alone, who is there? Who guides us when we find ourselves swallowed in a sea of inadequacy? Who can dry us off with the warm towel of reassurance and confidence when we see ourselves soaked in anxiety and dripping with doubt?

I've always been very reflective, but until recently, I didn't realize how debilitating and unproductive some thoughts were. Overthinking is the black hole that I found myself in time and time again. When my thoughts crowded the room and space seemed too small for the stars, you could find me on my bed. I didn't want to move. I just sat and let the violent crashing of waves, currents of worry and uncertainty, pass. 

One night as I sat in the middle of my hurricane, a voice spoke to me. It seemed like another thought among many, but this one was different. This voice told me, "Go take a shower. You'll feel a lot better". And so, I did. I felt a lot better afterward. This voice told me, "Eat something. You haven't eaten all day". And I did. This nurturing source helped me step out of my boat of battles and lift myself. This voice was not a family member or friend; it felt distant. It was not the voice of a caring stranger either, for it was much more personal. It came from me. The source was a deeper part of me, full of love, care, guidance, knowledge, and truth. I recognized this voice whenever I gave advice, held a friend, or consoled family.

I like to refer to this voice now as my inner mother. When I think of my biological mother and what a mother is, I think of beginnings—the beginning of life, understanding, patience, truth, and strength amidst adversity. My inner mother has been my North Star. She is more than intuition and more than a conscience. She pulled me up when I saw no way out when there was no way out. She brings me confidence and clarity when I need it. She inspires me to ask myself the following questions regularly: What do I want? What do I need? What's good for me? How do I feel?

My inner mother has strengthened my relationships with meaningful people who provide abundant love and comfort. She's helped me understand that I am whole and worthy of loving myself. Because of her, I know I am the master of my mind, not the other way around. 

She has brought me to a space of wellness, self-acceptance, and continuous growth that I would not have genuinely found otherwise. She was the loudest whisper amongst the thoughts that screamed at each other. She guides me, to me. I hear her when I win small and lose big. 

I listen to her through silences of solitude and crescendos of confidence. I thank her.