The idea of the inner child is something I've seen more and more often online (and have discussed with some of my friends as well). With the rise in popularity of therapy speak in online spaces and it's role in justifying retail therapy, the reference to the inner child is one that can feel a bit cliché, indulgent, or performative. Even so, I think there's merit in examining who that inner child is for yourself, and what role the concept can play in your life.

My inner child is an insecure, short, skinnyfat, and angsty individual that never quite fit in - too Korean in the US and too American in Korea. He is under both external and internal pressure, the former from his mom, who uses thinly-veiled jabs and comparisons to apply it, and the latter from his perceived intellectual inadequacy compared to his dad. He's socially awkward, having built his understanding of social norms bottoms-up from various cliques and situations at his local American public school. He's smart, but is scared to express it for fear of being ostracized.

As I progressed through high school and college, I learned that it's often socially advantageous to hide that inner child, to shield him from the world. He'll have crude remarks, can be an insufferable smartass, and can generally get on one's nerves. I viewed this containment as progress - after all, I was becoming a more well-adjusted, socially-integrated version of myself, right? One that could secure club leadership positions, get tapped for a senior society, and get a prestigious internship and postgrad job.

While working as a consultant in NYC, that inner child became increasingly lost from the world. As adult aspirations filled my mind, I grew further and further from my inner child. Sure, I was moving up the corporate ladder, and the money I made wasn't unwelcome, but I could feel the curiosity and wonder I had had for the world fading away - discovering how a molecular cascade of proteins drives an immune response, dissecting the mechanical system of cables that control bicycle gear shifters, or understanding why so many things in nature tend to a bell curve.

There's an idea of happiness / fulfillment that is measured off of one's alignment to one's 'true self'. Aristotle wrote about the importance of living in accordance with one's nature for εὐδαιμονία (eudaimonia, roughly translated as happiness), and Maslow saw authenticity as a characteristic of a self-actualized individual. When I thought about these ideas, my first question was always, "who defines that true self?" I don't think I have a perfect answer yet, but that inner child that I've neglected for so long is probably closer to that true self than what societal expectations of success have shaped me to be.

Growing up, my parents didn't have the disposable income for me to pursue some of my passions, and others were deliberately culled based on how helpful they would be for college admissions. It hasn't been easy to unlearn this reflex, but I think I've made significant progress. Though this freedom is a luxury, I do think there's at least some level of virtue in using the resources and capital that I've accrued to nurture that inner child. Of course, there's a limit to which it makes sense, but I'm learning to spend money on things that the inner child always wanted, like this $25 mechanical pencil.

Excuse what might be a cliché association, but to me, this chapter represents a renewed focus on and investment in my inner child. Nothing in life is binary, so this obviously doesn't mean I'm returning to acting like the annoying know-it-all that disrupted the classrooms of Riverside County public schools. However, I'm hoping that this shift to nurturing, accepting, and loving my inner child helps bring me closer to happiness and contentment.