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Personal Sharings / Healing Fragmentation

Motherbody Memories
The Needy Baby

I desperately want to heal this, but it feels like it's bigger than me, bigger than my life. It feels like my biggest and deepest imprint. It colors everything I do, every relationship, every interaction, there's nothing that isn't affected by my Needy Baby.

I believe she was - is - motherbody. But I guess that could be wrong. I don't know. It doesn't matter. Except that it seems important somehow, to know the genesis of her, to understand why she is the way she is. She seems to be tied so viscerally to all my body. It IS legitimate, her birth and formation. Her origins are not evil, but she's been seen as evil a lot.

I have hated her for so long. She triggers such knee-jerk rage in me, when she's reflected in the needy, the dependent, the clingy children or animals. And yet, I see me there in their eyes, I see HER, my Needy Baby, looking out of their eyes at me, sadly, angrily, hungrily.

She has ruined almost every relationship I've ever had. She clings and claws, she has expectations and jealousies and possessiveness, she has rages and blame. She holds long seething grudges when her needs are not met. She refuses to open or forgive when she's been spurned or neglected. She's a nasty, pewling, demanding infant, who acts like a spoiled child.

I have not wanted to be her, I have not wanted to own her, and yet... I must. She is mine. She is me.


There was the hunger and aloneness and emptiness of the void.
That's all there was.
There was nothingness and cold and starvation and pain.
There was lack and compression and bites in the dark.
There was awareness that somebody else was out there, that I was forgotten, that there was life going on... "over there", without me.

I felt like a large, newly born child.
A leviathan, a baby whale, a Baby Huey, lost in space.
I sensed my own largeness, and felt huge and clumsy, inept and unattractive.

I am so angry!
Anger, hate, rage, no words are big enough to say it.
I HATE!!!!!!!
Hate, HATE, HATE!!!!!
I want to DESTROY!!!!!!!!
I want to grab and hold and clutch and suck and feed.
I want to know nourishment.
For once.
I want to know warmth.
I want to know comfort, and arms around me.

And when somebody finally came, I felt them looking at me with that same sort of disgust, and I couldn't understand. They seemed to be thinking that I was big, so I should act big. I should be more grown up than I am.


What does that mean? I don't know, and I don't know HOW to know. How can I be more grown up? If I be more grown up, will you feed me then? If I act more like you want me to, then will you hold me and comfort me and feed me and shine your light on me?

I watch, I listen, I try to mimic. I'm still a baby, and big and clumsy, but I can copy the way they look, the way they stand, the way they toss their hair and seem to not care. But ... it doesn't help. I still don't get what I need. The only way to please THEM is to act like I don't need, to act like I'm grown up and independent, but ... I'm only doing it in order to get my hunger fed. I can't EVER really NOT care. I can't ever really NOT be needy.

And I take in a huge bunch of words that tell me how bad and wrong I am. I am Selfish. I am Unloving. I am Demanding. I don't think about others. I don't care about others. I whine. I am never satisfied. I am "being a baby".

I'm a big fat gaping maw of a Needy Baby. Yes! I AM selfish, and self-centered. I don't care WHY you didn't feed me. I don't care what your reasons are, or how rational they are. I don't care anything about anybody else at all! I only care that I am hungry, and lonely, and cold. I don't want excuses! I want FOOD! And LIGHT!!! And love that will reach its warm fingers down into my cold bones and pull up the frozen tears that I so badly need to shed. I need comfort and rocking and holding and home. I have no home.

I would weep huge crocodile tears, and drown in self-pity, but I am scorned for this, and told to grow up, get tough, quit feeling sorry for myself!

I don't know how to do it! I don't know how to evolve, how to become whatever it is ... I am not.

Layer upon layer I grow without really growing up. I put on outfit after outfit, covering my gaping needy wounds with the outer appearances of growing up. I live in a grownup woman body. But inside I am a screaming, demanding, clamoring, wasted, frozen, starving, long-neglected infant that never did grow up or heal enough to evolve... at all. Not at all.


Although the rest of me has cried and grown and found ability to love, and even can think of others sometimes, this big Needy Baby lives inside my skin, and sometimes reaches out to grab somebody and make demands and find fault and feel blame. She has been desperate to find somebody to listen, to give her what she needs. She fabricates things, pretends about people, tries to make them fit what she wants them to be, and is angry when the object of her desire pulls away even a nano-smidgy.

And she feels every nano-smidgy as a mile.

She feels the very tiniest hesitation to give as a two-by-four in the face.

She believes she is wrongness in her very being. And I believe if I let her show too much, she will get me rejected. When has it ever been different? How many lifetimes have I done this same thing, over and over and over again? And even if I don't manage to have neglectful or abusive parents, I find someone who will abuse me or ignore me or treat me coldly. And so I believe this hunger is what I deserve. Again. That IS reality. It's a very self-perpetuating pattern. Self-justifying.

But it's not her fault! She couldn't be anything other than an angry needy baby, given her beginnings.

I keep her, I cry her, I AM her. She is what I am, this is what I am, I rock and whisper to myself, this is what I am. Nobody will like me, nobody will be able to stand me, my rage is too irrational and blaming, and hurtful, and a hundred other things...

This is what I am.
This is what I am.

I'm terrified to be her, out here where you can see me.

this is what I am...

Next.... The Pounding
These Stories:
->Needy Baby
The Pounding
The White Mother
The Golden Mother

More Motherbody Memories:
First Memories: Primordial Terror
Poem to God
Wee Heart

Related Pages:
Need Behavior Patterns
Musings on the Original Problem: Need

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