Returning to the Child Who Loved Everyone: A journey of remembrance, protection, and the reclaiming of my divine nature

By Luz Maria Campuzano

The Early Memory That Opened the Door Back to Myself

My path home began with a simple question. I wanted to remember who I was before the world shaped me. My teacher once said that we arrive closest to our divine essence in early childhood. Those first years reveal the soul before conditioning settles in. I went to the person who knew that child best. I asked my mother what I was good at, what gifts showed themselves before anything was molded.

She paused for a long stretch of time. When she finally spoke, she said I was the most loving child, that my affection reached everyone and it frightened her and my father. Her answer startled me. I expected stories of imagination, creativity, or talents. Instead she offered the truth of my heart.

Remembering the Child Who Loved Freely

Memories poured in. I remembered walking up to strangers and telling them I loved them. I sensed sadness in people and responded with instinctive compassion. I hugged anyone who felt heavy. I spoke love without hesitation. That current flowed through me without fear.

My family’s world told a different story. Strength mattered. Caution mattered. Silence revealed risk. These teachings entered early and shaped my steps.

Growing Up Between Two Worlds of Love and Vigilance

I grew up moving between my home and the South Side neighborhood of Pilsen, a place that shaped my senses. My grandparents lived there and their home was my second home. Much of my free time unfolded on those streets where awareness could be survival. Pilsen held the pulse of Chicago. It held voices hardened by experience and eyes trained to read people quickly. It held the wisdom of those who had seen the full spectrum of humanity.

My grandmother worked as a deputy sheriff at the Daley Center. She carried authority with a quiet steadiness. She watched everything. She knew how to protect what mattered. My mother grew up in the same landscape and carried her own sharp insight. Their instincts were shaped by years of witnessing how easily innocence could be harmed.

The Lessons That Protected What Was Sacred in Me

For a long time I thought I was being singled out or picked on. They urged me to speak up. They trained me to stay alert. They told me to trust slowly. They sharpened my perception. Their tone felt firm yet their intention held fear for my safety. Once my mother told me what I had been like as a child, everything aligned. My wide open heart had frightened them. They did not want my tenderness to meet the wrong kind of person.

These lessons were painful. I felt alone when I had to override my nature. I felt sadness rise as I tried to quiet my instinct to love everyone I met. Now I see those moments clearly. Their guidance protected the core of who I was.

The Strength That Allowed My Love to Survive

Their vigilance formed the structure that kept me safe. I lived much of my life in Chicago, going to school, building my career, and working in luxury real estate. The city became my playground, a place where I learned to move with awareness and trust my instincts. I never found myself at the receiving end of a crime. I never lost my sense of direction or intuition. Their teachings trained my vision and helped me understand the undercurrents of human behavior.

These lessons became the ground that allows me to let my love flow again without fear. They taught me to read energy with precision. They taught me to sense unspoken intentions. They gave me the discernment needed to keep myself protected while offering compassion to others.

Returning to the Heart I Was Born With

I have returned to the loving child my mother remembered. My affection flows again. My heart moves freely. My compassion rises without hesitation. There is wisdom woven through it now. There is clarity. There is strength that holds my softness rather than hiding it.

I can love fully while understanding the limitations of others. I can feel empathy without stepping into danger. I can hold space for someone’s humanity without losing my own safety. This balance is the gift my mother and grandmother gave me.

The Integration of Love and Wisdom

This journey brought me home to a deeper truth. Love does not need to be naive to be pure. Love grows stronger when supported by awareness. Love becomes a steady force when rooted in both tenderness and understanding.

The soul never loses its essence. It waits beneath the survival patterns we learn. When those patterns soften, the original self rises. Stronger. Wiser. Capable of loving the world without abandoning the self.

With so much love and gratitude, Luz María Campuzano