Give. Me. Embarrassing agere.
Give me loud wailing and sobbing and clinging to a trusted person. Give me begging to "go home" whether that home is real and reachable or not. Give me crying for parents and siblings and grandparents and *anyone* who feels safer than the present situation.
Give me stress regression. Give me trauma response regression. Give me regression as a result of someone's self-soothing ability completely imploding.
Give me the gross parts of it. In writing, in drawings, in headcanon ramblings. The tantrums with snot and spit and red faces. The potty accidents. The bedwetting. The lashing out and yelling and hitting. The physical symptoms of feeling like you're no longer in full control of your mind and body. Let me see the MISBEHAVIOR that comes with feeling like a child in a body that's too big for you when everything is SCARY. The behavior you REGRET later.
Seeing the cozy, comforting, voluntary end of agere is so important when you're using it to comfort yourself.
But the embarrassment of it goes beyond "I use pacifiers and stuffed animals to self soothe after a hard day." for a lot of people. Acknowledge and accept that, too. Please.
