To My Old Email Address: grow up … and yes I love you …

I first discovered email in 1996 on an orange iMac with (cringe) AOHELL (as a computer geek admitting one actually paid AOL is the digital version of black socks with high water polyester slacks). Claiming the screen name ‘boykenji’ in 1996 I committed the sin of “wont grow up” (I was 34); no longer a boy, but clearly not yet a man.

It wasn’t a conscious choice; just an old ghost of a personality that pined for another version of teenage years that weren’t rife with “chink”, “freak”, or “fag” (ah Jr. High school, teenage boys should be muzzled). Who amongst us didn’t have crappy teen years? Isn’t that the definition of puberty?

I often see this in my coaching, so many of us (myself included) with these shadow selves from our childhood and teen years: would-a, could-a, should-a. But the neat news is that we can learn to re-love who we weren’t in the past with actions, now, that may look different from our everyday grind: clothes shopping, rides on roller coasters, and for me rolling down hills (yes, at 49, I love rolling down hills); ultimately it’s the re-parenting of ourselves that counts.

Working with my clients is such a blessing as they show me the steps I need to take: What does that little kid in you need to hear? What’s her name? Where does she live? They always have the answers that usually come down to: protection (safe parenting), love, and attention. Isn’t that what we all want at the end of the day? To be seen, loved, and held?

Someone once said to me we’re either coming from love or from the fear of not being loved. What’s your fear? Who needs to hear today “I love you”? You? A friend? A family member? I have a challenge for you: call that person that you’ve silently agreed with to not say “I love you” to, today, right now … go do it and come back and tell us all what happened!?

I don’t know you … but I love you.

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