No Way! Really?
I told him what life is like now.
My Younger Me blinked. “No way. Really? You mean like… all of our dreams come true?”
It caught me off guard—not because he was wrong, but because he was so right.
He wasn’t naming the surface dreams. He was speaking of the ones that actually mattered. The true ones. Core. Essential.
Growing up, I had a lot of expectations. Some of them were built on this quiet vow: I would not follow in my father’s footsteps.
I also never wanted to experience poverty the way my mom, my brother, and I sometimes did. Not abject poverty, but the kind that leaves you out of step with other kids in your group. Left out in ways that don’t always have a name.
I dreamed of connection. Of love. Of safety that didn’t feel fragile. Of a life where I wouldn’t have to pretend everything was okay just to get by.
Now? When I describe my life—the tools I use in my work, sure, but even more… the depth I get to go to with people, the co-creating—I hear his voice again: “No way. Really?”
And honestly? If I truly tune in… it’s the least surprising answer. This is who I hoped I’d become.
When I share the steps and missteps, the peaks and valleys, the muck and the suck—he listens. And I see something in his face. This… mystical glee. Like he sees something I forget. And I’m really appreciating how he sees things right now.
Because let’s be real. The task lists? Still here. The laundry to do… hasn’t changed. The bills to pay… hasn’t changed. The daily human ‘grind’ never actually disappears.
But then come the real questions.
Am I going to make it through this?
Can I be thriving anyway?
Right now, I can say yes.
Tomorrow? Maybe not.
If I don’t get the sleep I need, if something rattles me—I might forget.
But he doesn’t.
He remembers.
He says, “Wow. We’ve arrived.”
But a part of me thinks, “Yeah, ok… but NOW what?!?”
Another wiser part just nods.
Now we settle.
We strengthen.
We experience.
We celebrate.
There’s something I’ve seen in people like us—those with trauma, especially secret trauma. There’s a drive in us to heal. But even deeper than that… there’s this profound hope.
That we’ll become the person we needed.
The person who would notice.
Not the ones who ignored it or glossed over it. The person who might say, “Hey, I’m sensing something here—is that true?” And who’d stay. Listen. Accept us… all parts of us.
Space and trust over time… that’s what made it possible. That even the dark stuff could be spoken. Could be held. Could be healed.
We start noticing what we won’t tolerate anymore. We stop hiding our big emotions. We stop apologizing for feeling deeply.
Eventually, we’re free enough to steer clear of those who harm us. And to draw close to those who know how to honor body, mind, and spirit with respect.
That’s when we start building real connection. Kinship. The kind we didn’t think was possible.
He of my sacred past sees all of this.
He says, “Really? That’s awesome.”
And I feel the relief in him.
And I’m grateful.
Because…
He didn’t give up.
He didn’t take his life.
He kept going.
He hid things as long as he needed to.
And then—when the space was safe—he began.
He began the healing.
And the healer’s journey that continues to this day.
Thank you, buddy.
Onwards.
Useful Concepts for Thriving in This Story
-
Future Self
Our future self is a wise witness to who we’re in the process of becoming—and a partner in the path forward. We are the Future Self to our Past Self. -
Healing
Healing means trusting that even the hidden parts can be brought into light, held, and made whole. -
Co-Creating
Co-creating is the soul-deep joy of shaping life in meaningful connection with others. -
Better Boundaries
Better boundaries let us feel safe enough to be real—and wise enough to walk away. -
Resilience
Resilience is remembering what matters and coming back to ourselves… again and again.
