Quiet Integrations and Honest Connections
June 10, 2025
When you finally grieve what was never there, something surprising happens—you begin to meet people more honestly. Including yourself.
It’s interesting how the deepest pain, once accepted, stops being overwhelming. I thought facing the truth of my childhood would break me—and it did, in ways—but now that I’ve been drip-fed the grief and rage and loneliness over time… it’s just there. Real. But not drowning me.
There’s a kind of indifference that’s not numb—it’s acceptance.
And that’s changing everything.
Yesterday, at the dentist, something small happened—but it stuck with me. She asked about my life, and I mentioned I build websites. Her whole tone shifted. She shared how hers was costing too much, how she felt overwhelmed. And for a moment, she looked almost childlike. Vulnerable. Like she half-expected me to mock her confusion.
But instead, I met her where she was. I didn’t fix it for her. I told her how I would’ve asked the same questions to ChatGPT, even shared tips—like asking it to speak to her like she’s eight years old. And at first, she hesitated. Maybe she thought I was brushing her off.
But then something clicked. Her guard dropped. She actually opened it there and then and tried it.
It wasn’t about the website. It was about being seen in a place she felt insecure—and met with kindness instead of superiority. That kind of interaction… it used to be rare for me. Now it’s almost normal.
And it wasn’t just her. Every interaction that day felt more honest. More real.
Not because other people changed—but because I’m not leading with that wounded part of me anymore. He’s still there, but he’s not driving the car. The fear that “if I don’t get connection, I’ll die” doesn’t rule me now. That was the child in me screaming for love.
But I’m not a child anymore. I’m an adult. I can hold myself now. And I do.
And oddly, that very truth—that I don’t need anyone to rescue me—is exactly what makes connection feel better. Because when it happens, it’s not about filling a void. It’s just a gift. A shared moment between two humans. No grasping. No proving. Just presence.
I don’t need fake connection anymore. I enjoy the real thing—but I’m not desperate for it. And that’s the paradox: the less I need it, the more it comes.
Integration is quiet like that.