The Weight and Wonder of Not Giving Up
June 01, 2025
Uncertainty. That’s what this is.
Will I find true connection?
Will I become a good therapist?
Will I be a good enough father to my son?
These are the kinds of questions that don’t come with guarantees.
And yet, somehow, I’m starting to believe the answers.
I Think I Will
I think I will be a good therapist.
I think I am a good dad —
even though I’ll never complete that role in full.
It’s a job that lasts a lifetime, and one that doesn’t ask for perfection — only presence.
The uncertainty that lingers most is this:
Will I ever have real, lasting connection?
Not just the kind you pay for.
Not just fleeting glimmers that vanish before they can root.
But long-term, mutual, steady love.
The Shame of Wanting
When I start to feel that need rise in me, there’s a part of me that wants to shove it back down.
Because I’ve learned — painfully — that showing how much I need connection can push people away.
So I withhold.
Not because I don’t feel it — but because I fear that feeling will make me too much, again.
But it’s not my fault I’m here.
I didn’t have the support I needed.
I was gaslit by the people who should have nurtured me.
Taught to distrust my own knowing.
Made to feel responsible for my parents’ sadness, as if it were mine to fix.
That’s not a child’s burden.
It never was.
I Didn’t Give Up
If I take a real look at the path behind me, it’s remarkable I’m still here.
- Two stays in hospital.
- No addiction to numb the pain, even when the pain was loud.
- No running — not in the end.
- Just quiet, persistent walking through the fire.
I could have lost myself.
To weed. To porn. To food.
To shame. To despair.
But I didn’t.
I chose to keep showing up.
I Am Blossoming
No one gave me compassion for these things.
In fact, many shamed me more when I revealed them.
They made me feel even more alone in the moments I most needed to be seen.
So if no one else will give it to me — I will.
I am okay.
I am lovable.
And I love myself.
What I Know Now
I know that one day I’ll find beautiful people.
People who love gently, and see me clearly.
And I know that if I’m not quite there yet — in terms of health, regulation, ease —
I can get there.
This path I’m walking — into therapy, into healing —
It’s not just for others.
It’s for me, too.
And I believe, truly, that when I’m around people who love me —
I won’t just blossom. I’ll bloom.