How to forgive yourself

Toddlers are confident.

If they want to sing, they sing.

If they want to dance, they dance.

If they want to draw, they draw.

If they want to color, they color.

If they want to play, they play.

Then, society beats them into submission. By the time they’re adults, their confidence is shot. They no longer sing, dance, draw, color, nor even play.

They sure work hard though. At least work wasn’t beat out of them.

Or, was that the whole point?

Picasso said all children are born artists. I agree with Picasso. But I’ll add society beats the artist out of them. Society murders the child and you’re left with a sad adult who dreams only what he’s allowed to dream.

So that’s it, right? Let’s all become cynical and give up our dreams. Then shoot up some heroin and die of an overdose because our inner childs are dead. Right?

Right?

No.

I got great news for you.

You have the greatest supercomputer on the planet right now as you’re reading this. And you know where it is?

It’s inside your skull.

You write the story you want to write about yourself. Even if someone else tried to write it for you. You get the final say.

You’re not only the final writer. You’re also the editor. With privileges that nobody else has.

You get to decide what part of your past is important and what isn’t. You get to decide what part of your past is worth remembering. Or talking about.

You’ll see two adults who had abusive parents.

One kid becomes a monster. Abuses his own children. Murders someone who looked at him wrong. Then spends the rest of his life rotting away in a cell.

And the other kid builds a company, employs 100 people, and helps build homes for poor folks on the side. Most caring guy you’ve ever met.

Same parents. Same abuse.

One continued the script. But the other took his script, tore it up, burned the pieces for good measure, then wrote an entirely different script. Because he wanted to end the generational trauma.

You don’t have to be abused or molested as a child to become beaten down by life. Life has a way of doing it to you on its own.

You could have had the best parents. Very supportive.

Great childhood.

But everything went wrong once you moved out.

That happens too.

But once again, you got a supercomputer in your head. You can write any script you want. And it all begins with one thing…

Tony was way smarter than I was.

Not even close.

He was the Production Lead. Anything ever went wrong in Production, they gave it to Tony. Because Tony knew how to fix anything and everything.

Tony got the big salary. Probably double what I made at the time and worth every single penny. Heck, he probably deserved even more.

But Tony was one of the most unhappy people I’ve ever known.

35 years old. Owns his home in Silicon Valley outright. Doesn’t own a car because he’s scared to drive.

Bullied in high school. Jocks. Stoners. Dorks. Dweebs. They all beat him up.

So he hates himself.

Outside of work, he befriended a few older ladies, old enough to be his mother. But Tony won’t hang out with men because of high school trauma.

I told him several times I could help him. He refused every single time.

35 years old. Owns his home outright in Silicon Valley. And still a virgin.

He liked one girl at work. Asked her out and she gave him the evil words. Then he went back into his hole.

Once again, I asked him to join our group. Nope. Because I had a Y chromosome.

I was friends with most of his female friends. They all said he was “cute” to “attractive.” Young enough to be their son though and of course, they were all married. Bummer for Tony.

There’s one thing I can’t do, my friends.

I can’t force anyone to do anything. They have to allow me to help them.

I could have fixed Tony in one year. Simply by helping him reprogram his brain.

And let two things sink in:

1. It’s not his fault,

2. He has to forgive himself. No, not the guys who beat him up. But himself.

It comes down to his unfinished story. He got beaten up. Then what?

What comes next?

You see, Tony never allowed the story to continue. He’s still stuck at “they beat me up in high school.” 35 years old and that’s still his story.

Dad didn’t like me. One day, he decided he wanted to have another family. A better family. One without me. One with better kids.

I could have continued with that story. But I decided to write my own chapters.

Dad didn’t like me. Then in high school, when I learned I’ll never even play college football, my life became meaningless. But then my friend Dale came along and said “Roman, you need to buy a guitar.” Then I became a guitarist.

And the rest was history.

You see, my story has a happy ending. I became a phenomenal musician. Never made it in the music industry but after several attempts, I got this hot chick pregnant, we decided to move close to each other to raise the kid together, we got along, and we eventually got married.

Now I’m doing pretty well as a corporate manager, saw half the world, have a successful Substack, and got a magazine coming out in a few days with a bunch of YOU in it.

You see what I just did there?

I continued my story. I forgave myself for hating myself because Dad left us. I decided instead of being the kid my father abandoned, I became a kick ass musician instead.

Tony never continued his story. He’s still stuck in high school.

He’s still the kid everyone beat up. So needless to say, he doesn’t turn on the girls, despite making twice what I made and despite being considerably better looking than his male co-workers.

His story is stuck. It hasn’t moved on. He’s still the bullied kid in high school, despite growing up to be over six feet tall and attractive.

Because he hasn’t forgiven himself.

Wherever you’re stuck, remember it’s not your fault. It happened. Forgive yourself. Then continue your story.

You can be the victim forever. Or, you can decide to simply continue your story.

I’m sorry the past happened to you. But it’s over.

Let’s move to the next page.

“It’s not that easy, Roman!”

Yes, it is.

The story continues when you want it to continue. You can continue spinning in the same loop like Tony does. Or you can forgive yourself, and continue your story.

You get to decide who you are. Not your bully. Not your parents. Not your boss at your current job. Not some government official.

You do.

I’m a writer. I’m an artist. I’m a musician. I’m a dad. I’m a husband. I’m a world traveler.

I wrote that script. Not my dad who doesn’t like me.

I have no idea where he is. If he’s alive or dead.

Wish him best, but not going to look for him.

I’ve moved on and I’m continuing my story to include some of y’all. Six of you are in the OT magazine that’s coming out in a few days. Six more of you will be in the next OT magazine. I had a blast creating the first issue and will enjoy making the second issue just as much.

So tell me. Who do you want to be?

Not who they want you to be.

Who do YOU want to be?

Then do what you have to do to become that person.

Whip out your journal. And start writing “I am” statements.

For instance, look what I just wrote up above. I am a writer. I am an artist. I am a musician. I am a dad. I am a husband. I am a world traveler.

“I am” are the two most powerful words in the English language.

Who are you?

Journal it. With “I am” statements.

You know what I’m not?

I am not an abandoned child. I abandoned that bullshit a long time ago. No longer care once I continued my story with “I am a guitarist.”

You get to write the rest of your story.

That toddler you once were? Bring him back.

Enjoy singing again. Enjoy dancing again. Enjoy drawing again. Enjoy coloring again. Enjoy playing again.

No one can stop you. Because you’re the author of your story.

Make the rest of your story memorable.