Hey there, you, or should I say me?

Remember how cripplingly shy you once were? Can you recall those times where you’d purposely leave to use the bathroom at a restaurant so someone else in the family would have to handle your order?

I can still see you standing in a McDonald’s bathroom with the door cracked, peering out , making sure your brother had ordered for both of you before coming back out. I can still imagine that beet red face after a teacher called on you to answer in school. I can still feel the warmth and rush of blood filling out those cheeks when your turn came to share. I can still taste the countless words that you swallowed because that seemed easier than sharing.

And yet, I also remember a young boy who had not even the slightest problem with sharing things loudly and proudly at the dinner table. A youngster who would crack jokes and imitate Johnny Bravo’s famous “Flex the pecs” move at home. I seem to recall that at times, despite their best efforts, your family could not keep you from sharing your voice, your jokes, your energy.

You were seemingly two different people.

The truth, though, was you didn’t believe in yourself unconditionally. When you were at home, surrounded by family, you felt safe(r) to let your freak flag fly, to let your authentic self forth, and to share your every thought- be they silly, serious, or some combo of the two.

I’m not sure that you ever thought about that or consciously grasped that it was a lack of true self-love that created this discrepancy. I am sure, however, that you seemed to most of the world to be a shy guy. Not that you thought of this a bad thing- it was what it was. You had your tribe with whom trust was strong enough to drop the protective shy façade and engage.

And yet, there were times, talking to a cute girl (you married Carmella by the way!) or an adult you admired, that you wished to break through that fragile facade, but it seemed to be almost a force of habit- the demure tone, the fumbling for words, the downcast eyes automatically engaged in certain situations. As did the pools of nervous sweat.

Well, my young friend, I’m here to tell you, you’ve broken through those instincts, although the sweat is still real (sorry kid!). You’ve made the change. You’ve spoken at graduations, instructed thousands of kids, shared your voice through poetry, rap, and song with complete strangers no less. And just how did this happen?

Finding an unconditional love for yourself. Accepting who you are and realizing that you’re no better or worse than anybody. You are you, and you deserve to own that as much as possible. Does this mean those old habits don’t still creep in? Does this mean you handle each interaction with consciousness and confidence? Not yet, my young friend, but I promise you, I’m working each and every day to reach that mountain peak. When we get there, my what a view we’ll have. And if we never do, well, I can take comfort in knowing that I’m walking forward with purpose, and that I’m carrying you with me with each step I take.

A Poem For Future Me

Would I change my past, if given the chance?

What would happen if I took different steps in this dance?

Lord knows I’ve stumbled, bumbled, and fallen face first like a fool.

Lord knows I’ve struggled to utilize properly each trick and tool.

Especially those of used for speaking with strength,

And those for engaging with power to go any length,

And when cashing the checks I should take to the bank.

I now know better, got more fuel in my tank,

But I’m still on the journey of becoming, and if I may be frank,

I think part of overcoming a challenge is less about leaving it behind,

But rather making a peaceful relationship with it in your mind.

The shy guy I was, and the confident me, they are intertwined.

One’s not to be praised and the other maligned,

Rather, I must remember to both to be kind.

Not just kind as in nice, but the other meaning too,

To recognize that every little part of me is a kind of you.

Thus, I must speak, yes, to overcome this hard task,

But I must also learn to listen and ask.

Silence is valuable, and it speaks just as loud,

As the rapper with the microphone, moving a crowd.

The key here for me is to steer clear of fear,

That way I can drive in the highest of gears.

Thank you for being you, and for helping me to become me,

Love always,
Paul