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A quiet ache can echo for years, shaping how we love, trust, and show up. This episode leans into that ache with honesty and care, tracing the line from father wounds and inner child pain to a steady, lived sense of worth. We speak candidly about the moments that make us feel small—being talked at, not to; watching others be celebrated; wondering why love seems conditional—and we show how naming these patterns loosens their grip without turning our story into a diagnosis.
Across a reflective, poetic arc, we explore how comparison rubs raw against fragile self-concept and why familiar pain keeps finding us until we choose differently. You’ll hear a shift from why me to my turn, supported by simple tools that anyone can use: boundary-setting that protects connection and anchor faith in daily life, and a choose, act, reflect, repair, repeat loop that builds resilience without pretending the road is easy. Tears are not a setback here; they are data and release, a sign that the body is clearing space for something truer.
Faith runs like a spine through the conversation—not as a shortcut, but as a practice that steadies attention when doubt gets loud. We talk about speaking to the inner child with respect, catching the urge to flee before it steers the day, and stepping toward opportunities even when readiness feels far away. By the end, the promise is simple and hard-won: healing is underway, you are not alone, and hope grows stronger each time you choose it. If this resonates, share it with someone who needs a gentle word today, subscribe for more grounded reflections, and leave a review telling us the line that stayed with you.
"You can't have a wish that only hopes" - Jason Abel -
Music Info: Sad & Somber (Free Music) - "DISINTEGRATING" by @Myuu 🇺🇸
Support the show
By Robin BlackSend a text
A quiet ache can echo for years, shaping how we love, trust, and show up. This episode leans into that ache with honesty and care, tracing the line from father wounds and inner child pain to a steady, lived sense of worth. We speak candidly about the moments that make us feel small—being talked at, not to; watching others be celebrated; wondering why love seems conditional—and we show how naming these patterns loosens their grip without turning our story into a diagnosis.
Across a reflective, poetic arc, we explore how comparison rubs raw against fragile self-concept and why familiar pain keeps finding us until we choose differently. You’ll hear a shift from why me to my turn, supported by simple tools that anyone can use: boundary-setting that protects connection and anchor faith in daily life, and a choose, act, reflect, repair, repeat loop that builds resilience without pretending the road is easy. Tears are not a setback here; they are data and release, a sign that the body is clearing space for something truer.
Faith runs like a spine through the conversation—not as a shortcut, but as a practice that steadies attention when doubt gets loud. We talk about speaking to the inner child with respect, catching the urge to flee before it steers the day, and stepping toward opportunities even when readiness feels far away. By the end, the promise is simple and hard-won: healing is underway, you are not alone, and hope grows stronger each time you choose it. If this resonates, share it with someone who needs a gentle word today, subscribe for more grounded reflections, and leave a review telling us the line that stayed with you.
"You can't have a wish that only hopes" - Jason Abel -
Music Info: Sad & Somber (Free Music) - "DISINTEGRATING" by @Myuu 🇺🇸
Support the show