30/10/2025
In 2006, I was asked to play out of position.
And I said, “I’ll play anywhere for this team.”
But when things went wrong, I was discarded.
No support. No word. Just silence.
That moment broke something open inside of me.
It showed me how deep my wound with the masculine really ran.
How much I had been searching for recognition,
longing to be seen, guided, and held by strong men.
When we grow up without a present father,
a part of us keeps searching for him everywhere we go.
We look for him in coaches, mentors, leaders —
men we hope will say, “I see you, I believe in you, I’ve got you.”
But that search can become a lifelong ache,
because what we’re really looking for
is the part of ourselves that still needs to be fathered.
For years, I placed my worth in the hands of others,
waiting for that moment of recognition that never truly came.
And every time I was let down,
the wound opened a little wider.
Now, as a father myself, I see what truly matters.
It’s not about being perfect.
It’s about being present.
It’s about truth, consistency, and showing up — again and again.
It’s about looking my boy in the eyes and saying,
“I’ve got you, son. I’m right here.”
Because that’s where the cycle ends.
That’s where the wound finds peace.
When I choose not to abandon my own boy —
not to leave him to figure it out alone,
not to let silence become his story.
When I meet him with love, strength, and unwavering presence,
the lineage heals.
The chain of pain breaks.
And together, we begin again — free, whole, and at peace. ❤️🔥🕊️
