July 31st, 1999, my infant son Malachi died. I carried that loss for years as proof that I was a bad person—that somehow I deserved punishment. But the question that eventually changed everything wasn’t just about grief.

It was about love.

I wanted somebody to love me. I wanted somebody to love. And I had to face a brutal truth: I didn’t know what the hell love actually was.

I had spent my life accepting definitions handed to me by religion, culture, relationships, and expectations about who I was supposed to be. I thought love was something you earned after becoming the right kind of person.

So I sat down with a blue Bic pen and an accounting ledger. No pencil. Because I knew if I used a pencil, I would start erasing. I wrote down what I actually wanted. Not the answer that sounded good. Not the answer that made me look like a better person. The truth.

And then I asked myself the question I had spent years avoiding:

What if love is possible for someone like me?

What this episode IS:

• An honest conversation about shame, self-punishment, and the search for real love
• A personal story about questioning the definitions of love we inherit without realizing it
• An invitation to examine what you actually believe about your own ability to be loved

What it is NOT:

• A grief recovery formula
• A religious explanation for suffering
• A motivational speech telling you to ignore your pain and move on

This is about one question:

What if you are not as impossible to love as you have always believed?