There’s confusion about what I lean into for the love Sharon and I share. Is it Neville Goddard, the law of attraction, the law of assumption, or some other spiritual or manifestation technique? I’ve explored all of that and more—Bob Proctor, Tony Robbins, NLP, chants, mantras, religion. If any of those approaches work for you, keep doing them. For me, something else became far more important: getting honest about who I actually am.

I grew up in a household where physical and emotional abuse was presented as love. My parents put a Bible in front of me while kicking my ass and told me they did it because they loved me. That early experience made it hard to distinguish kindness from manipulation, and it shaped the kinds of intimate relationships I later found myself in.

So how do you define a loving relationship when you’ve never really experienced what you believe one could be? In this conversation I look at that question through self-concept and internal dialogue rather than through another method. I talk about examining my emotional reactions in the moment, taking responsibility for how I show up with Sharon, and questioning my own perceptions instead of automatically blaming my past or someone else.

I’m not offering a new manifestation technique. I’m describing how learning to understand myself, moment by moment, afforded me the opportunity to experience a kind of love I once couldn’t clearly imagine.

People have told me — more than once, and from people who consider themselves spiritually advanced — that it seems like I'm trying to justify my happiness. Like I'm making a comparison, letting everyone know how bad things were and how good they are now. So justify this.

Today is May 20th, 2023. My son would have been 24 today. He was born May 20th, 1999, and he died July 31st, 1999. When he died, it challenged everything I thought I knew — not just religion, not just parenthood, not just the sanctity of life. Why did this happen to me, was I not the right kind of father, had I sinned too much. I don't have those questions anymore. When I tell that story now, it doesn't carry the emotional impact it once did, and that's because I don't take it personally.

I'm not denigrating anybody's trauma or claiming my life was worse or better than yours. His death was physical and also symbolic of a lot of other deaths — dreams, marriages, hopes — and it has taken me a very long time to get here. When you arrive at a certain point, the people around you may say you've changed, that you're almost unlikable, almost arrogant. So be it.

You are not beholden to any other living being on this planet other than yourself. That sounds like selfishness. It is. You cannot live someone else's life. You don't owe anybody an explanation. Take the time to get to know who you are — or who you'd like to be.