The 8 year old

I haven't started to work today. Instead, I have been reading blogs and sending emails to friends. I was reading Willow's, authentic awakening... and she asked this question that she found on spunk daisy's site.

If your 8-year-old self was standing in front of you right now and you would only be given 5 minutes to talk to him, what would you tell him?

That is a very good question. Only 5 minutes. My son's are about this age. What will I tell them?

I would go back and tell myself that it shouldn't take you 39 years to learn to love yourself. Don't let others hurt you by making you feel less of yourself. You will be loved Chris, you always will be loved.

That's about it.. I don't think I could say anymore. I would start crying and then my 8 year old self would wonder what the hell this old guy was telling me. Maybe less is more. If there was one thing that I wish I could have learned much faster is that... I am who I am and you better start liking yourself because, you'll have to live with yourself for a long time.. as long as you live :)

When I was young, I barely spoke. I was terminally shy. I spoke funny, I mumbled. I had very few friends. When I was 16 my dentist noticed that I was physically toungetied... that little web that is under your tounge, went all the way to the front of my tounge and I couldn't stick my tounge out of my mouth.. I couldn't pronounce words correctly. He had it fixed that day. It took me awhile to learn to speak correctly and sometimes I still mumble, but I also can speak very fast. I was a 'husky' kid.. never skinny. When high school came, I had debiliating acne.. not just normal zits.. I had puss oozing bloody sores on my back, chest and forehead. This lasted throughout high shool and into college. I never went out on a date. I volunteered to be experimented on for a new drug called Acutane. I took it pills each day and each day I would stop by the hospital to have my blood taken and my vitals to see if i was dying.. but it was to stop the acne and it worked. Two months later, I was acne free, but not scar free. I stil thought i was a freak. I went out to one of the punk bars that I always would go to.. and a few weeks later I was going to U.K. to cover some senior year credits overseas. I met my ex wife in that bar. She was nice to me, but I never felt that I could trust her. Her parents pretened to be very nice to me.. looking back, it seemed like some evil scheme to marry off thier daughter to the rich kid with low self esteem. She would tell me that I was ugly, that I would never meet anyone else.. and I was a virgin because nobody else would want me. She made me feel like dirt and then buy me a gift or pretend to be so nice in front of my family. I felt lost and after 2 1/2 years my mother told me that I should get married. I felt that she too thought I would find nobody else. So, I got married. The minute that I said "I do" I felt like I had made the mistake of my life. I didn't listen to my guardian angel that kept warning me.. kept showing me how she was lying, how she would back stab me. That night she opened up all the gifts... all the cards and took all the money and gave it to her father. She said "he can't really afford this wedding"
It didn't get better, it got worse.. day by day.. my self esteem was only built up at work. I loved going to work, I had "work friends" but we never saw each other outside of work. 7 years later, we had a baby...

Then, one day.. when I was on a trip.. I found AOLs chat rooms. I started to talk to people online.. and I made a friend. She lived in Detroit and I told her my story.. she listened and told me that it was wrong.. that I wasn't ugly.. that I shouldn't feel threatened by her. I didn't have to do all the laundry and all the cleaning and all the cooking and feel as if I better do it right.. I should feel like I do everything wrong.. that I had to start to learn to love myself. Eventually, I started to see my life in the third person... I saw what I had become and I realized that one of the reasons that I was the way I was... was because.. my parents didn't show love.. they hated each other.. I knew that I didn't love my wife.. I didn't love her.. I never really loved her. I didn't know what love really was until my boys came. I knew I would do anything for them.. but I wished my wife would just go away. I decided that I needed to get away, to save myself, to save my boys.

I wish someone would have told me... when I was 8 years old.. that no matter what.. I should love myself and that I was good.. and that nobody should be able to hurt me the way some people will try. Just walk away from people that don't love you Chris... I don't know if I would have listened.

I will tell my boys that, the next time I see them.

And... thanks Tony... thanks Imelda, thanks Bekah, thanks Kaydee, thanks Scorpy, thanks Karen, thank you everyone.. for helping me.