@Thor Aarsand you mentioned using trending music for our transformation post.... All I want for Christmas by Mariah Carey is on the rise right now....

I managed to finish my transformation carousel Post and would love some feedback! Unfortunately I won't be able to make the live calls during the week but have been watching the replays. Here is a Google Drive link to my post. Would love your reflections 🤗 https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1YmwuOyRNCY_K8bwfyJnPXIN-ICB-XBPT?usp=sharing

I was three years old when my parents left me on the side of a highway in a ditch for misbehaving. Not just my dad—both of them. They drove away while I stood there barefoot, crying, trying to chase the car. For years, my mom would retell the story like it was a comedy bit—“Remember when we left you in the ditch?!”—and everyone would laugh. But I wasn’t laughing. That moment branded itself into my nervous system: If I’m not good, I’ll be left. That was the day I learned how to disappear. From that point on, I became a shapeshifter. The kid who did everything right. The one who made sure everyone else was okay so they wouldn’t leave. I learned that love was something to earn, not something that just was. My worth became conditional. My love became transactional. My safety became performance. By my teens, I was fluent in people-pleasing. By adulthood, I was a 10th-degree black belt in it—reading the room before I could read a book. If someone was upset, it was my fault. If something went wrong, I took the blame. If I wanted to be loved, I had to perform for it. On the outside, I looked like the “nice guy.” Easygoing. Agreeable. Always smiling. But inside, I was terrified—haunted by the fear that if I wasn’t perfect, I’d be left behind again. In friendships, I became whatever people needed me to be to keep the peace. In relationships, I confused passivity for kindness, thinking compliance was love. My life became an endless loop of seeking validation—through women, work, and approval. The external chase dulled the inner ache, but it never healed it. I was the adult still trying to prove to a three-year-old boy that he was safe. After that first awakening, I tried to rebuild—but I was still doing it from survival mode. I was still chasing connection from the same old wound, still trying to earn love instead of embody it. So, in my confusion, I did what wounded men do—I sought comfort in a woman. She was spiritual, nurturing, wise… everything I thought I needed. But I wasn’t ready for conscious love. I wasn’t looking for a partner—I was looking for a mother to fix me.

Drop your IG below!! Also considering making a DM groupchat for us to easier have faster communication and share ideas and our content! What do you think?