I’ve spent most of my life reacting to fear in all the usual ways — running from it, numbing it, turning towards anger, or collapsing under its weight.

In the last couple of years, through the practice of Transformational Connection, I’ve begun to allow more and more of my fear to be experienced — a kind of somatic welcoming that seems to transform fear into empowerment, love, even joy. It feels easier to move toward fear when I'm in connection with another.

Self Love is commonly understood as managing our behaviors — choosing what’s good for us and staying away from what harms us. But what happens when that “care” becomes internal control — and a younger, angry part of you starts pushing back?

That’s what I realized in a recent inner journey. I became intimately aware of a strong internal polarization — between a rebellious, angry young teenager part, and a controlling, managerial part that’s always trying to fix.

For the first time in my life, I no longer feel like I’m “working.”

What I do now fills me. It feeds my mind, moves my body, stirs my soul. I find myself writing without effort. Sharing without hesitation. Creating from a place of presence and purpose that feels — finally — deeply, soulfully aligned.

I remember the night clearly. She was beautiful, kind, and she really wanted me. We had been dancing, drinking, kissing — everything was lined up. I should have felt lucky, excited, confident.

But instead, I felt weak. Embarrassed. Ashamed.

I had drunk almost 200ml of whiskey trying to calm myself down, trying to override the stress and fear. I didn’t want to lose my erection again. I didn’t want to feel like I always did — not enough, not man enough, not capable of giving or receiving.

For years, I immersed myself in yoga, dance, meditation—genuine practices that brought me closer to my breath, my body, and tangible moments of presence. I could feel a sense of flow while dancing, or a deep stillness during meditation. But when it came to building close relationships—the ones that really mattered—something still felt off, though I couldn't quite name it at the time.