Dear Reader, this is raw rough draft contemplations of being true to ones self.

Until this year, I fully believed that if someone got upset over a situation with me, that I was 100% wrong. Growing up I went to daycare with my mom’s older sister, Aunt Linda and her two adopted kids. Aunt Linda had a bad heart and was sick a lot. She was also angry and the mandate made by my grandmother was to ‘not upset’ Linda. My uncle Wayne died from Cancer in 1982 when I was 5. I remember his as a skinny Hank Williams Jr. He was always angry and yelling. As a young kid, I learned to become something that would get the yelling to stop. Like a scared chameleon in a dark jungle fully of hungry predators, I sold out my wants and desires, being right, discussing calmly the full story, to blend into the topic and not upset anyone. When I would slip and share information to my mom, she would yell. I remember her gaze, locked away looking at some unknown thing on the horizon. I remember staring at the door of that old brown Volkswagen Rabbit. Her silence was wrapped in old 1980’s county songs struggling to play on the single speaker in the dash. It had a tear in it that would make it buzz. The old thick am radio was the only light in the darkness. The faded yellow light barely kept the fixed analog station numbers lit, weak and tired, trying to hold back the darkness. Hot tears would wet my checks as I tried to be quiet.

I was so excited to have Star Wars action figures in the 1980’s during my childhood. When I played with them, I felt heavy emotions. One time I was packing up my figures into my Darth Vader carrying case. I could not find Yoda’s cane. I had just seen it several minutes ago. My older cousin began to help me look for it. I looked in the weapons locker, under the case, in the cracks and found nothing. My stomach sank, I was worried I would disappoint my mother, wasting money she spent on toys. I looked and looked, never once even believing my cousin was the one that stole it and then projected innocence helping me look for it. This situation repeated itself over and over and soon over 20 of my action figures were missing. I said I wanted to look through his room and see if I could find them. He said I could search everywhere except for the second drawer of his dresser. I waited for him to get called out of the room, and there I found all of my missing toys. I proudly took the bag out to show my mother that I had found all of my toys. All of the adults were watching a football game, and they told me to be quiet. Then I went back in the room to play with my stolen toys with my evil cousin that denied stealing them.

During this dark time of my childhood my cousin took me into my grandmother’s garage and handed me a letter that he received from ‘The Phantom’. He described it as a dark spirit that was watching us. I asked him why the Phantom had his exact handwriting. He told me he sent a letter to his friend with the full alphabet on it to his friend and it never made it. He said it was stolen by the Phantom. I proceeded to read the letter, and it said that the Phantom would cause someone in the family to die, and it had a list with all of the adults on it. His own mothers name was on it. I was 8 years old when this happened. I was yelled at when I brought this up to the grownups. 2 years later his mom died of heart failure.

No parent is ever going to be 100%. I believe that responsibility to fill in the gaps in on the individual. If you are 5, 15 or 50 when you figure it out, it is, on you… to figure it out. Honesty about what happened and how you felt is key to decoding the trauma. Accepting it happened. Right or Wrong. It happened. A lot of the characters in my story are long dead and go. There are no epiphany conversations to be had. Seeking a ‘Sorry… will only sink you… sorry.

I figured out that I need to place my value in my soul. The part of me where my thoughts live. My body, the years and resources I lost to those who hate and despise me cannot have weight on my heart. That attachment has brought only heartache and regret. For you, dear reader. I would like for you to see yourself as unique and eternally valuable. There is no one else who has your talents and your story. Don’t make any negative decisions based on the lies the people that resent and hate you pour out on your time, body and resources. Pause and be still for a moment and realize you perhaps need to find yourself in the dark jungle with the predators gone. Take a deep breath and deep exhale and let the light of your mind illuminate the beautiful true colors of the pure you.

-Zach Gilbert 2026