It’s been a long time since I last wrote you a letter. Even though we talk briefly over video calls every day, today I feel like sharing some thoughts with you.

For me, the most important conversations are the ones we have with ourselves. Not because they’re particularly profound, but because self-talk often carries the most damage, draining more than half of our energy.

Since elementary school, whenever things didn’t go as expected, I’d hear a voice in my head saying, "You’re an idiot!" or "You’re such a fool!" I don’t know where this habit came from. Even though I did well in a score-driven environment, these negative self-talks became more frequent. They made me stop before I even really got started, and each failure only made the inner critic louder.

Alongside this self-deprecation came another habit—blame. Maybe because it hurt too much to constantly lash out at myself, I began to act like a victim. By blaming others or external circumstances for my failures, I could deflect the internal criticism. But while the guilt lessened, I was left with a sense of helplessness and a burning anger, like a wounded hedgehog with its quills raised in defense.

Breaking this vicious cycle isn’t easy. The power of the subconscious is much stronger than mere willpower. Just like trying to contain a flood, you can’t block it completely—you have to guide it elsewhere.

After decades of struggling, I’ve found two helpful ways to interrupt that voice inside:

1. "Thank you for giving me..." When it feels difficult, I focus on simple things, like life itself, the ability to see, my wonderful children, or the peacefulness of the morning.
2. "This is my choice, and I will take responsibility. Now I can choose..." I reclaim my power, shifting from victim to someone in control of my life. When this feels hard, I pick small, achievable actions, like exercising, writing things down, taking out the trash, or doing the laundry.

This is a practice I continue every day. Life isn’t always perfect, but there’s always something to be grateful for. And in every moment, we can choose how to face what comes next.

Son, you’re growing up so fast, almost as tall as me now. I wanted to share this part of myself with you, hoping it gives you strength and comfort.

Love,

Dad