THE BOY OF TWO WORLDS A First-Person Healing Narrative for Daily Retyping Prologue — Before the World Touched Me Before I knew fear, before pressure lived in my chest, before I understood disappointment, I found a world that felt like home. It was inside my Nintendo 64. The moment Super Mario appeared on the screen, something in me lit up. In that world, I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t being watched or judged. I was alive, curious, intuitive, powerful. I didn’t fully understand it then, but that console was more than a game to me. It was the doorway into my true self. It was the first place I felt safe and the first place I felt capable. I didn’t know the world would eventually try to take that from me. But even when it did, the part of me awakened by that little grey console never died. Chapter 1 — I Was a Boy With a Bright Inner World Growing up, my mind didn’t move in straight lines. I wasn’t built for the rigid structure of the classroom. I was built for curiosity, creativity, and intuition. I could drive at 12. I could build things. I could see patterns others couldn’t. I could feel people’s energy without them speaking. I danced effortlessly. I observed everything. But the world around me didn’t understand a mind like mine. Instead of being celebrated, my gifts were misunderstood as distraction, disobedience, lack of seriousness, and not being “focused.” So I learned to hide. I learned to pretend. I learned to be small. And when my father punished me by taking away the one thing that made me feel alive—my N64—a story imprinted on my soul: “My joy is unacceptable. My creativity is dangerous. My true self must be hidden.” But even then, something inside me knew this wasn’t the end of who I was. It was only the beginning of who I was becoming. Chapter 2 — The World Outside Became Terrifying While my inner world was shrinking, the outer world erupted into violence. I saw hatred. I saw mobs. I saw weapons. I saw buildings burn. I heard gunshots all night. I saw people die. I saw my mother cry. My childhood was shaped by survival. That kind of fear does something to the brain. It sharpens intuition. It deepens perception. It stretches the soul. My fear turned into awareness. My awareness turned into sensitivity. My sensitivity turned into intuition. I became a child who could feel things before they happened. Not because I was special, but because I had to survive. And in the middle of that chaos, a quiet voice inside me said: “You are protected. Your story isn’t done yet.” Chapter 3 — My Father’s Shadow My father was a man of intensity—brilliant, hardworking, disciplined, and deeply wounded. I admired him. I feared him. I wanted to make him proud. I wanted to escape his line of sight. When he punished me harshly, I internalized the pain as failure. I began to believe: If I were better, he wouldn’t be angry. If I were smarter, he would love me gently. If I performed well, maybe I would finally be enough. Every lash, every shout, every moment of silence etched itself into my nervous system. And when he took away my N64 for “bad reports,” I didn’t just lose a game. I lost the safest version of myself. Years later, when he fell sick and died, I felt a deep, unspoken guilt: “I should have saved him. I should have done more.” But now I know the truth: I was a child. His fate was not mine to carry. His wounds were not mine to heal. His death was not my failure. I can finally release that burden. Chapter 4 — My Journey Into a New World I grew up, moved away, and rebuilt my life piece by piece. I became disciplined. I became structured. I became capable. I became reliable. I became successful. But inside, I felt empty. I achieved everything I was “supposed” to achieve, yet I felt like something was missing. I learned to survive, but I didn’t know how to live. I became the strong one for everyone, but no one was strong for me. I was praised for my stability, but underneath was a child holding his breath. Somewhere along the way, I lost the inner world that once kept me alive. But destiny has a strange way of circling back. The inner child began knocking again. Chapter 5 — The Pattern I Kept Repeating In relationships, I unconsciously replayed my childhood. I attracted instability because I was trained to stabilize others. I attracted chaos because my nervous system was shaped by chaos. I attracted the emotionally wounded because I was taught to heal what hurt me. I gave more than I received. I adapted more than I expressed. I held others while no one held me. I became the fixer, the anchor, the protector. But love is not rescue. And I am not responsible for saving anyone. Breaking this pattern didn’t come from a breakup. It came from finally seeing myself clearly. I am not here to fix broken people. I am here to be whole. Chapter 6 — Finding My Way Back to Myself At 35, something awakened in me. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a quiet remembering. I remembered the boy who felt alive in front of a glowing screen. I remembered the curiosity. I remembered the imagination. I remembered the intuition. I realized the world didn’t kill that part of me. I simply left him behind. So I reached for him. And he reached back. Now I understand: My creativity is not a distraction; it is brilliance. My intuition is not a threat; it is my compass. My sensitivity is not a weakness; it is my superpower. My joy is not dangerous; it is my purpose. My true identity was never lost. It was waiting for me to return. Chapter 7 — I Choose a New Destiny I now walk with two worlds inside me: the disciplined man and the intuitive child. Together, they make me whole. I write this story each day to honor the journey that shaped me and the future I am stepping into. From now on: I choose myself. I trust my intuition. I reclaim my joy. I follow my inner voice. I build the life that was meant for me. I become the man my childhood needed. I am not merely surviving anymore. I am becoming. Daily Affirmation “The boy who lost his world has grown into the man who creates new ones. I am whole. I am guided. I am becoming.”