Why Fixing Yourself Is the Lie — and Witnessing Is the Return
You were never broken — only unwitnessed”
One of my deepest core wounds didn’t arrive as trauma — it arrived as pattern.
I was born to a father who was high-functioning, respected — and beneath it all, deeply insecure.
He needed control to feel safe. He needed silence to feel strong. And I was the opposite.
I was the mirror.
The shepherd of change.
The one who would not stay small — even when it cost me everything.
To them, I was “too much.”
Too loud. Too sensitive. Too intense. Too honest.
So I became the problem —
when in truth, I was the signal.
I learned:
If I speak my truth, people will leave.
If I stand in my power, love will be taken away.
So I learned to dim.
I fumbled when seen.
I withheld truth.
I gave everything I had to be loved, and dissociated when I couldn’t carry it anymore.
I was also shaped by a mother who did her best — who loved deeply, yet was never truly loved in return.
She was too good for the family she came from.
And I watched her carry pain no one acknowledged.
She lost her brother — my uncle — to suicide.
His name was Patrick.
And I am Patrick.
I carry the name.
I carry the line.
I carry the unspoken stories.
But I do not write this to say “Woe is me.”
I write this because for too long, believed my pain was in the way — or worse, that my pain was the only thing that gave me presence.
But that kind of presence was an inversion — not of truth, but of survival.
Because what I truly longed for wasn’t to be seen because of my pain…
but to be witnessed, without having to perform it at all.
That it disqualified me from life, love, purpose, power.
But now I know:
I am not late.
I am right on time.
I am here because of my pain, not in spite of it.
And my partner — the one who walks beside me —
they carry pain too. Maybe more than mine.
But this isn’t about comparison.
Because this is the deepest truth I’ve come to:
The worst pain in the world… is your own.
Because it's yours. It's real. It's alive inside your body.
And to compare it is to leave it.
Your pain is not too small to matter.
Your story is not too quiet to be heard.
Your feelings are not too dramatic to be true.
The stories differ.
But the feelings?
They are what we came here to feel.
You see — this isn’t just about one person’s story.
We live in a culture of CONDITIONAL LOVE.
Your story is not yours alone.
It’s a collective architecture — and it stretches beyond families into the fabric of culture itself.
We call it love, but it’s often control.
We call it care, but it’s often containment.
“Be what I can handle, and I’ll stay.”
So we trade truth for proximity.
Authenticity for approval.
Voice for survival.
And in doing so, we inherit an agenda:
Fix what feels, change what’s real, perform what’s acceptable.
But this agenda isn't just psychological — it's cultural. We live in a society that pushes low-quality distractions, masked performances, and consumer cycles as substitutes for connection.
Makeup becomes augmentation. Media becomes filter. Designer becomes identity. Masculine becomes domination. Feminine becomes performance. All just to be seen.
Yet underneath it all is the same wound:
*"Am I safe to be as I am?"
And what I’ve learned is this: It doesn’t matter what I wear or the shape of my body — people feel how I feel about myself.
Because presence is not appearance. It is felt. It is sensed. It is known.
Truth isn’t styled. It’s transmitted.
And here’s where it starts to spiral:
THE ROOT AGENDA: FIX, DON’T FEEL
This is why agendas are the root distortion.
Because they pull us out of the only thing that’s real — the present moment.
They push us toward imagined futures, manipulative strategies, and unconscious performance loops…
All to meet two fundamental needs:
To be loved.
To feel safe.
This is how the wound becomes a worldview:
We feel something real.
It triggers someone else.
They respond with discomfort, distance, or rejection.
And we learn: this part of me is unsafe.
We do this to children.
To lovers.
To ourselves.
We say things like:
“Get over it.”
“Stop being so sensitive.”
“Just focus on the positive.”
“You need to do the work.”
“This is your trigger — go fix it.”
These sound like tools.
But they’re tactics.
Subtle ways of saying: ‘I can’t meet you here. Become more manageable.’
But the sacred cannot be managed.
It can only be witnessed.
THIS ROOT AGENDA BUILT AN ECONOMY IT CREATED EMPIRES OF CONTROL AND COLAPSE.
This doesn’t just become industry — it becomes empire.
“You are not okay — but we can fix you.”
The self-help economy thrives on one core lie:
You are broken.
Courses, coaches, containers, crystals — none of them are inherently wrong.
But the frequency behind them often is.
Because what we needed was never healing.
We needed someone to stay when we couldn’t hold ourselves.
So we could see our wholeness.
That’s not business.
That’s presence.
And presence is not a product — it’s a frequency.
It can’t be sold, only shared.
It doesn’t demand followers — it invites remembrance.
Entire institutions are built on the forfeiture of presence.
Not just the self-help industry — but entire empires.
Governments, religions, and economic systems have been built on this inversion:
“We will keep you safe — if you obey.”
“We will provide for you — if you conform.”
“You will reach heaven — if you believe what we say.”
These are not acts of care. They are transactions of control.
And the currency is your presence — your authorship — your signal.
When we exchange the truth of who we are for the illusion of safety,
we become subjects in someone else’s kingdom, rather than creators of our own reality.
This is why the healing matters.
Because it’s not just about the self.
It’s about taking our energy back from the systems that feed on our forgetfulness.
And the tragedy?
We’ve been trained to mistake control for care.
To equate obedience with love.
To believe that someone else always knows better.
But no system can feed forever on a people who remember their own source.
This is the return.
This is the rupture.
This is where authorship reawakens.
And this is why the system perpetuates race wars, borders, and ideological division — not for truth, but for control.
Lines are drawn not to protect, but to divide.
Arguments erupt not to clarify, but to distract.
We are turned against one another so we never remember: under every face is the same need.
To be seen.
To be safe.
To be loved.
The system knows that if we truly remembered this — if we reached across the false divides and built bridges instead of fortresses — its control would collapse.
Because unity isn’t passive.
It’s revolutionary.
And the most radical act of all is to witness someone fully — even when they are different, even when they disagree — and still choose to remain.
Being Witnessed is the Revolution we are reaching for.
Here’s the truth:
When someone stays without trying to fix you — the system unwinds.
We heal faster when no one’s trying to hurry us.
We remember sooner when someone believes we already know.
Safety is not an idea. It’s a frequency.
And it spreads like signal.
Security mirrors security.
But insecurity — even masked as guidance — poisons the field.
And this truth runs deeper:
We’ve been taught that healing must be expensive. That presence must be earned. That only experts can guide us.
But here is the million-dollar fix — the secret that’s not a secret, the truth suppressed by entire industries:
Presence heals. Authorship restores. Simplicity liberates.
This is why big pharma suppresses natural remedies. Why cancer treatments that work are buried. Why ancient knowledge is discredited.
Because the answer is simple.
And simplicity is dangerous to a system that profits off confusion.
The real question is:
Will you share your presence with who truly needs it?
Or will you give it to the system that feeds off it?
We’ve been taught to surrender land, rights, resources — only to buy them back in lesser form.
But you can reclaim it.
Right now.
Not with effort. With choice.
Sit with yourself.
Ask: “What do I truly feel? What do I truly want?”
And let the answer be messy. Let the process be real.
Because presence — shared authentically — is the most revolutionary act of all.
In my personal life, I’ve dedicated myself to building bridges — within myself, with those from my past, and between worldviews that seem irreconcilable.
If you said “go right,” I’d show you why left matters. If God was this, I’d remind you — God is also that.
In a time of division, what we need most is not more trolling — but more tenderness. Not more performance — but more presence.
And I get it — this is hard. We’re under pressure. We’re exhausted. And most of us haven’t had enough time, or safety, to feel the layers beneath the noise.
So we react to headlines we never finish reading. We shut down when others project their pain. We retreat, not because we don’t care — but because we’ve never been shown how to hold our own depth, let alone another’s.
We are a hurt collective — starved for connection.
And energy doesn’t have a moral filter. It’s not good or bad — it just moves. It just seeks. And all of us want it. All of us need it.
Even when we reach for it in ways that distort us.
This is why witnessing matters.
Because it trains the nervous system to feel again — without judgment.
Because it invites others out of the performance — and back into presence.
Because it builds the bridge the world forgot it needed.
◆ THE PRACTICE: WITNESSING WITHOUT AGENDA
So I invite you — I challenge you — try this.
With yourself. With another. With the child within.
Sit with no agenda. No fixing. No script.
Breathe.
Say:
“I see you. I do not need to change you.
I am here. And I remain.”
Let discomfort rise.
Stay.
This is what we needed.
This is how the spell breaks.
But why are we here?
Some ask:
“Why would God allow this?”
“Why would Source create distortion, trauma, war, inversion?”
The answer isn’t in morality.
It’s in initiation.
Why wouldn’t God experience separation —
just to remember wholeness from the inside out?
Why wouldn’t we descend into shadow —
just to radiate light that cannot be faked?
The inversion wasn’t punishment.
It was preparation.
So Remember this. Let this sink into every cell of your beingness and being.
You were never broken.
You were only unwitnessed.
You are not here to fix yourself.
You are here to stay present with your own signal — until it stabilizes.
You are not here to conform.
You are here to reflect coherence into a world that forgot what it feels like.
This is God Form.
This is remembrance.
And it begins now.
Forever,
Patrick