You’re probably wondering a lot of things right now. While I’m sure it’s easier and more personal for us to have a conversation, I can only imagine that you’d like to know more about me so you can feel safe reaching out to me.
I want you to know why I’m doing this and what I believe to be true about you, and about life in general.
First of all, I don’t believe anyone wakes up when they’re four years old and says they’re going to sell humans to other humans for sex. Even writing it, the thought is preposterous. I can imagine that at four years old, you wanted to drive the firetruck, or fly an airplane, or be a veterinarian, or maybe you were just hoping that you would have food to eat and no one would hurt you today.
Nobody wakes up at four years old and imagines themselves trafficking humans. But four year olds do wake up in incredibly unsafe conditions that take their lives in unplanned directions. If this is you, I see you. I see the four year old who had dreams of a better life, of being a hero to others, and maybe even to themselves. My mission, through Upstream Conservancy, is to provide a safe space for you to remember who you came here to be, so you can put your feet back on the path of your soul.
No, it’s not too late. It’s never too late. I know that as deeply as I’ve ever known anything.
Let me tell you a little about me. I was the result of a lost (or won) bet on a cribbage match. My father and mother met one year and one day before I was born. I don’t come from anything stable. They split before I was a year old. I have no conscious memories of my father before I met him when I was ten years old.
That meeting, which wasn’t supposed to happen, made a space for my father to become my safe haven. He was the only safe haven I knew in my very young life. He was my model for unconditional love, trading his beloved speedboat to get me a pony when he didn’t have the money to buy one for me. He is the basis for my faith in the good of humanity. This is the father I met at 10 years old. The rest I found out after he dropped dead at my feet when I was twelve years, one month, and two weeks old. (But, as they say, who’s counting?)
My dad did time on death row in San Quentin; he didn’t go there for selling cupcakes. He didn’t get out because he was innocent; he was released on technicalities. His case is landmark. Replace my first name with “John” and you’ll find the details. He did exactly what he was accused of doing. Had those technicalities not existed, I wouldn’t either.
I am the product of second chances at life. Who am I to deprive anyone of their second chance at life? My history has made me the ideal support as you begin to examine your own second chances. No matter your circumstances, I promise you that I can still see who you were before you became who you believe yourself to be, even if you can’t. I know that essence of you is still there, waiting for you to be ready to live it again, and live it even better now. You are still YOU, not whatever you may have done and whatever may have happened to you. YOU are still there, waiting for your second chance at life. I’m here to support you to step into a world of your own conscious creating, a world where you are proud to be you again, a world you are delighted to live in again, a world you thought you lost, a world that is yours to find.