Learning to Love the Unlovable: A Story of Pain, Patience, and Loving When It Wasn’t Easy

Day 4 of 7 – What I Wish I Knew Sooner

For years, I thought being easygoing was a gift I brought to my relationships.
And in some ways, it was. I let things slide. I didn’t nitpick. I tried to make life feel light.

But looking back, I can see it clearly now:
That “ease” was often a cover for fear.

Fear of being too much.
Fear of conflict.
Fear of what would happen if I said the thing I was really feeling.

So I swallowed it.
Until it leaked out sideways—through silence, distance, or resentment disguised as indifference. Sometimes anger.

I wish I had known then what I know now:
Being kind doesn’t mean being quiet.
And avoiding conflict doesn’t create peace—it just delays the moment you finally have to face it.

Some lessons take years.
One of the longest ones for me was learning how to love my father.

He was difficult. Distant. Often harsh.
We didn’t have the kind of relationship that was easy to talk about. For a long time, I wasn’t sure we had a relationship at all.

But something shifted later in life.
Not because he changed—but because I did.
I began to see the pain behind his sharp edges. I softened. Slowly. And eventually, I found compassion—not all at once, but one layer at a time.

But we didn’t heal through a single conversation or some sweeping, emotional apology.
We healed in real time. Over time.
Through small, awkward moments of presence.
Through sitting beside each other without filling the silence.
Through choosing to stay.

That slow unfolding changed how I see love.
It’s not always poetic. Sometimes it’s quiet, clumsy, and unsure.
But if you keep showing up, it makes room for something real.

That’s part of why I created The Last Letter practice.
Not because I missed my chance to say something to him.
But because I didn’t.
And I want to help other people speak their truth—before it’s too late.

Today’s gift is an invitation:
A quiet space where you can write a letter to someone you love, or once loved, or struggle to love.
It’s guided, gentle, and completely private. You don’t have to send it.
Just write what’s true.

Try The Last Letter practice here:

Tomorrow, I’ll share another practice that shaped the next book —one drawn from The Wounded Healer.
It’s about meeting the pain inside ourselves with the same honesty we offer others. And it might just be the beginning of something deep.

With tenderness,
Andy

See the Cool It! TV Commercial

Signup for the Cool It! pre-launch