All About You FRIDAY – A Walk to Remember

“I was wondering if you had time to be a life coach,” a former student texted me this week. She was worried about a young man in her life. He had just graduated from college and lacked direction. He was in constant conflict with his dad. He was frustrated and frustrating those around him. He had refused therapy, but when my student suggested a life coach, he said, “Sign me up.”

Life coach isn’t a title I usually wield. I don’t advertise a service like that and I wasn’t sure what I was getting myself into, but I agreed. We exchanged numbers and I reached out to him, offering up some time in the middle of an already packed day. In less than 10 minutes, he replied, “Tuesday works. Let’s meet at Cranbrook,” he said, “We can walk and talk.”

As I sat on the steps leading up to the art museum waiting for him to arrive, I felt a bit nervous. Would I have the right words? Would he be hard to talk to? What if he didn’t talk at all?

“Sherry!” he said with mild enthusiasm as he rounded the corner a few minutes later. I looked up and saw a tall, slender “kid” with brown wavy hair. He isn’t a kid. He’s 23. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt that he didn’t quite fill out. But he had a kindness in his eyes that I didn’t expect. This hardly looks like a combative person, I thought.

We shook hands and started walking.

“So, you’re a life coach?” he asked.

“Mostly, I’m just an older person with lots of life experience,” I said. I told him a bit about my background and then I congratulated him on his recent college degree.

“Thanks,” he said. “How much do you know about me?” he asked, wondering what I had been told.

“Nothing at all,” I replied.

He took a deep breath and started talking. He first told me about studying writing in school. He loves to write poetry and songs. He plays guitar. He didn’t feel his education had served him well. “I have written a novel,” he said, “But I just really want someone to tell me what they really think of it. I feel like in school nobody would say anything bad. I just really wanted to know what someone thought.”

He shared some song lyrics he had written and I said, “You need to finish that song.”

“It’s done,” he said.

“I’d like to hear it one day,” I replied.

After a few minutes he said, “Do I have to stick to life coaching stuff or can I tell you about my family?”

I told him he could talk about whatever he wanted. And that launched a conversation I will never forget. He described his dad as a strong, man’s man. “I try to be manly,” he said, “but every time he tells me to man-up I feel like I’ve failed.”

He described a recent conversation with his dad where he blew up. “I take responsibility for my actions,” he said, but he felt like in every conversation little jabs at him frustrated him, even if they were said in passing. And then he added, “When my dad’s girlfriend said one nice thing to me, it released the pressure I felt building inside. It’s all I needed.” His tone was almost pleading.

I remember reading a book For Women Only by Shaunti Feldhahn were she wrote about her findings in interviewing 1,000 men. I learned something that has stuck with me for years: The worst thing you can do to a man is ridicule him in front of others. Even if it is jokingly. The man can be the smartest, richest and most accomplished guy in the room, but if you say something like, “Yeah, but my husband knows nothing about fixing a car.” That is like sticking a knife in his gut. Even if your joking.

Respect ranked higher in need for men than love. It is hard-wired into them. And this conversation was proving that to be fact.

As we walked and talked, I began to realize he had life and human nature more figured out than he thought. He said things like:

“I try to bring my best self to a conversation, but then shouldn’t everyone else be expected to do the same?”

“They say I should hang out with my friends more, but I feel like guys sometimes get stuck in middle school. The way we talk and the things we do, I wonder if I would choose to do these things if they weren’t my friends?”

“I wish I was one of those people that were just confident in a crowd. But sometimes when there are too many people in a room, I just want to leave,” he said.

“That just means your introverted,” I said. Nothing wrong with that. I am an introvert, believe it or not.

We talked for over an hour and at one point he said, “I feel like I’m doing all the venting. You can vent to me too if you want.” I smiled at his compassion.

I wish I could remember all of the pearls of wisdom I heard that day. Because they didn’t come out of my mouth. This twenty-something guy who his family found frustrating was a gem of a human being. I could have listened to him for hours.

“One day, you are going to realize that maybe in your family you are the one that has it all figured out,” I said. “Sometimes what others say to you is a defense mechanism for what they are going through. Learning how to navigate that will be the best lesson you can learn.”

I wonder how many more of him there are out there. The intelligent, introverted, creative young people who the world has misunderstood and in turn has buried the gifts they have to offer. They want to know the truth. They want to contribute to this world. They don’t fit into a mold. They just want to be heard. And a compliment from the heart goes a long way in breaking down a wall.

He wanted to pay me. I refused. I felt like I owed him. Our time together filled my heart with so much joy. He will succeed. He isn’t a loser. He is more than okay. And if we can figure out how to let him know that now and again, he will gift this world with his talents for many years.

Remember my friend Gail who is releasing her latest record at the age of 79? Her new song, Learning How to Fly, is dropping today and now I can officially share the video we produced with you. I hope you pass it along to all you know. It had an early release to the college radio stations this week and ranked #15 in downloads for all newly released songs. That’s saying something.

By the way, Gail has already agreed to record this young man’s first song. I will be in the studio watching it happen. I can’t wait.

It’s been a long week. Don’t forget to celebrate. Maybe even take a walk with a young person and hear them out. I promise you won’t be sorry.

Until next time…