I know what it feels like to walk through life holding your breath.

For most of my adult life, I looked like I had it all together. I started building a small chain of convenience stores and car washes in Ohio at nineteen. My work ethic was relentless and eventually it paid off — I retired young. By any measure I could see, I had made it.

And I still had to drink myself to sleep every night because my mind and my body were overstimulated and I didn’t know how to relax or turn either one of them off. I was keeping everything in because I didn’t want to bother anyone. I wasn’t really sure I deserved to ask.

In 2020, my world came apart. I lost a business I had poured eight years into. More painfully, I lost a forty-year friendship that was the foundation of it. And I had no idea why any of it hurt the way it did.

Around that time, my best friend said something to me that I was not ready to hear.
‘I don’t think you like drama,’ she said. ‘I think you’ve had a lot of trauma.’
I had to google the word. Trauma was for other people. I had a roof over my head. I was a survivor. But something about those words cracked open a door I could not close.

So I called a therapist. And in our first session, she introduced me to something I had never heard of: the Inner Child.

I am also a gay man. Which means I learned early that there are parts of yourself you’re told to keep quiet — parts that, if you let them show, might cost you everything. I know what it is to perform. To armour up. To give the world the version of you that feels safe, while the real one stays hidden. That wound I understand from the inside.

No one had ever been harder on me than me. No one had said more negative things to me than I had said to myself.

What I have come to understand, after therapy, DBT, meditation, retreats, plant medicine, and a lot of sitting in the uncomfortable quiet, is that the version of me who chased success and called it happiness — who looked like he had it together while something inside was breaking — was not broken. He was a little boy who never felt safe. He had learned to protect himself the only way he knew how.
That was not who he was. That was what happened to him.

I know what it feels like to walk through life holding your breath.

And I'll tell you what nobody told me: it doesn't just get better. It gets joyful. Life is supposed to feel good — and I am living proof that it does.

I am Andrew Mychal. I spent most of my life hiding in plain sight, waiting for permission to finally be myself. Now I share everything — my story, my scars, and what has actually worked — so that you do not have to wait as long as I did.

The door was always unlocked. I just needed someone to tell me.

What I found, through all of it, was that I had 3 parts of myself I had never been properly introduced to.

The Inner Child who carried every wound from before I was old enough to understand.

The Adaptive Child I built to protect him — my superhero. Strong, protective, relentless, loving in the only way he knew how.

And the Wise Adult who had been patiently waiting in the back seat to take the wheel.

The Adaptive Child had been driving my bus. He was good at it. He just had no idea where we were supposed to be going.

When I finally understood that, I remember laughing — actually laughing — because it all made so much sense. Of course he'd been driving. He thought he was protecting me. He didn't know I was ready to take the wheel.

Here is what I want you to know: there is nothing wrong with you. There are things that happened to you that changed the trajectory of your life — that made you go inward, that allowed your Adaptive Child to step up and protect your Inner Child. We now have the opportunity to speak to all three parts of ourselves. To go back to the beginning and teach each part what love looks like, what compassion looks like, what kindness looks like.

The true definition of success is joy. Life is supposed to feel good. Less hustle, more play.

I know what it feels like to walk through life holding your breath.

I am not a doctor. I am not a licensed therapist. What I am is someone who has been through real pain, found real tools, and shares them honestly.

I practice everything I ask you to try. Before every important conversation, I meditate. I speak from my spirit and listen from my soul.

What qualifies me is not a credential. It is vulnerability. It is owning, acknowledging, and taking responsibility for my past. Not just knowing the work. Living it.

You always had the power to choose. The door was always unlocked. Together, we'll walk through it.

Joy is the truest measure of success.

That is the whole vision — to reach as many people as possible through Inner Child work, the practice of gratitude, meditation, and retreats, and to show them that life is supposed to feel good.

The four questions I come back to every single day — and the ones I'll eventually ask you:

  • Who am I?
  • What do I want?
  • What is my purpose?
  • What am I grateful for?

All the answers you're looking for are already inside you. The work is learning to hear them.

Every person who does this and then shows up differently for the people around them — that is how it spreads.

It is already spreading. Those who have come through the retreats go home and show up differently for their partners, their children, their colleagues. The work doesn't stay with one person. It ripples.

You've always been the conductor of your own symphony. I'm just here to help you remember that.

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Paul Conklin
"It's one thing to meet somebody who can talk the talk but doesn't walk the talk — Andrew is a true example of somebody who talks the talk and walks the talk."
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