Jeffrey can now close his eyes for a moment, breathe deeply, remind himself that, in his fifties, he is too old to be abandoned. He might imagine himself encircling that internal eight-year-old with his adult wisdom, nourishment, and love. “I am enough and I matter,” he might repeat to himself, quieting his rising panic. “Whether I am accepted or rejected, right now, the person whose job it is to cherish me is me.”
