This morning’s journaling session took me somewhere I never expected. I sat down, as I do most days, without much of a plan—just my tea, my notes app, and an open mind. Journaling has become a practice that grounds me. Whether I wake up with racing thoughts or a clear mind, it helps me find balance and focus. Sometimes, I also use 852 Hz frequencies in the background, which I’ve found really set the tone and help me get into the right state.
Today, I pulled a reflection card. It invited me to let all perspectives flow, to allow them to rise and fall, to feel them in my body, and to accept what was revealed. Then it asked: Who would I be without this story?
That question lingered, and I let it sit. But as I continued journaling, a prompt came to mind: If you could go back in time, what’s the one thing you would change?
Without thinking too much about it, I started writing directly to my younger self—the version of me from around seven years old. That version of me was so free, so curious, so adventurous. I hadn’t connected with him in so long, but there he was, as clear as day.
I wrote: "I’m sorry."
I apologized for muting him for so long, for letting fear and outside voices block our connection to the light. I told him how much I missed his joy, creativity, and sense of wonder. And then I promised: I’m working my way back to you. I’ll bring the joy, the adventure, and the curiosity back. I’ll make us both proud.
As I wrote, memories of my childhood in Puerto Rico came flooding back. Back home, we called baseball "Pelota", and it was a huge part of my life. My cousins “primos” and I would ride our bikes through town to find a place to play. We’d "borrow" masking tape and newspaper from my uncle’s body shop to make balls and find sticks and scraps of plywood for bats and strike zones.
Those days were pure magic—just kids being kids, creating something out of nothing and enjoying every moment. That version of me felt so alive, so deeply connected to the world.
And then it hit me: I did have an imaginary friend, and IF.
That realization came in part from a movie I watched recently, IF. It’s about imaginary friends, and it got me thinking about my own childhood. At first, I didn’t think I had one. But as I reflected, I realized I did.
My imaginary friend wasn’t just a friend—it was an angel. I named him Angel Gabriel.
It makes so much sense now. My middle name is Gabriel, and my name was originally supposed to be Ángel Gabriel before it was changed to Rey Gabriel. Even as a kid, I must have felt a connection to that name, to the idea of being protected and guided.
Angel Gabriel wasn’t just an imaginary friend. He was a presence, a light, a guardian. Whether you call it God, the universe, or your higher self, it’s all the same from my perspective. As a child, I felt so deeply tapped into that energy.
But somewhere along the way, I lost touch with it. Life got busy, complicated, and noisy. That connection faded, and I muted that part of myself for years.
Reconnecting with my younger self today brought me to tears. I felt Angel Gabriel with me again, like an old friend who had been waiting patiently for me to remember he was there all along.
Sobriety has opened so many doors for me, and this is one of the most beautiful ones. It’s allowed me to reconnect with parts of myself I didn’t even know I had lost, to forgive myself, and to be grateful for the journey.
If I could go back and change one thing, it would be starting this sobriety journey sooner. I would have loved to reconnect with my 7-year-old self earlier, to tap back into that joy and curiosity and sense of adventure. But at the same time, I know everything happens for a reason.
This journaling session also reminded me how powerful it is to connect with different versions of ourselves—the younger self that holds our innocence and wonder, and the older self that carries our wisdom and experience.
If you’re interested in trying this for yourself, here’s an invitation to explore these connections:
Connecting with Your Younger Self
- Think about the age where you felt the most free, curious, or joyful. For me, that’s 7 years old.
- Close your eyes and picture yourself at that age. What were you doing? How did you feel?
- Write a letter to that version of you. What do you want to say? Apologize if needed, celebrate who they were, and reconnect.
Connecting with Your Older Self
- Imagine yourself decades from now, wise and fulfilled. For me, it’s my 96-year-old self.
- Visualize that version of you—the wisdom they’ve gained, the life they’ve lived.
- Ask them for advice. What would they tell you about the decisions you’re making today?
Inviting Both Versions to Speak to Your Present Self
- Now, let your younger and older selves guide you. What do they want you to know?
- Write it down. Let it flow without judgment or overthinking.
This exercise has been a game-changer for me, and I hope it can be for you too.
Sobriety has brought me so many gifts, and one of the greatest is the ability to live in the present while honoring both the past and the future. Today’s journaling session was a reminder of how connected we all are—to ourselves, to the universe, and to each other.
If you’d like to share your experience, I’d love to hear about it. This community is here to support each other on our journeys, whatever they may be.
Thank you for allowing me to share mine with you.
Much Love,
Rey