By Brad B.
I went into the Hoffman Process in early August 2015, about as broken as one could probably be. So broken that, on the surface, no one really noticed. Some even remarked on the first day, “Why are you here? You seem so confident.”
Often the most troubled are the best at hiding it. There was an enormous amount of hatred built up inside of me, even though I loved the world very much. What I hated most was myself. I avoided my own reflection. I was surrounded by the wrong friends and seeking the wrong romantic interests. I was very tenacious. I didn’t think I was worth the ground I walked on. Not a great mentality for a 27-year-old man. In all honesty, at the state I was in, I would not have been surprised if suicide stood on the horizon. I was in immense pain, and a pro at hiding it.
The day I arrived to Hoffman, I was shaking in my boots. I was terrified to change for the better, because my father had shown me what I was worth, and I wasn’t worth changing for the better.
So, was this Process effective for me? I’ll let you decide. Prior to Hoffman I worked as a busser in a diner, making $800 a month, living on the living room floor of a cockroach-ridden studio apartment in Koreatown, which I believe is considered the poorest, most dangerous neighborhood in Los Angeles. Prior to that, I was homeless for three years. I had danced many times with drug and alcohol addiction. I was chasing an ex-girlfriend, true to my father’s form, who wanted nothing to do with me. And, in retrospect, that feeling should have been mutual. Every girl I had ever dated cheated on me. I had friends who only came around when they needed something. I was living in a big city and never more alone.
The day I got back from the Process, I realized there was much change in order. I moved across the country to Washington, DC; got a new job making $2,200 a month, released my first mobile app game, started a nutritional supplement line, took up ballet and tap at a local studio, started painting, auditioned for the lead in a play and booked it, and this weekend I have a date with a woman my Hoffman family would most certainly approve of.
I no longer have ill feelings towards my father, whom I spent much emotional energy on prior to the Process. He lives in Germany, and that’s the only reason I have not approached him in person to say I forgive him. That day will come soon enough. The man I used to cower in fear from now holds no sway at all. We talk on the phone sometimes, and he has little to no interest in me as a person, but that doesn’t affect me anymore because I know what his childhood was like. I’ve spoken to his inner child. Most importantly, I can look in the mirror now and like what I see. I love what I see!
Every single time I reflect on the Hoffman Process, and especially now, I cannot do so without welling up with tears. It’s so incredibly sad to think I functioned the way I did before, trudging through life in the worst set of circumstances – circumstances I created – having zero self worth. I could not have arrived at my true potential without the Hoffman Process. There is absolutely no doubt about that.
“Grateful” does not even remotely represent my level of appreciation. There is no word presently that defines my level of gratitude for the Process. My only hope is to pay it forward, toward others, the community. Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime.
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