From Little Boy Energy to Benevolent King

How I’m Learning to Lead the Scared, Anxious Parts of Me

In January, I went to Austin, TX, for a weekend somatic retreat I knew I needed, but desperately wanted to avoid.

I’ve spent most of my life staying safely inside my comfort zone, building a small, tightly controlled world.

This retreat? It was the opposite. It was a nightmare scenario: a room full of strangers, ambiguous instructions, and the threat of “transformation.”

I tried to make excuses. My girlfriend at the time recommended it, knowing it would help me as a man, but our relationship was not doing well, and I was a nervous ball of energy.

My nervous system hates ambiguity. Control is how I’ve learned to minimize anxiety. So flying to Austin with almost zero information on what to expect felt like walking into a firing squad.

I remember walking into that hotel ballroom, feeling anxious, unsure, and unsafe. 20+ coaches were energetically dancing to blaring music. It was complete overstimulation.

What the hell did I get myself into?

But I knew I had to push past this fear if I was ever going to love fully, have meaningful relationships, and stop living a small life I wasn’t proud of.

Little Boy Energy?

One of the first exercises we did was to break up into small, assigned groups, and we were immediately given a bunch of small notecards and a pen.

The coach of our group would then point at a person in the group and we’d all write down our first impressions of each person in the group and whether we trusted them.

These cards were then given to our coach to hold onto and we were told we would get everyone’s cards about us as we left the experience.

Odd. Whatever. I quickly forgot about this exercise.

The rest of the weekend was a blur, as we did so many activities, nervous system exercises, and challenges that were meant to push us into places we’d never been before.

It was hard. It was frightening. And it was exactly what I needed.

The last day, I remember walking with more purpose, more confidence, and my coach mentioned how much she saw me transform throughout the weekend.

At the end of the day on Sunday, we were given these cards to review while we sat in circles. We had spent the entire weekend with our small groups, so we had connected deeply with these people, learning about their deepest, darkest secrets, the pain that keeps them up at night, and what they struggle with on a day-to-day basis.

That is heavy stuff. We trauma bonded, some would say.

Then we were given the cards to compare how we were leaving with how we’d first shown up.

And then I was hit by a damn cement truck.

These are the actual responses from people in my group. I keep them on my desk and look at them often.

• “Little boy energy”

• “Little boy energy”

• “Little boy energy”

• “Don’t trust”

• “Detached”

• “Unsure”

• “Insecure”

• “Dull, self doubt”

• “Poor self image”

These people who didn’t know a damn thing about me looked at me and judged me. And what is “little boy energy” anyway?

I hadn’t heard the phrase before, so I looked it up. A definition I found online puts it painfully well:

“Little boy energy” in men refers to a pattern of immature behavior, often characterized by a lack of self-trust, hesitation, emotional volatility, and an over-reliance on others for direction or reassurance.”

Ahh, shit.

On that Sunday night, as I was reading these cards, getting angrier and angrier at these people I thought were quick friends, I realized they were absolutely right.

That’s exactly how I had shown up.

They saw right through me.

They saw that I retreated into my body, my shoulders hunched over. They saw my nervous, unsure gaze directed at the floor, avoiding eye contact. They saw me deploy my dry, biting humor to handle my unease with the situation.

That night, they gave me a gift that I won’t soon forget.

I showed up as a 38-year-old little boy scared to be my full self, scared to trust that I could handle any situation, and scared to be uncomfortable because uncomfortable = anxiety and anxiety is terrifying.

What I realized that Sunday night was that there was nothing wrong with the little boy. The problem was that no inner adult was actually leading him.

I have made a shift—one that I’m still working on almost a full year later. I started to cultivate what I call “benevolent king energy,” changing how I show up in this world.

Cultivating Benevolent King Energy

Here is how I would define my version of benevolent king energy:

This is a healthy version of masculinity that is grounded, certain, committed, emotionally intelligent, kind and caring, and operates with a willingness to be vulnerable and take responsibility.

This is very different from the internet alpha male persona that some toxic male influencers like Andrew Tate promote.

Cultivating my benevolent king energy has been quite a process for me. I’m not much of an actor. You’ll know how I feel about you because it will be written on my face and in my tone.

So “fake it till you make it” is a really challenging concept for me to follow.

Sure, I can walk into the grocery store with my chest puffed out, peacocking, telling myself I’m a king.

But if I don’t have the trust in my body that no matter what, I’m that dude and I can handle anything, the first sign of anxiety and those feathers are looking an awful lot like colored construction paper that’s been taped to my ass.

A king who doesn’t love himself will still rule from fear. So for me, benevolent king energy had to start with how I relate to myself.

A few weeks ago, my therapist asked me a question that struck me right through the heart: “Do you love yourself as much as you’ve loved your ex?”

And in that moment, I knew my answer and that answer disappointed me.

I’ve spent so much time running from the anxiety demon, cultivating a life that was safe and predictable, that I’d failed to actually stop and appreciate who I am. I had failed to care for myself the way I wanted to (and often did) care for the ones I loved.

I didn’t realize that choosing safety and comfort was actually giving the anxiety a safe space to continue to grow, all the while feeling embarrassed and weak by my inability to keep that anxiety at bay.

I’m learning to love myself and the journey I’m on. I’m learning to love the anxious, depressed, lonely, and scared parts of me. Because after all, those are all just earlier versions of myself that couldn’t yet handle the situations they were thrown into.

I show myself love now by having conversations with these parts, assuring them that I love them, that they can quiet down now because I’m here to lead. I will keep them safe and we’re working towards building our kingdom.

I am showing up for all the parts of myself that I couldn’t show up for before. And that’s a really empowering feeling.

I can embody benevolent king energy now because I’m doing the work to lead. To be the man that I want to be. To take action I can be proud of.

It shows up in how I talk to myself. In how I take care of my own physical and mental health. And in how I focus on building better, deeper connections with people.

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me to do a hot pilates class with her. Old Andy would’ve said absolutely not and abruptly changed the conversation.

But I thought for a second, checked in with my anxious part, and decided to lead him by showing him we can do tough things. I said yes and proceeded to do one of the hardest workout classes I’ve ever done. (Trust me, it’s no joke)

But you know what? I made it through alive. And I showed my anxious part that I’m leading and we can do new, hard things.

The exciting part is that the more I lead my parts, the more they quiet down — and the more space I have to focus on growth and building a life I can be proud of.

That’s true transformation for me.

My question to you is: Do you know your parts? And how are you showing up for yourself every day?