It’s Okay To Say “I Love You”

Last week, I talked about moments in my life that have defined who I am as a person and how I live my life. As you may have now realized, Great Things Take Time is not about quick fitness tips and recipes for success, it’s about unpacking what makes us who we are so we can grow into the greatest versions of ourselves. This week, I want to share the influential male relationships of childhood and early adulthood. People who I love so deeply, I never felt guilty saying “I love you.”

If you need something a bit lighter and haven’t already checked out Monday’s content, you can do so here. But if you’re ready to dive in, make sure you stick around for the end for Moments With Maurice.

So much of who I am is centered around my grandmother—a vibrant and opinionated woman. It’s only natural that with influential events come influential people. 

Like any young boy, there were shenanigans in the first half of my life that I couldn’t have experienced alone. It takes more than one person to hang me by my ankles, upside down, off the side of my grandmother’s apartment, and I certainly wasn’t alone when I learned I could make toy money by racing grown men.

Growing up, both my dad and friends shared many qualities. They were all good men who cared deeply about their loved ones. Warm and welcoming, unafraid to hug each other, they could joke around and find the good in every situation. This lasted until someone said something negative to the people they cared about. Then they’d turn vicious. They wanted to take care of anyone who was their friend, but that came with the other side.

“Do not mess with my loved ones.” 

From Boys to Men

Because of our deep bond, it only made sense that my friends and I spent so much time together as boys; now it’s time for you to meet them.

I have been friends with Mike and Taso since kindergarten at age six. Anastasios (Taso) is one of the funniest guys I have ever known, and Mike was the link to our expanding group. Through Mike, I met Nick, Atlantic, Mentor, Louie (Mentor’s self-proclaimed ‘son’), Big George, and Little George (there was a reason we called them that). 

We did everything together as kids, and that continued into adulthood, staying out all night and partying at the Greek Clubs in Astoria. For a period of time, we even had a hub where we all spent time in The Bronx. George lived two doors down, and Mike lived next to me, able to jump between apartments via the terraces. 

A huge part of what kept us close was the honesty that permeated the group. We cared about each other’s feelings, but we kept each other accountable. There was a beauty in the ability to speak to the problems or the missteps versus avoiding them and speaking around them, only able to act as hype-men for each other. I learned how to acknowledge the fuck-up and turn it into something positive. To own the mistake. 

Because of the foundation of our brotherhood, honesty and accountability have always weighed heavily in all types of relationships, far more than time spent together in person. There’s a safe space created when you call each other out. Knowing your friend only verbalizes the worst parts of yourself in hopes of making you a better person makes you never question their loyalty, integrity, and love. Something I don’t feel is talked about enough in male friendships.

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