The "5 A's" - a path to adulthood

Nearly twenty years ago, I was introduced to "The Five A's." A simple but powerful framework in emotional healing: Attention, Acceptance, Appreciation, Affection, and Allowing.

These are the deep emotional nutrients we long for as human beings. It was so touching to me to find this framework, that I spent hours drawing the five A's, journaling with them, and committing to offering them to others.

They are what we all hope to receive from parents, friends, partners, and communities. And sometimes, painfully, they are what we did not receive. Some parents and teachers even accuse children of "just seeking attention" as if that weren't exactly what children need.

Today, I’m reflecting on a journey I’ve been walking: grieving the places where these needs were unmet, forgiving those who couldn’t meet them, and —  even more important than offering them to others — learning to offer them to myself. 

First: Grieving

It’s important to tell the truth: that when attention, acceptance, appreciation, affection, or allowing are missing, it hurts.

It leaves an imprint, a tender place inside that can ache long after the moment has passed. Grieving is not about blaming or clinging to the past. It’s about honoring the truth of what was missing, letting myself feel the sadness, the yearning, and the anger.

I have found that honest grief is a doorway to compassion, both for myself and for others.

Then: Forgiving

Forgiveness is the opposite of excusing harmful behavior. When I forgive, it’s not because what happened was okay.

It’s simply releasing the impossible task I have unconsciously assigned to others — the task of making up for what I missed. It's taking on my adulthood. 

It’s because I am choosing to free myself from holding onto the debt. I’m making room for new life to move in.

Speaking Up

Imagining myself having spoken up in childhood is a next, quiet act of healing.

It doesn’t mean shouting demands or trying to change anyone. It means bringing the full power and wisdom of my adult self into that powerless childhood place, so I can speak up. 

It means going back into those situations of lack, in my imagination, and hearing my own voice saying:

• "I need to feel seen."
• "I need to feel safe to be myself."
• "I need to feel cherished, respected, encouraged."
  

There is something powerful about finding my own voice, even if it’s trembling at first.

It reminds me that my needs matter — not because I am needy, but because I am human.

Letting Go of Looking to Others

The freedom is immense in no longer scanning every relationship, every room, every conversation, hoping, "maybe this time they’ll give me what I missed." It feels solid and trustworthy, and also light and free. 

No one is responsible for filling me up. It’s not that relationships don’t matter — they do, immensely.

As Henry David Thoreau wrote, “I will come to you, my friend, when I no longer need you. Then you will find a palace, not an almshouse.”

That's the paradox - when you're no longer looking, you find that others have glorious riches they're willing to give.

Offering the Five A’s to Myself

This is the most beautiful part of the journey:

• Learning to offer myself attention — really listening to my own heart.
• Learning to offer myself acceptance — even the messy, tender, "unpolished" parts.
  
• Learning to offer myself appreciation — noticing what’s good and beautiful about who I am.
  
• Learning to offer myself affection — kindness in my tone of voice, warmth in how I hold myself.
  
• Learning to offer myself allowing — trusting that I can unfold in my own timing, without pressure or shame.

When I tend to myself this way, the emptiness inside softens. The craving for others to "fix it" fades.

There is still connection, but it comes from fullness rather than from need.

My healing journey has not been a straight line. It’s a spiraling path — sometimes circling back to grief, sometimes revisiting old forgiveness, sometimes strengthening the voice that speaks up for my needs.

But with every step, I am remembering my wholeness.