This is my journal entry from December 4, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
Today I had my friend a friend over to record her book, and it was incredible to watch her finish the entire thing by dictating the final chapter in one go. There’s something deeply satisfying about witnessing that moment when someone realizes they’re actually done. We talked afterward, and I told her I was seriously considering living in Tampa. Based on her own experience, she said she’d recommend I stay in St. Petersburg instead. She also mentioned that a life coach she knows—who had moved away and had been dating someone—is breaking up with that guy and coming back to St. Pete. I’ve worked with her before in a life coaching context, and hearing that immediately lit something up in me. I’m genuinely excited to see her again, in whatever form that takes.
As soon as a friend left, I reached out to the life coach and invited her over to schedule time to record her book with me. She responded quickly and said she’s coming over next Wednesday. I’m really looking forward to seeing her. Maybe there’s a chance to date her, maybe there isn’t, but just knowing there’s a real possibility feels good. I’m open to it without being attached to any outcome, and that’s a nice place to be.
Later in the day, I talked with my friend Joe Parys on Zoom. We were both YouTubers at the same time, and I coached him a lot back then. It was the first time we’d talked in months, so we had plenty to catch up on. It was genuinely good to hear how he’s doing, and also interesting—though not surprising—to hear how consistent his struggles have been over the years as a crypto YouTuber. The main advice I offered him centered on something I’ve seen come up repeatedly in his life. He often tries to build business systems based on what he sees other people doing from the outside. Where he’s succeeded is when he’s built systems we’ve talked through together—systems I’ve already run successfully myself. Where he struggles is when he tries to replicate models without ever speaking directly to the people actually running them.
That gap between appearance and reality is brutal. What you see on the outside of someone’s business—or life—can be wildly different from what’s actually happening behind the scenes. That’s why you have to talk to people. I told Joe that if he wants to sell a $4,000 online course modeled after someone else’s, he needs to actually talk to that person. Ask every question. Have them tear his offer apart. Without all the details aligned, the whole thing just won’t work. And that’s true far beyond business. Money, health, dating, careers—if even one key detail is off, you might get zero results. But once everything clicks into place, it’s like crossing a critical mass. Suddenly things don’t just work—they work spectacularly. Catching up with Joe was grounding and reassuring in its own way.
I also dropped the kids off at school this morning, which was nice. I said goodbye to my daughter, knowing she’s heading out of town with her grandparents tomorrow. I won’t see her again tonight, so that goodbye carried a little extra weight. Still, it felt like a full, meaningful day—one of those days where everything important is moving forward, even if nothing is fully settled yet.
I went straight to my 444 AA meeting after talking with Joe and stayed for a while afterward. From there, I headed over to the tennis club to do the coaching clinic, since I still have about a month left on my membership. I talked with a few of the guys there, and honestly, the session itself felt a little flat while we were actually playing. Nothing special. But afterward, something unexpected and genuinely important happened. I ended up talking with one of my friends from the tennis club—someone I’ve played with on and off for about a year—and we talked for two and a half hours.
Most of the day, my mind had been wrapped around this South Tampa house—whether I’d get it, whether I wanted it, what it would mean. In that single two-and-a-half-hour conversation, he basically said everything I needed to hear. His point, boiled down, was simple and brutal: if you move to South Tampa, you might as well move to Michigan. In practical terms, it creates almost the same level of distance between me and my kids, my mom, and my ex. The traffic alone makes it punishing. Even if there’s no traffic, you’re looking at about thirty minutes one way from that house just to do school drop-offs. And if traffic doesn’t cooperate—which it often doesn’t—you could be looking at forty-five minutes to an hour, suddenly and unpredictably. That means you’d have to leave earlier just to buffer against it, turning something simple into an hour and a half or even two-hour ordeal. That sounds like a nightmare.
He also pointed out that in Tampa, you end up driving everywhere, and the traffic is insane even at random times of the day. I’d already seen that myself when I visited the house. Turning left onto Westshore Boulevard toward the Gandy Bridge—two curves in the road, traffic constantly coming or stopping in one direction or the other—took nearly five minutes. I remember sitting there thinking how grateful I was that the person behind me didn’t start honking. Voluntarily signing up for that as a daily reality suddenly sounded absurd. His argument landed hard: if I’m going to deal with that kind of separation and inconvenience to be near my family, I might as well move to Michigan, save money, and actually be near them instead of stuck in traffic half my life.
I was honestly shocked by how much clarity came out of that one conversation. In a couple of hours, he completely shifted my perspective on South Tampa. I felt sad about it too. I’d already applied for the house, and now I’m facing the possibility that I might get approved and then have to tell the owner I’m not going to take it. At the same time, one of the dumbest things I could do would be to relocate to South Tampa and end up miserable there. I’m starting to see that it might be too much to burn my life to the ground all at once.
If my ex-wife and the kids were coming with me to Michigan, that would be a different story. Restarting AA meetings, yoga studios, and routines in a new place could actually feel clean and hopeful. But that’s not the situation. I’m already losing the bulk of the relationship with my ex-wife. We’ll still co-parent and be friendly, but the time, energy, and intimacy of our marriage are gone. That loss has left a massive hole in my life. Given that reality, it’s starting to look like a really bad idea to burn down everything else too. I can see how easily I could end up lonely and unstable if I did that.
Yes, South Tampa might offer novelty—new people, new places, a fresh environment. That can feel invigorating at first. But I can also picture myself lying in bed there at night, feeling like I completely fucked up by torching my remaining connections and starting over in a place where I don’t actually know anyone. That image is sobering, and I’m finally willing to take it seriously.
I’m deeply grateful for that conversation with my friend. We covered a lot of ground, including some very specific, practical topics—including frank advice about physical intimacy I’d never explored before. I appreciated him being that open and generous with his experience, and I’m honestly looking forward to exploring that when the opportunity comes up. It’s funny, though. At the beginning of the conversation, once I realized where he was headed—and that what he was about to say was going to completely dismantle my South Tampa plans—I felt an immediate resistance. I didn’t want to hear it. I recognized that reaction instantly.
I see this all the time in people. The moment someone senses that new information is going to force them to rethink something important, a lot of us shut down. We cover our ears, change the subject, leave the room, or mentally check out. Anything to avoid letting reality interfere with the story we’ve already committed to. I felt that same resistance listening to Metabolic Freedom earlier, and yet that book ended up being incredibly useful. This conversation tonight at the tennis club—probably one of the funniest and most unexpectedly profound conversations that parking lot has hosted in a while—did the same thing. It gave me clarity.
By the end of it, I knew what I needed to do. I need to find a balance. I want to stay close to the kids’ school and reasonably close to my mom’s house and my ex-wife’s house so I can remain actively involved and stable. At the same time, I do need a fresh start. I want to get out of the immediate neighborhood orbit that my ex-wife, my mom, and her family are all in without moving so far away that I isolate myself. My friend strongly recommended downtown St. Petersburg. He said it would be the best place for me to reinvent my life while still being close to my kids, my ex-wife, and my mom. That recommendation landed cleanly.
I’m incredibly grateful that I’m good at letting life give me feedback like this—through conversations, books, and real experiences—instead of trying to brute-force everything on my own. As I walked home after our talk, I felt genuinely excited to tell my ex-wife, the kids, and my mom that I’d decided to stay in St. Petersburg. While everyone had been supportive of the South Tampa idea, nobody seemed truly excited about it. They were more supportive of Tampa than Michigan, sure, but that’s a low bar. Staying in St. Pete feels like relief, not compromise.
On the way home, I stopped by my mom’s house. She was visibly happy to hear that I wouldn’t be moving farther away. She was tired, so we kept it short, but the warmth in that exchange mattered. After that, I went back to my place and started looking at apartments in downtown St. Petersburg. And wow—if you want something newer and nicer, you’re easily looking at a couple thousand dollars a month for a studio or one-bedroom. There are cheaper places in the $1,000 to $1,500 range, but they’re pretty rough. And if I’m going to live somewhere shitty, that kind of defeats the entire purpose of staying here in the first place.
Still, I’m excited. It feels like the right direction, even if the details aren’t clear yet. I’ll dig into it much more seriously tomorrow.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.