Here is where I have landed. The work I want to build is the work that fits me: honest writing, one-on-one conversations, building with AI, and things I can still stand behind the next morning. Not the flashy launch, not the rules someone else wrote for my life, and not grinding out videos because a label says that is what I am. Getting here meant walking away from things that looked like success on paper but drained me, and I am still in the middle of it.
The newest piece is the biggest shift yet. On November 1, 2026, in I'm Done Being a YouTuber but What's Next, I released my identity as a YouTuber the same way I once let go of my drinking identity. I filmed about 1,500 videos this year, earned tens of thousands of dollars and racked up more debt than I earned, because "I'm a YouTuber, therefore I grind out videos" put a ceiling on me. So I wrote down every identity I actually have: sober twelve and a half years in AA, coach, public speaker, content creator, builder of a complete AI e-commerce and social platform on ICP with Claude, online advertiser who ran half a billion Facebook ad impressions, musician with 350 songs, author of 35 books, comedian, teacher, parent, plant-based, healthy. The question I am sitting with is how one person with all of that combined earns the most. My best guesses are rebuilding small businesses and creators' platforms on ICP so they stop paying Skool, Udemy, Kajabi and a stack of subscriptions, and spending a month at a time with one wealthy client who wants most of what I know in person. I do not know exactly what that looks like yet, and saying "I'm not sure" is the gateway.
That decision grew straight out of the stream post before it, where I said legitimate hard work is for people who don't see they're being ripped off. In A Landscaper Offered Me $200 a Day. I'd Rather Be Homeless Than Get Skimmed. I explain why I turned down about $200 a day for eight hours on someone else's landscaping crew, and why I would rather be homeless, still playing tennis and seeing my kids, than let anyone skim off me. I could clean houses at $100 an hour too, but plenty of people can do that. Most people can't do what I do, so I take the work uniquely crafted for me.
The short version is that I stopped chasing hustle. For years I measured myself by views, subscribers and sales, assuming the next push would break things open. In January I wrote that I was done chasing and was going all in on the work instead. I should be honest about the money, though. My savings are gone, I have been living on credit while I figure this out, and a personal loan is not easy to get with only a few thousand dollars a month landing in the bank. I still think the direction is right, and the November post is me finally pricing my skills instead of my videos.
The thread goes back further. In my 2024 post for anyone lost in their thirties I argued that the mess of your life is useful material, not a verdict on it. That got tested in September 2025, while I was still in massage school. The ethics rules were so restrictive for the personal practice I had pictured that I felt crushed, which I wrote about in When the Rules Crushed My Vision. I decided to walk away in Walking Away to Make Room for My Real Work. The question of what to build instead is in Building Something That Fits Me, where I was starting an AA meeting from scratch rather than fitting into one that already existed.
In October I got tired of middlemen. A publisher would take most of what a book earns, the same dynamic I had been escaping online. In No More Middlemen I landed on a simpler plan: keep publishing my own books, keep the work local and personal, and offer two hours at my house, one person at a time, for $222. I worked out that one session a day at that price would be enough to afford the house I was moving into. Group events brought too many headaches. I still believe the one-on-one format is where I do some of my best work, and the month-with-one-client idea in the newest post is that same belief scaled up.
Early in November an older friend in his seventies told me he keeps going because he is curious about how each day unfolds. That stopped me. I had quietly decided I knew how everything would turn out, and that belief was poisoning me. I wrote about it in Curiosity Is the Only Reason to Keep Going. About two weeks later, in Busywork Drained the Joy Right Out, I described spending three hours building nine Eventbrite events and feeling worse afterward. Work that lights me up leaves me with energy; busywork drains it.
In January I made the shift that set up everything since. In Done Chasing, All In on the Work I wrote that I was giving up on trying to date with my head and putting my time into the business, the AA meetings and yoga. The letter I had been drafting to hand to strangers went through the same change. An Honest Ask, Not a Pitch covers how I rewrote it from a sales pitch into a plain request for advice, because I am not in a position of strength and a pitch from me would ring false.
The clearest test came in I Could Build That, But I Won't. A friend I have coached for years was looking at cheap courses sold through paid ads. I could see how it might make money; I just do not want to build it. Courses and ad funnels are not where my attention goes. By the statistics I remember, most people who bought my own Udemy courses never watched them, and I would rather sell fewer things I can stand behind than many things nobody finishes.
Read the posts below from the bottom up and you will see the change from a man searching for purpose to one who has picked a few things to say no to and is building around the rest. For the wider picture, my books are my real job now, and the AA side of this runs through my Alcoholics Anonymous guide.
If you are trying to sort which parts of your own work fit you and which are just busywork, you can get a personal video review from me, or schedule a call and we will take inventory of your skills together.
On this page
Every post I have written on this subject is below in full, newest first, each under its own heading.
- I'm Done Being a YouTuber but What's Next (November 1, 2026)
- A Landscaper Offered Me $200 a Day. I'd Rather Be Homeless Than Get Skimmed. (October 17, 2026)
- I Could Build That, But I Won't (January 29, 2026)
- An Honest Ask, Not a Pitch (January 22, 2026)
- Done Chasing, All In on the Work (January 16, 2026)
- Busywork Drained the Joy Right Out (November 21, 2025)
- Getting Brutally Clear on What I Want (November 9, 2025)
- Curiosity Is the Only Reason to Keep Going (November 6, 2025)
- No More Middlemen (October 5, 2025)
- Walking Away to Make Room for My Real Work (September 21, 2025)
- When the Rules Crushed My Vision (September 20, 2025)
- Building Work That Fits You: Why I Stopped Chasing Hustle (September 17, 2025)
- If You're in Your 30s, Lost, and Feel Like You've Achieved Nothing (February 25, 2024)
I'm Done Being a YouTuber but What's Next
From my video published November 1, 2026.
I'm Jerry Banfield, it's November 1st, 2026, and I'm going to do an exercise that I think will be really helpful for you as I do it on myself: taking a look at my identity. I want to make $10,000 plus a month, and I'm grateful that by focusing on being a YouTuber the last few months, I've made several thousand dollars in the last month. But I want to make much more. And I'm thinking today that the way to do that is I need to really take inventory of all the things I can do, and I need to break out of my identity of being a YouTuber.
I've done this in the past with things like, for example, being an alcoholic. Where I see a lot of people being stuck is, one, the identity that you have, and two, how you react to life based on that identity. With me going around saying I'm a YouTuber, it has dramatically limited my dating life, and it also seems to be limiting my income. I know I have skills that are worth a lot, but when I'm like, I'm a YouTuber, therefore I need to film videos, then I'm limiting myself. So I'm going to go through and show you how I expand my consciousness and expand my ideas of what's possible. Then I'm going to dump this whole video into three different AIs, ChatGPT, Gemini, and Claude Fable, and ask all of them what they see based on a thorough inventory of myself, like a Fourth Step and a Tenth Step in AA, done on an ongoing basis. Because there are opportunities that so many of us have that we're just missing because we're locked into tunnel vision. And it's important, if we want to expand, to step back and say, wait a minute, what's possible?
So I'm doing that today. I have this pen that I bought that can write directly on the screen, so I wrote down a list of my identities. And I guarantee you there are ways I can make $10,000, $20,000, $50,000, $100,000 a month with all of the skills I have right here. The question is, what do I need to do about that? How do I adjust my approach and my behavior and my identity toward life to put myself in a position where I can receive lots more money?
Releasing the YouTuber Identity
What I've been doing is saying, I'm a YouTuber, therefore I need to grind out videos. And I've ground out 1,500 videos this year. I've made tens of thousands of dollars, I've got millions of views on YouTube, but I've also racked up a whole lot of debt, because my expenses have been greater than my earnings. I've been down this road before, as I shared in my debt story. The wake-up call for this was that I was looking at personal loans, and it's like, well, you're not going to get a personal loan very easily when you've only got a few thousand dollars a month in deposits going into your bank account. So the solution is to make more money. Yes, you can buy one of my shirts, play my new game, play Top Fan, or get a Cameo from me. But is it realistic to expect I'm going to keep growing to the point where I'm making $10,000, $20,000, $30,000 a month on YouTube? That's certainly possible, but I think there are even better opportunities.
So today I'm releasing my identity as a YouTuber and saying that YouTube is just one thing I do. It's not who I am, it's not my job, it's not my sole identity. I went deeper on how that identity formed in What 14 Years as a YouTuber Taught Me About Intention. What I want to do now is look at what else I could do, and where the best opportunities are for me to take the skills I have and put them into action.
Now, for me, a job is not very practical unless it pays six figures, because I need like 10 grand a month just to pay my bills at this point. Therefore it's not worth my time to even apply to jobs, because I keep getting income on YouTube. So the path forward is to figure out what kind of business I can have, or where I can put myself in a position to be somebody so ultra niche that somebody anywhere in the world wants all of this, and I'm the only place you can get all of this in one person.
And the trick is, it's scary and weird to some degree, because it's like I'm throwing myself into the unknown. I don't know what I don't know. I don't know about all the things that are possible, but I know that I want to expand my mind to get into opportunities that right now are not on my immediate radar.
Services for the Wealthy
One theory I have, based on what I've seen and read, is that one of the best ways to position myself going forward is as someone who provides services, solves problems, and is hard to find anywhere else. And I think this is what I'm trying to do. I'm trying to do things that are available for the rich and the ultra rich, because that's one of the most niche areas in the world. Very few people are able to offer anything besides menial labor. And as the wealth gets more and more concentrated in the world, the people at the top have so much money they literally can't even spend all of it. Then most people can't offer them anything besides basically manual labor. And yet some of the wealthiest people have the weirdest problems and the strangest desires, and they're looking. It's like YouTube: there are billions of videos on YouTube, and yet most days I struggle to find one or two that I want to watch.
Therefore, providing services for the wealthy is to me one of the most probable opportunities I have to make money. Because I'm a very interesting and unusual person. In terms of getting a job and in terms of dating, that is a liability. But when there are people in the world who have huge amounts of money and are bored and can buy anything they want and are looking for something and someone different, looking for inspiration, then that becomes an asset. But I don't know exactly how I'd go about that. So that's just one area of possibility.
So I'm going to go through and look at all the things I could do and I could be and all the things I have to offer. Because here's where I see it if I'm just being a YouTuber, and there's nothing wrong with making money on YouTube videos. Yesterday I filmed seven YouTube videos. And I'm grateful I made a few hundred dollars in sales on my website yesterday. But I probably would have made a few hundred dollars in sales yesterday even if I'd just filmed one or two videos. And yes, if I want to grow on YouTube, then I need to obsess over my analytics, check my stats, try to plan videos, and spend all this time on titles. But if I'm not a YouTuber, I can just film off the top of my head and upload a vlog every day, and maybe do one other video that I'm in the mood to make. And again, not obsess over the title, because it doesn't matter, because that's not how I'm making most of my money.
So I've written down what to me are the essential skills I have. And what's special is having all of these combined in one person. What I'm not sure of is how combining all these into one person monetizes best, or turns into something that, for example, I could present. Or that someone who has lots of money and is looking for something and someone different will look at me and say, all right, I've got to have this guy do this or that for me. So let's look at all this together.
Sober, Coach, Public Speaker
Number one, I'm sober. I've been sober 12 and a half years in Alcoholics Anonymous, and I've written up everything I've learned along the way in my Alcoholics Anonymous guide. I already go to AA meetings, I already sponsor. And with just this one thing, being sober, I could work at treatment centers. There are lots of opportunities. But I personally do not want to put myself into $20, $30, $40 an hour work. I have more potential than that, which sounds kind of like that little tugboat. What was that little tugboat that thought he had all these big dreams? He started in the bathtub, then he went on this adventure, and then he ended up back in the bathtub. Maybe that's me. But you can see how just one single thing like, okay, sober, treatment center, there are all kinds of places I could work in the context of being sober and helping other people get sober. But I know that's not hitting my ceiling. There's stuff I could do that already makes hundreds of dollars an hour. People already pay me by the hour for calls on my website. So if something can't beat what I already make on a call, it's not even worth my time, because I can already sell calls on my website. But I want to make more than that.
Next, coach. I can coach people in all different contexts, from sobriety to content creation to e-commerce. Everything on this list I could coach, maybe not comedian. I don't know that I'd coach somebody in terms of being a comedian. But almost everything else, I could coach based on all of these other skills. So I could use the skills themselves, like staying sober myself, and I could help other people with staying sober.
I'm a great public speaker. I have a strong stage presence from practicing for all this time on videos. When I get up on stage, I talk straight off the top of my head. I don't need and I don't even like having prepared scripts and all that stuff. I get up there and I speak from the heart. I captivate audiences. And this skill alone, being a public speaker, is something I could have a whole career on just by itself. Literally one person could find me and be like, this guy, I've got to have this guy speak at my events. And from there, I could start speaking all over the place. I have a very strong stage presence, and I can customize what I'm saying to exactly what the audience needs to hear. That's an extremely valuable skill.
Content creator. This skill is not so valuable these days when everybody's putting up their videos. And what I'm seeing is I've kind of stuck myself into this lane of content creator, and this is limiting me when I have all this other stuff that I can do. This content creator skill is probably not the most valuable skill I have, unless I want to try to feed the matrix and say whatever I'm supposed to say and do whatever I'm supposed to do, which I don't do my best at.
E-commerce. Now, this is a skill where most people don't even realize the huge opportunities. And this one is a bit early. I've built out a full-on AI e-commerce and social platform on the Internet Computer Protocol (ICP) with AI, and I've got my own games directly on there. I walked through exactly how I did it in how I built my website on ICP with AI.
This is so far advanced compared to what a lot of people have done. I've built out a full-on AI e-commerce platform when a lot of people don't even realize they want this yet. And I suspect there's some very valuable work I could do with this skill. I'm just not sure how to go about it.
Now, if you have any suggestions for me, you can obviously go schedule a call with me or request a video. Probably the cheapest way to get my attention is just to buy one of my books, or buy one of the small items on my website, and then you can direct message me there. I read all of those. I also have a free contact form at the bottom of the page. I don't usually respond to that, though, but I do usually read them. Unless somebody's toxic, then I'll ban them and I won't read their form anymore.
AI E-Commerce on ICP With Claude
So AI e-commerce, to me, this is an area where, for example, I could go into a small business and say, you're wasting thousands of dollars a month on your hosting and subscription services. I could use Claude Fable and ICP to rebuild your entire infrastructure, your website and your apps and your services. I could rebuild all of that from the ground up. You could probably fire somebody who's doing wasteful work, and you could probably drop thousands of dollars a month from all these services you're paying for. If you rebuild all of it with Claude on one single platform, you're going to cut so many different expenses and liabilities that you're going to be able to run your business much more efficiently.
So this is the one I'm looking at, because hardly anybody has used Claude Fable. I'm probably one of the few people in the world who has used Claude Fable to build a website that has full-on e-commerce and payments, that has games, that has a blog, that has an entire business built on it, and who has then actually sold a bunch of different stuff off of it as well. This is probably one of my skills where I could make $300 plus an hour, because I could save businesses gigantic amounts of money. I could help content creators stop sending people over to Skool, Udemy, Thinkific, Kajabi, Gumroad, and all these other platforms. I could say, look, get everybody on your own website, sell whatever you want to sell. I'll set the command line up for you. I'll rebuild whatever you've got and help you get everybody over here. Here's how much you're going to save. Here's how much you can make. That's a really valuable skill right there, and it's a path I've been on since I wrote about how I sell online courses without ads or Udemy.
For example, if I take on the identity of, I'm an AI e-commerce guy, then my Jerry Banfield for Creators channel becomes important. Then I do videos on that every day talking about AI e-commerce. And I might not even need to get very many views on that, because I could get clients who would spend $10,000, $20,000 potentially. Maybe even fly me out somewhere and have me spend a week or two in person to set everything up, get all of it running, and then pay me on a monthly basis to help them transition over. And especially putting ICP together with this, this is probably a skill that is so early, almost nobody even knows how valuable it is at this point.
So this is why I do this exercise. Lots of times we don't realize it, but most of us have skills we could make a lot of money on. A lot of us have garbaged up our time with work so much, and I'm certainly guilty of this, just grinding out endless YouTube videos to the point where I don't even realize or pay attention to the fact that I have skills worth so much more than grinding out YouTube videos, trying to get views, trying to sell T-shirts, trying to sell calls. I need to get a hold of the people who want an AI e-commerce website. That's something almost nobody can do for you. There are lots of people who could do some basic thing, but you want something advanced. You've got a lot of followers. You want something that could print $100,000 a month selling shirts, games, books, video courses, anything. I can build that for you. I've already built it for myself, and hardly anybody else has done that.
Online Advertising
Next, online advertising. I know how to use Google Ads. I was one of the first people in the world teaching courses on Facebook marketing on Udemy. That's what launched me into being a top 10 Udemy instructor: I had the number one Facebook marketing and advertising course in 2014, 2015, and 2016 on Udemy. That one course made hundreds of thousands of dollars in sales on Udemy, even when online courses were not a big thing. I told the whole arc of that in Udemy Instructor Ban: How I Went From Top 10 to Banned. I've used Google, Facebook, Instagram. I've done so many ads all over the place.
And this is where you see what happens when you combine all this stuff together. I can build an e-commerce website, create content, and do online advertising. Put all of that together, and now I have the high-level skills to make an entire strategy for a business, because I've done all this stuff personally. Then I could be a project manager, for example, or a chief marketing officer or chief operations officer. I can see from a high level how to put all this stuff together and in what order to do it. I've run some Google Ads this year for myself, and YouTube ads as well. And Facebook ads, I've run a half billion impressions on Facebook ads, mostly for my own stuff. I ran some for clients, but mostly for myself. That's how I got millions of followers and a verified Facebook page.
Dating, Music, Health, Tennis, ICP
When it comes to dating, I've been out with 26 women in 2026, and I've had around 50 dates with different women. And you see how putting all this stuff together starts to get crazy. You can see how some ultra wealthy person might see all this together and be like, okay, I need to just spend a month with this guy. I need to get this guy and spend a month with him, and we're going to go over all this stuff. We're going to talk about my business, AI, e-commerce, content creation. I'm going to have this guy help me get sober and look at my business advertising. I'm single and everyone just wants me for my money, so we'll talk about dating, have fun, make some music together. That's what's so cool, that I've done all this different stuff.
I go to yoga a few times a week, and I've made over 350 songs that are up on YouTube Music. I actually just got a $100 paycheck from my music this month, which was really cool. So I've got music everywhere you listen to music: Amazon, Apple, YouTube, Spotify. It's all just under Jerry Banfield. I'm an entrepreneur. I've built businesses serving clients. I've done so many different random ways to make money online. And this is figuring out, okay, where's my best opportunity right now?
I'm healthy. To me, this is where I picture there's probably somebody who has a lot of money who would like to just spend a month straight with me every day and be like, okay, I'm overweight, show me what you do to stay healthy. I'm not a doctor. It's just, you want to be healthy, and I'm healthy. I've been overweight. I had an identity of being fat, and I hated it and I denied it. But once I realized I'm a fat person, I eat like a fat person, and I think like a fat person, it was like, okay, I don't want to be a fat person anymore. What do I need to do to lose weight and keep that weight off forever? I needed to change my identity. I'm not a fat person. I'm a person who's overeaten. I'm a person who doesn't know how to eat healthy. And when you change your identity from I'm fat to I'm a person who doesn't know how to eat healthy, it's like, okay, let me learn how to eat healthy, and let me learn why I'm eating like this. When I used to drink, I'd drink a bunch of alcohol and then I'd eat, so of course I was fat. That's my own story, not advice, and I shared the whole thing in how I lost 86 pounds forever without dieting. So I could picture someone being like, spend a month with me, help me get into my best health, lose weight, and figure all this other stuff out.
I play tennis. I'm into the Internet Computer Protocol (ICP), which to me is another very valuable, cutting-edge, futuristic tech skill. Not many people in the world are into or understand ICP, and I laid out what ICP is for anyone who wants the basics. This is the only crypto that, to me, matters. And I mean that. Just for one person who has a bunch of money and is like, hey, I've got $5 million to invest, which crypto would it be? Come spend a weekend with me and talk real talk about crypto. It's like, okay, ICP. And then there's a Jerry coin and a JBBJ meme coin. I wouldn't put more than like 10 grand in either of those. But ICP, to me, this is where I have my money after researching thousands of altcoins. Not financial advice, just my opinion.
Comedy, Books, Teaching
I'm a parent as well. And I've done some stand-up comedy before. I'm hesitant to label myself too much as a comedian, but I know how to do comedy. I've done open mics. I've hosted my own stand-up comedy. I've had videos recorded of having the stage to myself just to do stand-up. And I prefer to just work humor naturally into whatever I'm doing and saying rather than be like, okay, joke one, joke two, joke three, joke four. That's not as fun to me. But I love trying to interject random comedy and entertainment. And I've done some comedy specials that I will put up on my website, extremely dark comedy specials, maximum shock value, hilarious. I wish somebody else would do something like this. Anthony Jeselnik, Bill Burr, Louis CK, pretty close, but you can tell they can't quite go all the way there with some of their jokes.
I'm an author. I've written 35 books, including a life story memoir named Un Fn Myself, which somebody just bought a signed copy of yesterday. If you want one, reach me through my website and I'd happily ship a signed copy to you too. I eat plant based. And I'm a teacher. My videos are about teaching. My idea is that I'm teaching how to live an authentic, heartfelt, honest, transparent, open life. And if we want to see some real change on this planet, that's what we need: more heartfelt, open, honest, transparent lives, and a lot less LARPing, lying, cheating, deceiving, and acting like you're an expert on everything. Nobody's an expert. Nobody knows everything. There's so much to know, there are so many things happening, this reality is so deep that at best we know a little bit about a few things.
A Month With Me
These are the things I know about. And I'm sure there's some way to monetize all this that pays very well, probably at least six figures every year. I'm just not sure exactly what that looks like, but the gateway to improving and learning is to start off with, I'm not sure. I don't know. I can imagine somebody who's got lots of money paying me $20,000 or $30,000 for a month to be like, look, I want you to spend a whole month with me. Stay with me all day, every day. We'll go play tennis. We'll do yoga. We're going to talk about dating, health, weight loss, parenting.
I could picture somebody like that because, in my experience, when you get to high levels of money, you generally are the opposite of ignorant. The masses tend to be ignorant and easy to control because of that. And generally the people at the top are corrupt and have sacrificed anything for money. However, not everybody fits in there. Some of the people who have a lot of money are extremely intelligent, and anybody who can teach them anything is worth paying a lot to. Not a lot of money to them, but a lot of money to you. So I could picture there being at least a handful, if not hundreds, of people in the world who would love to just spend an entire month with me and try to absorb all of my teachings, all the things I know about, in person and firsthand. Because it will help them be smarter and make more money.
Imagine somebody like that who's a parent and struggling with their kids, who's in the middle of alcoholism, who's trying to get AI worked into their business. They just got divorced or are struggling in their marriage, they're a bit overweight, they want some laughs, they want their life story preserved, and they want to figure out what they can do with their diet. That kind of person could get an insane amount of value from spending what, from their point of view, is a relatively small amount of money. And I could have a few months a year where I did work like that. That would be enough that I wouldn't even have to do anything else for work. I could just make videos, sell some shirts on my website, spend some time in South Africa with the woman I'm talking to, and parent my kids here in St. Petersburg. I know there are huge opportunities out there for me. I am certain of that.
Who This Is For
And that to me is the starting point. I want you to be certain that there are much bigger opportunities out there for you than you are currently aware of. That's something all of us could be certain of. I would say almost none of us are really reaching our maximum potential in most areas of life. That's why I make my videos, to get you to wonder what else is possible for you, and it's the same reason I made AI Can Make You a Millionaire If You Change How You Think. I know there are amazing possibilities for me, and I can't access them until I open my mind and explore. This is just me exploring in real time.
I imagine, okay, at what level would somebody pay $1,000 an hour for my time? If all of this is possible for me, then I'm going to be successful. If most of these skills, most of these things I can do, were meaningful to one person, if one person really wanted most of these, then that would be worth it to them. So I'm interested to see who that is and how that would come about. But it can't come about if my mind is just, I'm a YouTuber, grind out videos. I'm a YouTuber, grind out videos. Because then I'm not capitalizing on the full depth of the skills I have. I called that trap out in The Content Creator Delusion, and if you're a creator stuck in the same loop, my Content Creators playlist has everything I've learned about getting out of it.
There are people who have lots of money, probably at least 10, if not hundreds, who would just be like, look, I'm so tired of struggling with my weight and being unhealthy and my drinking. Just come spend a month with me. Keep me accountable. Talk to me about this stuff. Show me the books you've read, and we'll read some of them. We'll hang out, have fun, make some jokes, record my life story while we're at it, play around, make some music. Just some of these things by themselves, people have struggled so hard with, and yet lots of times you don't even know anybody you'd trust to bring in to help with that.
Or maybe I end up at a company somewhere and it's, okay, we want you to help us save $100,000 a month. How exactly would you recommend we do that? Here's what we're doing. And I could go in and be like, look, you're wasting a ton of money on your website. This could all be rebuilt on an ICP cloud engine. You could cut these four or five services and rebuild all of them with a Claude subscription, and here's how you could test it out. You're wasting a ton of money on your advertising, almost none of that even works anymore, and you're not even reaching the right people with your ads. Here are some influencers; sponsor them instead, and that'll get you a lot better results. Boom. Or some old lady somewhere has had a great, great life story, and she's like, I really want to write my book. Come spend a month with me. I'll tell you my life story for a few hours every day, and give me a finished book at the end of it. Writing is already a big part of what I do, as I explained in why writing books is my real job now.
So I'm so excited to see what's going to happen in my life. Every time I just throw out possibilities, what's interesting in life is that lots of times the exact people and opportunities that are looking for us, we are looking for them. Like in dating, there's this woman in South Africa, and I seem to be exactly what she's looking for in so many ways, and she's exactly what I'm looking for in so many ways. Her attitude is just so much better than the vast majority of women I've gone out with here. She loves my honesty, where the vast majority of women have hated it. She loves my outlook and what I do for work, whereas the vast majority of women have not liked that.
So what's nice too is I don't need to please everyone. I don't need to sell everyone. And even if the ignorant masses write all kinds of idiotic troll comments about how my skills aren't valuable and I should go get a job at McDonald's, my view is: ignorant masses, you all don't count. Your opinions and the things you think don't matter to me, because I am not one of you. I am very intelligent, very experienced, and have extremely valuable skills. I'm certain of that. I know that I'm very useful. I've paid the price for saying what I want in public before, as I wrote in what internet fame cost me, and I'm still saying it. And I know that somebody with a lot of money is going to find that and figure it out soon enough and be like, all right, I've got to get a hold of this guy. This guy is going to change my life, and I'm going to change his life financially. See you at jerrybanfield.com. If you have any ideas, get on there and share them with me on a call.
A Landscaper Offered Me $200 a Day. I'd Rather Be Homeless Than Get Skimmed.
From my live stream on October 17, 2026.
Legitimate hard work is for people who don't see that they're being ripped off. That is how I answered a viewer on my live stream who told me he works hard for his money, and I meant it. I don't believe in doing "legitimate hard work" the way most people mean it, because I already did that. I was a police officer working 40-plus-hour weeks, and looking back, I was just a tool for the elites.
Did I do some good? Yes. I took some people off the streets who were drunk driving and dangerous, and I am glad I did. I wrote more about that part of my life in my police officer stories and why I quit. But at the same time, the system I was enforcing was not built for the people doing the work. I remembered what Ashley said on her live stream: her husband told her he was so rich he didn't even have to deal with the federal government anymore, unless something went very wrong. That stuck with me. Our whole system seems set up to gatekeep honest, hardworking people from ever really getting ahead, and then to allow the most insane people to make all the money and control everything. That is how it seems to me.
So I do believe in work. I believe in doing work that is genuinely useful for people. Raising kids is honest hard work. What I don't believe in is putting in my hours so somebody else can skim off the top.
The $200-a-day landscaping offer
Here is a real example. I knew a guy I could go work for at his landscaping company. I think he paid around $200 a day, but you had to get out there and work for eight hours. I was curious about it, honestly. Then my friend who works with him told me, "I fucking hate going out there and working with this guy." And I thought, if I am going to do landscaping, it's going to be my company.
I am not taking money from somebody else who is skimming off the client while I get $200 for putting in eight hours of work. Fuck that. Nobody is ripping me off anymore. I would be down to run a landscaping company. I could do that. I am willing to do the work. But my real question was different: does humanity need me to do landscaping? I am not seeing it. I don't see that humanity needs me to do landscaping.
When a viewer reacted to the $200 number, I said that is just how expensive everything is in St. Petersburg, Florida: you can make $200 a day doing landscaping here. And that is for working under a guy who has the company and keeps the rest.
I said on the stream that maybe, if I am not financially supported doing YouTube, that will be a sign that humanity doesn't need me to do YouTube. I am open to that. I laid out the whole bet, and the "just get a job" math everyone kept throwing at me, in Everyone Told Me to Get a Job. I Gave YouTube 74 Days to Make $30,000, so I won't repeat it here. What I added on this stream was the part underneath it.
I would rather be homeless than get skimmed
I would rather sit on my ass and do nothing and be homeless than go let somebody else skim off me. At least if I was homeless or crashing on somebody's couch, I could go play tennis. I could go do yoga. I could hang out with my kids. And the truth is, I basically can't be homeless. I have too many people who love me. There are so many people whose couch I could crash on for a while, if not move into their spare bedroom or guest bedroom.
I would rather do nothing than go out and let somebody else get rich off my work. If more of us had this attitude, a lot of things on this planet would have to change. A lot of what goes on here only goes on because people are willing to do anything to survive. I'm not. If you don't want to take good care of me, I ain't doing shit for you. I am not trying to be out here letting somebody else make a bunch of money and become a billionaire off of my labor.
It made me think of Dave Chappelle's The Bird Revelation. That whole stand-up special was about this. He felt Comedy Central was pimping him out just to make money off of him, and he didn't want to go along with it. Maybe life is just getting pimped out doing one thing or another, and you have to try to be the pimp instead of the one out on the street.
Dear humanity, how may I serve you?
There is a relationship between each of us and humanity. Praying to God feels less practical to me some days, so instead I offer myself to humanity and say, "Dear humanity, how may I serve you? Let me know how I may serve you." I haven't gotten any clearer message than doing exactly what I was doing on that stream.
Part of how I serve is giving. I give homeless people $20 every time I see them, and I have given tens of thousands of dollars to homeless people in the last decade. I wrote about why in why I give $20 and serve first, including the time a family ripped one of my $20 bills in half.
Cleaning houses at $100 an hour
One friend told me that if I started a house cleaning business, I could make $100 an hour cleaning houses. I would clean houses for $100 an hour. But is cleaning houses what I am uniquely gifted to do for humanity? Probably not. Most people can't step up and do a live stream like the one I was doing. That same stream, a viewer sent a $50 tip straight through my website.
Someone else asked about luxury house sitting and pet sitting. I would do it. I figure the opportunities will come to me when I am very grateful. But I also want to give where other people aren't giving. My show is pretty unique and special. If I am not doing my show, there is nothing quite like it. There are lots of other shows, but I am giving something unique, and the people watching demonstrate that. Meanwhile, there are so many people in this town who would be happy to pet sit, and me competing with them is not ideal. I would rather let other people have the things they want, and take the things that are uniquely crafted for me.
If what I make is the kind of thing only I can give and you want to help keep me doing it instead of landscaping for someone else, you can leave me a tip on my website.
I Could Build That, But I Won't
Originally published January 29, 2026.
This is my journal entry from January 29, 2026 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
I woke up this morning to begin the day with a call with Joe Parys. Joe Parys, you can see him at JoeParys.com. I've coached him and known him for over a decade now. He first ran into me on Udemy when he was creating his first course. Now he's up to almost a million students on Udemy. He has 80-some courses. He paid me to coach him when he was building up his brand new YouTube crypto channel, which now has hundreds of thousands of subscribers and has done very well for him over the years, although it's not a great time right now with the crypto environment. And he's looking to build himself a new business model. We scheduled a call just to catch up, and he showed me he found some girl that's selling 24 courses for $24. And I told him he should sell 27 courses for $27 and build a bundle and a business system similar to her if that's what he wants to do. He told me that she gets most of her traffic from paid ads.
And we talked a lot about the whole business system. I did ask him ethically. I said, do you think this is a good experience for all the suckers who are clicking on these paid ads and are buying this girl's courses and coaching? How many of them are actually getting any kind of decent results? Probably almost none. According to the statistics I remember on Udemy, the majority of students who bought my courses never even watched it. Joe said the same thing with his crypto course. Even people paying hundreds of dollars generally did not even watch more than one single video. And it's not because of the quality of the course, it's that people buy stuff all the time they don't actually use, even if it costs $300. So I said to him, is this a good thing? Is this worth your time? Is there anything better than you can do? And he said, you know, I'm not worried about that. If people want to buy stuff that's up to them, I'm worried about making a business system that's profitable and that gets my courses out there to people who will watch them, shares my experience online. I'm like, okay, I get that.
And he said, you know, I could pay you to help me with this because I don't know how to do paid ads. And I said, well, I'd recommend you do the paid ads yourself and I'll coach you on how to do the paid ads along the way and make it easier. So what's really cool is he might hire me for some coaching, which would be some nice income coming in. This did get me inspired thinking, man, I could do a business system like that, but I'm just not feeling it. It just doesn't. I can't imagine creating courses and doing all that crap with social media ads. I'm like, man, if there's some way I could put these skills to work, I'd love to find it. But right now, I'm not sure. If you are sitting on skills you know are valuable but cannot yet see the business you actually want to build with them, you can schedule a private one-on-one call with me and we will work through it together.
After the call with Joe, I have a training session scheduled with my personal trainer. And therefore, the best thing to do seems to be to hit an AA meeting before that. So I go to the AA meeting, hang out there, say hi to people as usual. Then I come back and do my session with my personal trainer at 1230. Meanwhile, the woman from my gym has not responded in almost a day to my text asking if she'd like to go out. My personal trainer confirms that that's a reasonable text I sent, like she should have responded by now. And I'm like, what the hell is going on with girls just not responding at all? The woman I'd been talking to hasn't responded to my message yesterday. I sent a couple more messages, and several of them didn't get responded to either. It's up to me to make the effort, right, and it's not up to me to get results. It only takes one girl that's really responsive and likes me to make a huge difference.
I finish up with my training session with my personal trainer, which takes a little longer, and I have a great leg workout doing that with him. I schedule the rest of my sessions with him before my time runs out and we have a great chat about dating. And I'm going to try now approaching girls whenever I can. If they're really attractive, I'm just going to acknowledge that at the beginning of the conversation because it seems really powerful and I'm just going to blast through my fear that there's going to be negative consequences because there were already what you'd say were negative consequences of going to a yoga studio, even though I was trying to be so discreet and indirect. It's like, fuck it. Might as well just go say what I want to say and be honest and be direct, be myself. My personal trainer makes a great point that if you're in the right place, you'll be supported being just as you are. And that's great. If I can't go to a yoga studio and tell girls they're hot, then I should go somewhere else where my business is better appreciated.
After working out with my personal trainer, I come home and I stop at a grocery store on the way home, grabbing a whole bunch of whole plant foods. I mean, look at my cart. It's so obvious I'm healthy. There's potatoes in there, all vegetables, fruit all over the place. I got some tahini. It's like, no shit, this guy's healthy. Look at his grocery cart. Not one bullshit thing in my grocery cart. I head home and make myself a nice big salad, and I record a chapter of my book, which I feel really good getting back to recording my book. I do a nice long St. Pete chapter. Actually, fuck, no, I did that yesterday. I did the St. Pete chapter yesterday, but I started editing it today, and I get ready to have the kids come over.
My ex-wife drops the kids off. My son's feeling a little bit of what we call floppy, and he is just wanting to rest, so he lays down in bed for most of the day, and I have some really nice time with my daughter. My daughter and I draw some pictures and talk. Then I take my daughter to her piano lesson where I spend 30 minutes as my son rests in the back seat laying down. I edit the St. Pete chapter of my Un-effin'-myself book. Then I'm back home with my daughter, and my son is up for playing the Harry Potter Monopoly game. Lays halfway down in the chair and just drops the dice on top of the table and we move for him. We have a good time. We get in bed nice and early tonight with me, including me, getting in bed before 9 p.m. And I'm looking forward to a nice long day of sleep.
Right after the kids got here, the woman I'd been talking to did text me back yesterday. She sent three messages. I don't need to put everything she says, but I sent her three messages back after four hours. And I felt really good just getting a fucking message back. And I leaped into fantasy and like, well, it's nice to at least get some attention. And I'm enjoying the adventure of not knowing who's going to be the next one. And at least there's some potential candidates right now. She certainly, I think she's probably top of the list right now, but maybe I just need to make the list bigger. I get in bed with the kids nice and early and I'm really grateful for a day that was pretty relaxing with them, productive for me, and I'm feeling full of optimism about my business going forward.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
An Honest Ask, Not a Pitch
Originally published January 22, 2026.
This is my journal entry from January 22, 2026 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
Step one of my day today is to go pick the kids up and take them to school. I have a nice time seeing them today, and I'm glad to feel useful helping save my ex-wife a little bit of time, plus this only chance I'm going to get to have to see the kids today. So I enjoy chatting with them, and finally I get to read my son's Pluto book this morning. I drop them off, then head back to work obsessively on my letter, especially after finding a guy yesterday that can deliver them and he says he's going to start Friday or Saturday. We need to get this letter figured out. I dictate another hour-long letter, this time with the idea that the outside of the letter should say open and then the letter should be about open, being open and openness to new ideas. I spent hours dictating this letter, it starts off with like 16 pages of transcripts. I get it down to like eight pages of transcripts, but something's not feeling right with it.
I go to personal training and I see my personal trainer at 1230 as I'm working on this letter. And I noticed a woman who works at my gym is at the front desk as well. I then talk with my trainer and ask rather, you know, maybe I should ask her out or if that would be a good idea. And our conversation concludes with me thinking that I should wait and see if there's a natural opportunity that comes up. I've gotten all kinds of phone numbers in my life from just forcing things like I could easily walk up to her at the desk and just be like, hey, can I talk to you and then ask for her phone number. But in the past when I've done that, it generally goes nowhere because there's not quite the energy. I think that the woman at the desk is pretty flirty and friendly with me, but my trainer, from knowing her at work, he says, well, she's generally that way with lots of other people, too. That's just her personality. And I'm like, oh, okay, I was taking that personally, and I guess it's nothing personal. And if there's anything special here, there will be an opportunity that naturally comes up to talk to her.
After that I hang out kind of awkwardly for a minute and use a Stairmaster to get a little extra cardio after the workout and to think whether I want to finalize this decision today or not. And then after that, I'm like, yeah, I'm just I'm not feeling it. I'm not feeling like there's that connection there today. I say goodbye walking by the front desk and it feels like the right move. I head home and I get back to work deep on the letter again. And the more I work on the letter, I'm thinking shit like this long letter like this is not going to work, which is what everybody said. I tried delivering eight of the long help letters around my neighborhood, but putting a letter that says help on people's front porches doesn't feel quite right either. It sounds a little too desperate and doesn't match the tone I want. Plus, it takes so much money to print these longer letters out.
I then go to yoga because I wanted to go to a yoga instructor's class. But when I get there like five or ten minutes early, there's already a handful of dudes that have all put their mats like right around where her mat is. Like, damn, this girl's got a nice little following of guys that want to be right up there next to her during class, which that was my plan, too. And I put my mat down off to the side to try and get a little less heat, but it doesn't work. My trainer had also talked to me during our personal training session about dating girls and keeping active, he said, you know, rest is rust and motion is lotion, which I very much agree with. At the same time I was telling him that I'm like I just don't want to date a girl that's less than like an eight, you know. I want to date girls that are very attractive to me that I'm really excited about. And what I've seen over the last few months is I've tried to ask a bunch of girls out that you might number rate them as like sixes or sevens. And it's just annoying when a six or a seven doesn't want to go out with me. I feel like I shouldn't even have asked in the first place. And then if they did want to go out with me, there's a high likelihood I'm wasting their time. I went out with one from my online dates and it doesn't feel like it's worth my time.
Also, a woman I'd been talking to sent a follow-up message yesterday saying, oh, she need to take her time. Thanks for my message. And she'd get back to me. But no message from her today. I'm like, I don't understand why you even send a message like that. Why I am so on top of my messages. Like, are people so overwhelmed they can't even respond to text messages and messages people send? That's crazy. After that discussion, though, my trainer's like, I told him the only girls I had my eye on right now were the woman who works at my gym and the yoga instructor that I went to see today. And he's like, damn, you got your sights set high. I'm like, yes, I'd rather be single than waste my time with someone I'm not that excited about.
I think about how my worst case scenario would be drifting into an unhappy marriage out of loneliness. I'm like, that's my worst case scenario. I'd rather be single that entire time than be stuck in something like that. And this is really good for me to be getting here because over the last few months, as you might have noticed, I started to feel pretty desperate at various times, feeling like I needed to have a woman. After the yoga class, which ends up being nice and hot and sweaty, even though I did a nice arm workout with my trainer, I'm grateful I can make it through a power flow a few hours later. And I do wish I'd had a little more time for my food to digest beforehand, but it's all good. There's a beautiful redheaded girl next to me in class. She offers me the spray bottle, but I say no because it's my mat. Then I don't know what else to say, but at least I'm happy she did turn to me and say something, even if it was as small as that. I'm thinking, man, I want to do a little better trying to get some conversation or something to happen in these damn yoga classes. I'm not sure what to do, but right now, just showing up is, to me, the gateway where things get happening. It seems like girls need to get to know me and recognize me before anything's likely to happen, but who knows? It depends on the person, right? If you've been wrestling with the same thing—whether it's better to hold out for someone you're genuinely excited about than settle out of loneliness—that's a conversation I'm always up for having honestly; book a private one-on-one call with me and we'll talk it through.
I head home, and I've got clarity. As my boy from AA calls to talk to me that I'm doing a meeting for tonight, he reinforces that a letter should be short, not some eight page thing, but it should be a short to the point letter. And I realized talking to him, my letter fundamentally needs to not try and pitch from a position of strength and sell something because let's be real here. If I was in a position of strength with what I'm doing, I wouldn't be putting fucking letters on people's doorsteps. Clearly, I'm in a position where I could use some help, and that's why I'm putting letters on people's doorsteps, not because my business is so successful and I'm making so much money and I have so many clients that I thought I'd just also put letters on somebody's doorstep to try and promote it. I realize the theme of the letter needs to be just a clear ask for help, which is where the theme started, but this one should be much more clear and direct about the help and not try and act like I'm directly selling them something.
With this in mind, I eat dinner, which is a salad, and then in 30 minutes, I dictate and go through and make a new version of the letter. However, this one will have the word open on the front of it because open also signals that I will be asking people to open the letter, and I'm looking for people who are open-minded, and I am open to feedback and advice. So open is the perfect word to put on the front of the letter. But then inside the letter, it starts off saying, thank you for opening this. We don't know each other and I'm asking you for advice. In order for you to give me advice, I'm going to need to tell you a little bit about myself so you can give me some guidance. I then do a few paragraphs on my history, on all my business online, my books, etc. And then I ask, if you were me, what would you do to make a local business? Then I wrap the letter up with my contact information and acknowledge most people won't respond and that's okay because it gives me time for the people that do respond. ChatGPT thinks this is a great version of the letter and I start printing out copies of it. I print out like 80 copies of it because my guy from AA who's going to door deliver for me says he'll be ready Saturday, which means I ideally should have at least four or five hundred of these ready to pass out for him to pass out because he's going to be going door to door for five hours on Saturday and Sunday. So I need to have my letters ready for him to pass out.
And I'm excited to just be completely transparent and lead by example. Like what I love about this letter that I've written now, it leads by example. It says, look, I don't have all the answers. I asked people in my life already for advice. I'm living based on my principles and values. I want to help people, but I'm not sure how to do it. Here's what I can do. Here's what I've done. What do you think? And it's a great example. It's like, hey, if we just honestly reach out and ask each other for help, there's all kinds of problems we can solve. And it would only take a handful of meaningful connections for things to totally take off. That, to me, is really exciting. And the cost of these letters to print is so low that basically I'm just paying for the labor to pass them out, and I can always pass them out myself too. I'm thinking if I can pass thousands of these letters out, I'm going to get some really helpful feedback. And meantime, I'll be supporting somebody else who wants to work and pay their rent. It all feels perfectly aligned. I get a new copy of the letter done. My friend from AA gives me feedback on it as well. If you're trying to get a local business off the ground and would rather just ask someone honestly than pretend you have it all figured out, that's exactly the spirit I built this around—schedule a private one-on-one call with me and ask me anything.
Then I go to the meeting. And I do the lead at the meeting. I dress up nice. And my new clothes are received well. I feel fantastic in them. And I look great in them to other people as well, which is perfect. We read the to the wives section of the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous. And then I do a 10 minute lead. We have a discussion. And then I end up talking with my friend after the meeting for an hour. We have a great discussion. He is in his early 20s, so he has said he hasn't been on a date in years. We talk a lot about women and dating, but he also says he feels like a failure because he has a job that he doesn't really enjoy, but he just goes to it to make money, which is interesting because I feel like a success for being out here doing my own thing, trying to make my own business work. It's funny because he's actually making money, but I right now am just exploring. He feels like a failure, even though he has his living situation. Financially, he's doing great. He's making money. He has almost no expenses, but he feels like things aren't going well. I'm over here with a negative several thousand dollar a month balance in my finances, and I'm not dating anyone either, but I feel like my life is going great.
One of the best things I take out of the conversation with him that I really want to remember going forward is I end up telling him that I'd rather be single than date below my, I was trying to put this in boxing terms, I'd rather be single than date below my weight class. Like, I want a girl that's amazing. I want another girl like my ex-wife, but, you know, slightly different. I want a girl, my ex-wife is very attractive. Like I told him, my ex-wife's at least a nine when we met. And she still is absolutely gorgeous. And every girl's gonna have issues with her personality. Every girl has a personality, but not every girl has a great body. And my ex-wife's had a great body the whole time, the whole 15 years we were together still to this day. And I'm not gonna settle on that. I'm not gonna accept some woman that I'm not very attracted to because I'm not going to be the best version of me with some girl that I'm not really attracted to. And even when I am really attracted to a girl, I'm not just going to let her, you know, run my whole life and do whatever she wants either. Like a girl that I'm very attracted to, to me, is the gateway to being an equal. A girl that I'm not attracted to is only ever going to have the chance to be dominated by me because I'm not going to be an equal in that sense.
And I have a great epiphany realizing that I would rather be single for the next 10 years than to keep going from one relationship I'm not excited about to another. Like, no. I have so much to do, so much I care about in my life. I have kids. I would rather be single than date someone I'm just not excited about. Because settling like that is one of the easiest things I could do to bring myself down, you know, gets me into drinking again or dating a woman whose habits ruin my health and fitness, because me dating a woman like that is more likely to ruin my commitment to health and fitness than it is to help her. People's negative habits often tend to drag other people down rather than lift them up. Although the exceptions are much more interesting, like how my ex-wife helped me get healthy instead of me dragging her down. There are exceptions, of course.
So I get home and I look at the letter again, make a couple of small changes and I'm ready to shower and go to bed. I'm wondering if I should text a woman I'd been talking to, but she hasn't texted me back in a week and a half, and I'm tired of always being the one that sends out the text messages. The one thing, a woman who's going to be awesome and amazing for me will not be someone that can't respond to text messages. If you don't have time to respond to my messages, if you just leave the conversation hanging and don't follow up, if you need several fucking days to reply to my message, there's nothing worth my time there. And my time is valuable and I'm not going to waste it. So I'm not sending her a message after I sent her the last message. If she doesn't care enough to keep the conversation going, there's not enough mutual interest there. I'm not going to keep texting her and hoping she'll remember that I'm alive. Either she can do that, she can send a message back and start things up again, or I'm good. I'll find somebody. I want that energy. I reflect on a woman I had a crush on in yoga in 2023. That's the energy I want. If there's not that level of energy and intensity there, then I don't want it. And I'd rather be single. And I go to bed feeling very good about having that clarity.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Done Chasing, All In on the Work
Originally published January 16, 2026.
This is my journal entry from January 16, 2026 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
The kids got up a little late today, but we managed to get out the door for school by 8. They decided they wanted to eat their breakfast in my bed, so that was fine. I guess I always change the sheets when there's burrito and fruit spilled all over. But I love having them here in the morning. I love getting to be a dad. It's so nice. And after dropping them off to school, I went straight to yoga at my yoga studio. There was a beautiful woman in front of me and I'll admit I was distracted by the view. I was putting out all the I love you and you're so perfect and I'll worship you vibes, seeing if I could get her to have a crush on me. And I didn't say anything to her, though. She didn't try and make eye contact, smile or anything. I'm like, oh, just put out the vibes and see who picks up on them. And the class was intense today. This instructor had me fucked up, standing on one leg so much. I was like, shit. But this is why I came. I sweated all over the place, too. And then it was actually cold today. Walk outside with all that sweat, and it's like, fuck, it's like 50 out. It's like Michigan, but not nearly as much as Michigan.
I drove home and threw down a big salad. Then a friend comes over to work on his book and he talked to me a little bit about my letter, and he said that he thought I could put more emotion into it, which I'll see if I can do. I don't know if that means I need to not use the AI, or tailor the AI a bit differently so it doesn't water down my emotion. We'll see about getting more emotion into the letter. He records some of his book and shares something deeply personal and moving, which was very moving and nice to hear, finally after knowing him so long. Then he heads out and I come in to get to work on reframing the letter and getting it ready to write.
And then I head out to meet a friend for lunch. We meet at a restaurant. He's the guy a week ago I threw the football with and walked around with last Saturday. He buys me lunch for $39, which I sure appreciate. It was good. I encourage him to pay four extra dollars for the steak, which he really enjoys.
After the restaurant, I thought that was going to be it, and I was going to get to go home and work on my letter, which I've realized should be rebranded to a help letter, not a thank you letter, because a friend who I've mentioned a few times said that the letter didn't really read like a thank you letter. There was just a little bit of gratitude in the beginning, and then it was just all about you after that. And I'm like, OK, yeah, I was thinking maybe I need to rebrand the letter. The original idea I had was just to write help on the outside of it, with the thought that somebody praying for help will find this letter and be like, God literally dropped off the help I was praying for on my doorstep. That's the wavelength I'm trying to hit. Someone who's struggling with all the things I've been through, like alcoholism, weight gain, sickness, divorce, money, ups and downs, building your own business, work, meaning of life, relationships, then I would just drop this letter on the door. It'd have a lot of help in it for somebody, new ideas, inspiration, and then it'd have me to follow up with. If you're trying to reach people who are genuinely struggling—with addiction, divorce, money, building something of your own—and want help finding words that actually land, that's the kind of thing I love working on with people; schedule a private one-on-one call with me and we'll work on it together.
So before lunch with my friend, I went through and put his feedback into practice and rebranded to a help letter. It shouldn't be a thank you letter. People are going to open a thank you letter expecting a quick one, like they're going to open it thinking it's probably from someone they know thanking them for something specific they did. But when they see it's a generic thank you letter, they're probably going to be like, what the fuck, and toss it. Whereas if it says help on it, then that's going to be just pure curiosity. And then the goal of the letter will be to help them in the letter based on my experience.
After talking with my friend, he at lunch points out, after I've got my event page all polished, he says, Jerry, I just don't see girls you don't know just coming over to your house for an event at night on Friday or Saturday. I don't see that happening. And I'm like, yeah, ChatGPT didn't like that either, but just for everybody. And then I don't like not being able to put my address. So I tell him about my business plan, but this starts to unravel a little bit. We go to the park by my house at Crescent Lake and we throw the football some more. It's funny because a week ago, both of us were really throwing and catching amazing. Like I was amazed how good I was throwing and catching. And he was too. For some reason, both of us are kind of not doing as well today. His throws are wobbly and inaccurate, and my right arm starts to hurt from my throws. So he says he needs to change out of his boots and his pants so he can throw properly, which does help him throw better. Meanwhile, I end up, by the end of it, kicking the ball, and then we just end up talking a lot. I ended up hanging out with him from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. today, which was great to talk to him. I don't know if I'll ever see him again, but how cool is that to just run into somebody and make a friend that easily? Maybe I'll run into a new girlfriend that easily. Second wife will just come into my life that easily. Wouldn't that be cool?
I realized yesterday spiraled again, mostly out of dating. Like, I don't think I've had one spiral that didn't involve dating. And I talked a lot about girls and dating with my friend. After talking to him, I changed the laundry and go to my son's soccer game. And I felt like I couldn't talk to my ex-wife about dating. She asked not to have details. But I talked to her more general. I'm like, you know, dating's really been frustrating. And the times I've spiraled, it's been dating related. And I told her how sad I was yesterday, inviting these two girls, the one from AA and a woman I had been seeing, and neither of them even responded. It's still, now it's like 30 hours later, neither of them even sent a response. And just totally feeling frustrated. Like what the fuck is happening? Like I'm just totally out of sync. I'm inviting girls to do stuff with me that don't want to do anything. Then like a woman I dated briefly, I got involved with her and got her all into me, and then I don't want her. I'm attracting attention at AA meetings that I'm not interested in. And then I'm just getting blown off and rejected in shocking proportions.
Meanwhile, my ex-wife has not been dating at all, not been concerned with it at all, enjoying her space and her time to herself, which makes sense after being in a marriage for almost 15 years. And she'd like some time off. Like, I wasn't really looking to take any time off, certainly wasn't on my mind when I was telling my ex-wife we needed more intimacy or I was going to want a divorce. Wasn't thinking that might mean a serious dry spell for me, too. Anyway, I realized that, you know what? I either need to go to one extreme or another with my dating. Either I need to be on dating apps, and I tested little bits of this, as you may have noticed over the last few months if you read these. I tested little bits of going all in on dating, swiping my ass off on dating apps, trying to pick every girl up everywhere I go, getting phone numbers. The one day that I documented in the book Nine Hours Later, the last day of it, I had gone all in, even texting a bunch of women in one morning trying to make something happen, and my conversion rate was just under 10%, so I'll take it. And, you know, that didn't work out well. Sure, something happened with a woman I dated briefly, but it was a performance. I didn't feel like I was really being myself with her. I was tired of it, even walking around my neighborhood with her hoping nobody I knew would see us. That's not a good feeling. That's not how it should be. It should be somebody I'm really excited about, and they're really excited about me.
And either I need to go all in and just try super hard at dating, which made sense when I had time for that, when I didn't have kids, when I was in grad school, and my life consisted of porn, drinking, video games, football, including watching football, drinking beer during football and fantasy football, and then doing my grad school stuff. Yeah, I had time to put a shitload of effort into online dating back then because look at the rest of my life. But I don't now. I have a lot of shit to do now that I care about. And, you know, I like the idea of just fucking my life away on video games again, but I have things I want to do. I don't have time to do that anymore. And I don't have time to swipe dating apps.
So I realized talking to my ex-wife, I need to go to one extreme or another. Right now, I've been in this middle ground where I'm trying at dating but I'm not really going all out. And the way I've been approaching it, you need to go either all out or just stop. So starting today, I swear I've said this before, but starting today for real on January 16th, 2026, I'm giving up on trying to date, at least with my head and with my mind. I do leave my heart open and just keep an eye out and keep putting out, you know, like that woman in yoga this morning, just lasering her with I love you, the feeling that we'd have a great life together. And you wonder why a woman at a yoga studio once complained she didn't feel comfortable with me behind her in class. I think she was drawn to me and didn't like that she was, because she was married. But it makes sense. I'm going to keep putting those vibes out because a lot of the girls at my yoga studio seem single and they need those vibes. And one time, somewhere, somehow, it's going to fucking work. But at the same time, I'm not going to try and date anymore. I'm not going to try and get phone numbers and try and ask girls to do shit unless it's just so much tension, like with a woman I had a crush on. With her, there was so much emotional tension there. It was so hard not to ask her to give me her phone number and go out on a date. There was a crazy amount of tension there. And I want to build that kind of emotional tension again because I reflected that my fear is, if I don't make something happen, nothing's going to happen. If you're caught in that same middle ground with dating—half-trying and quietly burning out—and want to talk through what going all in or letting go would actually look like for you, book a private one-on-one call with me and we'll talk it through.
And I see now, I didn't try and make anything happen with her at the yoga studio. I was just putting out these loving vibes, but I saw her six to ten times before we ever made eye contact or spoke to each other. Maybe we made eye contact briefly once walking by each other, but I saw her a bunch of times, we had our mats next to each other several times, we built an insane amount of tension, and then there was so much tension that she actually spoke to me first. And then there was so much tension going forward that I was obsessed with her and I was afraid of cheating with her, and I ended up having to be the first one to break it off, to be like, I can't keep coming to this yoga class. And then she broke the other class off.
And thinking about before bed last night and then talking to my ex-wife, it's like, I need to stop trying to date. And what I need to go all in on, what I am going all in on, is my business. My business. The main thing with dating is I don't have that time to give dating. I need my time for my business. If I'm going to dump my time into something, it's my business. And ideally, in the course of dumping my time into my business and AA meetings and yoga, I'm going to meet my second wife. And I'm going to have beautiful kids and be with a great woman before you know it. And it'll have happened naturally. That's what I'd really like to happen, for things to happen where my heart kind of leads the way instead of my mind trying to run strategies and game and asking for numbers. All right, so you all heard what I just said, right? Now, that was the intention I left soccer with. I watched my son play soccer, and he played goalie and kicked a goal out, which was nice, but then the other team kicked a goal in, and he said he wanted to be a good goalie. I'm like, buddy, you stopped that one ball from coming in. That was great. Just because they scored a goal doesn't mean you're a bad goalie.
And as we're walking out, my ex-wife and I ended up having a great talk. I'm glad I opened up to her. And she said, you know, no one is more invested in your success, especially with dating, than I am. I would love to see something work out for you. And I'm like, my God, what an ex-wife. That's a dream come true for an ex-wife. An ex-wife that's given me some money, which is all gone, by the way, or almost all gone. And then I got the like 12,000 or so from my Discover card sitting in there. But considering the credit, yeah, it's basically all gone already. And we're moving into credit. So if there's going to be all in on something, my business is the number one candidate, because I'll be fine even if I stay single for the next year. But if my business goes nowhere in the next year, shit could get uncomfortable. Your boy might not be in a nice ass house like this if my fucking business doesn't make some money. So I'm going all in on my business.
And after soccer, I drive home, eat the rest of the noodles with a little mushroom gravy on them. Then I drive out to this meeting, which I'm like, God damn, I'm not trying to break the anonymity every fucking meeting I go to. So I go out to this meeting. It's a young people meeting. I guess I just need to state that because the rest of this will make sense. And I'm like, damn, there's a good amount of hot young girls at this meeting. Like, shit, I'm going to have to start being a regular here. But the time for it conflicts with the deeper connections event I had set up. I'm like, shit, I'm not going to be able to make this meeting. A 2Pac song popped into my head right here, but I won't quote it.
Anyway, I'm at this meeting. There's a lot of hot young girls there, and as the girl saying it, I sit in the front row. And there's a girl two chairs over, one between us, and I'm like, she looks familiar, and I realized I'd seen her at the meeting I'm chairing on Wednesdays. And I'm like, damn, it's nice to see her again. And of course, last time I saw her, I was married. This time, this girl is so fine. She's getting all my I love you vibes for the whole meeting, just lasering in on her. So I'm sitting there and she keeps looking over in my direction so many times. Like, what is she looking at? There's no clock back there or anything. But she doesn't make eye contact with me until after. And when she gets up to go hold hands, she goes off in a different direction. But then after the meeting, I go up and talk to her. I'm like, hey, are you who I think you are? And she says, yeah, I'm sober a couple of years now. I'm like, awesome. That's awesome. And she's in her early 20s and she's already sober a couple of years.
And of course, my mind's already spun a plan up. Remember what I just said like five minutes or less ago. But my mind's like, you know what you should do? She got a couple of years sober now. You should have her do the lead at the meeting you're chairing. And you probably should get her phone number just to confirm that. I'm like, yeah, damn it. So I ask her, she said she was just thinking about that meeting that she used to go to that I'm chairing. And I'm like, hey, I'd love to have you speak at it. I'm chairing it this month. There's two openings. Are you available either? She's like, I'm not available, I'm traveling next week, but the week after that I'm available. I'm like, great, I'll put you down. And then, so I could be smooth and not like I have to have her phone number, I said, would you like to just show up there and I'll count on you? Or do you want me to give you my phone number in case you can't make it or something? She's like, oh, I'll definitely be able to make it, but yeah, I'll give you my phone number. I'm like, good, because I played fast and loose with the last person who was doing the topic and they came late, I had a backup chair and it was a little nerve wracking, so thank you. So she sends me a text. I message back with my name confirming the time, so if she forgets, it's there, when and where she's doing. And I leave thinking, all right, yeah, I'm definitely not trying to date, but let me get this girl in her early 20s' phone number who's sober. I'm thinking of my massage therapist talking about how she was 25 and her first boyfriend was like 50. And I'm like, yeah, I'm like 20 years older than this girl, but definitely that could work, couldn't it? I was watching her body language out of my peripheral vision when the guy doing the topic was talking about kids, and I got the sense she might want kids someday, and my mind ran ahead imagining a future with her after only just meeting her again.
So I head home and I take some peace and quiet after spending earlier in the day listening to more of the guest and Dr. Michael Salla and the three admirals and the nature of reality and all that shit. It is good because I like that the guest encourages you to go within and discern, which I think is about the healthiest thing you can do. Anytime you're telling people that they need a savior, that they need to look outside, it's like, yeah, you do need to consult outside, but first and foremost, let's go within. And I went within tonight on the way home, and I kind of talked to my future second wife, and I could imagine her saying, yes, this is what I'm talking about. Just be where you are and don't try and date. I will make myself very known and very available to you. You're not going to have to hunt for me or swipe for me or guess. I will make it very clear to you that I want you, and you'll pick up on it. So I'm like, all right, cool.
I get home, and I ask ChatGPT. I start thinking. I'm like, you know, I think I need to cancel this event. Fuck, after all this time I put in this event, and literally, what is this, the 50th event I've canceled on Eventbrite or some shit in the last few months? It's okay. It's like, I do not need an event. I do my best work one-on-one and public speaking, and it'd be better to meet people, to go speak somewhere else that already has an audience. So I started to put all this together, like, well, what is this feedback? I'm like, I need to cancel the event. So I came home, I deleted the event. And I'm like, this help letter needs to promote all of me. It needs to promote that I'm an author. Here are my books. I mean, first and foremost is to help people. But then if I'm going to talk about myself, it needs to show off my books. It needs to talk about my speaking. Like this letter, if I'm going to give a letter to thousands of people, one outcome I'd love is if people invite me to speak places, speak at AA meetings, churches, schools, companies, charities. I'd even go speak to people who are incarcerated. I want to get public speaking opportunities because I said I'm an author, speaker, and a coach.
This letter should be promoting my author, speaking, and coaching. Having an event is not like being a public speaker. That's like a workshop host. I can host a workshop, but based on the AA meeting I led, I can hold space, but I'm nothing special as a workshop host. Like if I already had people I was coaching or that had my number from speaking, that'd be one thing to invite them. But just starting an event cold and trying to get people to come, I don't think that's going to work. So I realized talking to ChatGPT, I need to cancel the event and my letters should be promoting my writing, my speaking, and my coaching, my public speaking on any of the topics in the letter. So the purpose of having this long letter, people will have a very good idea of what I could talk about and what me speaking would look like. And then the letter is a good example where I could do consulting for a company on marketing because clearly, if I'm getting that kind of attention, both online and offline, I can do marketing. And the coaching, anyone who wanted one-on-one coaching could be getting coaching on anything I talk about throughout the letter. Like the letter is a perfect vehicle to promote me, author, speaker, coach. And therefore an event doesn't fit into author, speaker, coach. And I'm really excited. This help letter now feels like I've got the full formula that I've been kind of fumbling for and trying to get out there. The letter should be positioned as help, and it should promote author, speaker, coach, and just allow for any kind of thing to happen. If you're trying to package everything you do into one clear offer the way I was wrestling with here, that's exactly the kind of puzzle I love solving with people—schedule a one-on-one call with me and we'll build your version of it together.
And in the process of distributing this letter, I may have a great opportunity. Imagine I go to some church and I speak there, and my speaking lots of times is absolute euphoria for people. I could speak at somewhere like that, like a church, and a girl will come up afterwards and give me her phone number and want to go out with me right after that. Shit like that could happen. That's what we want to go for. And I need all my time to do this letter. And now I'm thinking, maybe I just need this one master help letter. And I just literally sit at a table at my gym with just that letter. I don't try and sell my books in person. I give the help letter out as my lead magnet. And then the letter sells my books, my speaking, and my coaching. The letter is the gateway. And then I give that one letter out everywhere. I give that letter out at AA meetings. And that letter given out at AA meetings could get me invited to speak at other AA meetings. And it could potentially get me coaching clients. And that's even something I'd have my phone number in it. Also, if somebody wanted to date, that'd be a way of just giving my phone number out more organically. And then I could give that out at yoga. If I meet someone, I'm like, hey, I have a letter I give out to everybody. And then if I talk to anybody and there's any friendliness, I could be like, hey, I have a letter I give out to everybody, would you like to have one? It covers, I think it'll be really helpful for you. That could turn one of these girls that's beautiful into reading the letter and being like, damn, I've got to get to know this guy, way better than any kind of regular conversation could.
It also could mean I have to change yoga studios. But this letter will not have all the graphic sexual descriptions. I didn't think they were that graphic. It's not like I was going into that much detail. You can read Author in St. Petersburg if you haven't already, which I'm not sure how you got here. But I don't see what people are losing their goddamn mind over that I talked about in Author in St. Petersburg. I mean, I talked about semen retention with my massage therapist. I talked about wanting more intimacy in my marriage. Maybe it was my tone. Do you think it was something I could have said? And with that, I'm calling it a night.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Busywork Drained the Joy Right Out
Originally published November 21, 2025.
This is my journal entry from November 21, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I played tennis with a tennis partner again this morning. We had played a couple of weeks ago and ground through three full sets in about two and a half hours, so this time felt merciful by comparison. After dropping the kids off at school, I arrived at the courts and, thankfully, we managed to finish three sets in under two hours. We both had stretches where we completely forgot how to play. He took the first set 6–1, I came back and won the second 6–2, and then he crushed me in the third 6–0. Still, it was a solid workout, and we both enjoyed the effort. I headed home afterward, took a shower, and sat down to work on my Eventbrite events.
Over the next three hours, I created nine more events, then ate a massive salad and got ready to pick the kids up from school. Somewhere along the drive, I noticed that I didn’t feel good. I was grateful in that moment that I had resisted the temptation to go back on dating apps after writing a book called It’s Not You, It’s the Dating Apps. That book keeps reminding me, very clearly, that those platforms are not for me and that there are other things I need to be doing. After picking the kids up, I reflected on how I was feeling and realized that the activity I had just spent hours on wasn’t really the best I have to offer. What I keep noticing is that when I’m doing something meaningful, something that turns me on and feels aligned with who I am, I usually feel good. When I drift away from what I’d call my most joyous self, the bad feeling shows up fast. The switch can happen almost instantly. If you’ve noticed the same thing—that busywork quietly drains the joy out of you while the aligned work lights you up—and you want help sorting which is which in your own days, that’s one of my favorite things to work through with people; book a one-on-one call with me and we’ll sort out which is which together.
As I sat with that, I thought, maybe the core idea here is that books are it, and this frantic creation of events isn’t going to work the way I want it to. I decided I’d give the events some time to sell and see what happens, but I also found myself spiraling into thoughts about how worthless my books might be. I’ve self-published all of these books and haven’t made any real money from them so far. Still, I held onto the possibility that something worthwhile could come out of all of this. I brought the kids home, spent a little time with them and my ex-wife, then headed to my AA meeting. Once again, only a handful of us showed up, and we wrapped things up early. I had already said goodnight to the kids because I was planning to go to a local kirtan ceremony that evening.
After the meeting, I gave two of the guys a ride home since they needed it and it was on the way to the kirtan anyway. I hadn’t really planned to go straight there—I wanted to have a snack and pack up my table—but that plan fell apart. I dropped both of them off at their houses, feeling about as tired as I usually feel during the day. My mood was low, and it all seemed to spiral out of those hours spent creating events and wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do with my life. How am I going to make enough money to afford a $3,000-a-month house that we’re going to look at again tomorrow, this time with the family? With nothing better to do and no real alternative in front of me, I kept driving toward the kirtan, figuring I might as well get there early and see how it feels.
I called my sponsor twice today, and he didn’t answer either time. I arrived at the venue about twenty minutes early and sat in my car for a while, and slowly I started to feel a little better. Getting there had required a full internal negotiation. Right as I was about to turn onto the final street, I was ready to bail. I thought about just going home, relaxing, hanging out with my ex-wife and the kids, maybe spending time with my mom. I told myself I didn’t need this prayer-chanting shit tonight. I assumed it probably wouldn’t involve meeting anyone, probably wouldn’t be that good, and honestly, I just wasn’t feeling it. Still, I was already there, so I figured I might as well pull into the parking lot and see how it felt. After sitting there for a few minutes, I said, fuck it, and got out of the car. Maybe I’d feel better doing this. I seriously doubted I’d feel any better if I just went home.
As soon as I got out, I saw the host of the ceremony struggling to carry way too much stuff. He dropped a surge protector and was trying to scoop it up awkwardly with his sandal, so I picked it up for him. We walked in together, and I started to feel a little better almost immediately. This time, I brought in just a handful of my books, maybe fifteen of them, carrying them in one hand and setting them on half of a table. That felt right. The woman I met from the spiritual community was there with her boyfriend, and she had her full herbal remedies setup out. I was feeling slightly better, though still not great. I figured that if I was going to feel bad, I might as well feel bad here. At least there was a chance I’d meet some new people or give away a few books.
I ended up talking with a friend’s partner, and it turned out he knew a former close friend of mine, someone I had been close with years ago. He and I had done a couple life coaching sessions, a men’s circle, and even a viral GoldenEye stream together. We started reminiscing about him, and it felt surprisingly good to talk with someone who knew him back then. We both missed him and really appreciated the role he played in our lives. I found myself wondering whether he ever still thought about us, because we clearly still thought about him.
When the ceremony started, nothing special happened for me right away. I sat down in a chair on the back left side and realized I wasn’t really feeling the singing tonight. I decided I’d just try to receive, let whatever good vibes were there wash over me without forcing anything. I noticed that my mind wasn’t as toxic as it often is, which felt like a good sign. Maybe I could actually have a decent time. During the first song, I alternated between closing my eyes and letting the sound sink in, and opening them to look around the room. That’s when I started noticing a woman a little to my front right, a couple of rows up on the blankets. She didn’t seem to have come with anyone, and she was gorgeous. She had brown hair tied back in a small ponytail, green yoga pants, and a grayish long-sleeved shirt. I remember thinking, wow, this girl is beautiful. Who is she? I’d never met her before. I had seen her walking around a bit earlier, but sitting there by herself, she kept pulling my attention back to her.
During the second song, she stood up and started dancing in front of me. At that point, I thought, holy shit, this girl is hot. I kept wondering who she was, and I could feel some energy coming back into me. I started to feel a little better. Her partner played a slow, relaxing third song on the guitar, which I appreciated, and by the time the fourth song started, it felt right to stand up. I got up, placed my hands out in mountain pose, and focused on receiving whatever was there. I didn’t feel like dancing or singing, but I was open to taking in the good vibes.
As I kept noticing her, I found myself silently asking her, almost pleading in my head, please come dance in front of me again. And then she did. At first she moved slightly off to the left, but then she drifted back and ended up dancing directly in front of me, maybe an arm’s length away. I felt like I was about to pass out. She was unbelievably beautiful, and the way she moved was mesmerizing. I kept alternating between closing my eyes to feel the music and the energy, then opening them just long enough to steal another glance at her, barely able to believe what was happening.
At some point, people began forming a line, all standing shoulder to shoulder with their arms around one another. She moved to the end of the line. Instantly, a scene from Battlestar Galactica flashed through my mind, where the captain of the Pegasus tells Starbuck that when the time comes, don’t flinch. I thought, this is it. There was maybe a two-second window before someone else stepped into that spot next to her, and I took it. I moved right beside her and put my arm around her shoulder. She slid her arm along my lower back, resting it around my waist, and my whole body lit up. I was so turned on I felt dizzy. It was overwhelming, electric, almost unreal. I hadn’t spoken a word to her. I didn’t even know her name. I just kept thinking, what the hell is happening right now?
After our little love line kept dancing, another woman stepped in beside me, making it easier to just blend back into the group instead of being stuck on the end. When we finally had a moment, I asked her name, and she told me. From that moment on, I was fully committed to talking to her as much as I could. We sat back down as the host wrapped up the event. Then I noticed the guy sitting next to her—mid-sixties maybe, with full-length gray hair down to his shoulders—leaning in and starting a very deep, animated conversation with her. I decided to be polite and give them space, even though my mind was already rehearsing what I wanted to say to her. This week, I told myself, I’m not hesitating. I’m going to walk right up to her, tell her how gorgeous she is, tell her I can barely pay attention to anyone else when she’s around, and see where it goes. No matter the outcome, I was too curious not to follow through. I had to see what would happen. If there’s someone you keep hesitating to be honest with, I know that exact freeze, and it can help to talk through how you’d actually approach it—schedule a private one-on-one call with me and we’ll walk through it together.
That guy could really talk. I sat down, stood up, wandered around aimlessly, feeling awkward and useless. Thankfully, the woman I met had her back turned to me most of the time, sparing me the self-consciousness. Eventually, I got pulled into a conversation about my books with three women, all of whom ended up taking a copy. Then, finally, the guy stood up and moved away, leaving her alone for a moment. Almost perfectly timed, the women I was talking to wrapped up their conversation just as she stood up from her yoga mat. I thought, good timing, ladies. Thank you. I moved over to her immediately and started talking. The guy reappeared out of nowhere, trying to reinsert himself into the conversation, but I managed to get just enough words in. I told her how beautiful she was, how excited I was to finally talk to her, and that I had waited until she was free because I wanted to respect her conversation. I told her I’d really like to talk more.
Within five minutes of talking to her, we had exchanged phone numbers. Then the gray-haired guy was back. He said he hated to interrupt, which almost made me laugh out loud, because it looked exactly like he loved interrupting. I hadn’t interrupted earlier—that was the whole point—but apparently “hating to interrupt” didn’t stop him at all. On the surface, I stayed polite, friendly even, but underneath there was a clear awareness of what was happening. I saw him trying to get in my way, and I let him, mostly because I felt confident that at the pace things were moving, I was going to close this out anyway. So I figured, go ahead, take your shot.
He led her over toward the edge of the water and sat there talking with her for another twenty or thirty minutes. She was supposed to help clean up, so I stepped in and did it for her. I put tables away, moved chairs, carried my books back out to my car, went to the bathroom, and still, when I came back, he was talking. I couldn’t believe it. Finally, with only about ten minutes left before we had to be out of the venue, I decided I hated to interrupt too. I walked over and just stood there, saying nothing, positioning myself to her left and his right. She glanced at me a couple of times and smiled. He didn’t look at me at all. I stood there thinking, I hate to interrupt, bro, but here we are.
Eventually, he ran out of steam. It was obvious she’d had enough of listening to him, and he finally backed off and made space for me. That’s when I thought, all right, let’s see if I can pull what some of the guys in those books call an instant date. My plan was simple: walk her out to her car and talk with her as long as she was willing to talk with me that night. We headed out together, and she had a nice blanket with her that she carries around. I had thought there might be a little beach we could walk along at this location, but instead there were two benches overlooking the water. We stood there talking by one of the benches for about twenty minutes, and then she asked if I wanted to sit down. The bench was wet, but thankfully she had brought her blanket, so we spread it out and sat.
We ended up sitting there for about an hour. As we talked, I kept thinking, this is exactly why I was willing to be patient earlier. I had a feeling that guy could have his time talking to her, because I was going to be the one with her at the end of the night. The conversation was incredibly deep, touching on all kinds of aspects of our lives. She told me she’s a private person, so I’m not going to put the details of those topics here, but it was one of those rare conversations that feels open, honest, and real. At some point, we started holding hands. She placed her hand on top of mine and showed me what she likes about a massage. I had set that up by asking her what she thought about safety and attraction.
She talked about liking safe men, and I told her I understood that. I also said that while women want safety, there’s also an attraction to men who make moves and pursue, and that sometimes that element can feel a little dangerous. I asked how she saw the balance between boundaries, respect, and safety, and mystery, romance, and making moves. That opened the door for her to explain that she hates it when a guy just lunges at her. She said she would much rather a man ask if he can kiss her instead of creating some awkward, aggressive moment. She also said she prefers holding hands before kissing. So we held hands, sitting there on that bench by the water, for about an hour.
She got me emotional enough that I was tearing up a little while talking about my early sobriety. By the time we wrapped up, it was around 11:45 p.m., which meant we had spent a little under an hour and a half together, probably closer to an hour and twenty minutes of just the two of us talking. Eventually, she said she needed to use the bathroom, and since there weren’t any around, it was time to head out. I walked her back to her car, and she gave me a hug. I could feel very clearly that this wasn’t the moment to try to make out or even ask if she wanted a kiss. Ending it with a hug felt right, like it completed the experience without forcing anything.
Right before we parted, she said something that really stayed with me. She told me she didn’t feel like she knew me well enough to say it, but it was what she was feeling anyway. She said she was proud of me. I had shared my story about AA and sobriety with her, and she explained that she’s looking for a man who has his life together. She doesn’t want a fixer-upper. At this point, I’m not a fixer-upper. I have my shit together. That’s what she left me with: “I’m proud of you.” She also said she would wait for me to reach out to her, which immediately had my mind planning how that was going to go the next day.
When I got back into my car, I noticed something different from a similar experience I’d had about a month earlier. Instead of feeling euphoric, I felt kind of sad. I already missed being with her. There was also a sadness in knowing that the next phase is always uncertain. There’s a real chance that this could drop off, that this might be as good as it gets. I don’t know the odds of me texting her the next day and her being genuinely excited to go out and follow through, but there’s a significant chance it doesn’t make it past that point. At the same time, I thought back to just a couple of hours earlier, when I didn’t know this woman at all and she was dancing in front of me. If you had told me then that I’d spend an hour and a half talking with her one-on-one, holding her hand, and sharing intimate parts of our lives, I would have been terrified and euphoric just thinking about it. And yet that’s exactly what happened. If you’re sitting in that tender space after a real connection, half hopeful and half braced for it to fade, you’re not alone in it, and sometimes it just helps to talk it through—book a private call with me and we can talk it through together.
That was my best-case scenario. I wouldn’t even say hooking up would have been better, because a woman I respect wouldn’t want to have sex with me immediately after meeting me. This was it. This was exactly what I could have hoped for. The woman I met was very physical in a natural, comfortable way—touching my arm, mirroring me, being open, encouraging, and giving clear positive signals. From our conversation, it felt like we were highly compatible, even though there are certainly things that would need to be discussed and possible reasons she might not want to go out again, or reasons she might worry that I wouldn’t text her. Still, the compatibility felt strong. I kept thinking, what’s the best that could happen? And the honest answer was right there. If she were my new girlfriend, that would be incredible. This was exactly the kind of woman I could imagine as my next girlfriend, my ex-wife, the mother of future children. This was it.
What feels so good as I start driving home is the reflection that this is what the Universe can do. I call my mom on the way home since I didn’t get to see her that day, and I tell her some of what happened. From that wider perspective, it feels like the Universe has a practically unlimited supply of women like this. I think back to just the day before, how excited I was talking with the woman from the spiritual community, and how I even got a few minutes with her again tonight. She told me she liked my outfit, said the shirt looked good on me and matched my eyes, which I wouldn’t have thought of on my own. Driving home, it hit me: this is two days in a row where I’ve had hours-long conversations with women I felt very compatible with and genuinely enjoyed being around.
Of course, she has a boyfriend, which is a very real limitation right now, and it remains to be seen where things go with the woman I met. Still, it all feels like it happened so fast. The woman I met even expressed some concern about how recent my divorce and separation are. At the same time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that women are sort of circling me right now, and eventually one of them is going to decide to step in close. My responsibility is to make sure I get to choose who’s in that circle and who’s actually eligible. I’m grateful that I’ve kept my space open, because she is incredibly beautiful, and there’s so much about her that I already love. What I notice, though, is that the excitement feels grounded. It’s more like, this could go really well, rather than some frantic, uncontained high.
Even if nothing else ever happens with her, this night was beautiful as a standalone experience. At the very least, it feels like we planted strong seeds of friendship. What stands out to me is how much I loved her response and how much I liked my own behavior. I clearly communicated my interest in her. I made authentic comments about how taken I was with her, and she responded positively. I was patient while that guy talked her ear off, trusting that my moment would come, and it did. Sitting with all of that on the drive home felt really good.
By the time I was getting ready for bed, I had so much energy that I was literally shaking. This whole night felt like another reminder of how close I came to missing something really special. I had seriously considered not going at all. I couldn’t even have comprehended how much joy I would have missed by staying home. Missing that conversation would have sucked. What I’m intending now is to keep putting myself in position for moments like this to happen going forward. I’m especially glad I didn’t give in to the temptation to swipe on dating apps, because I’m almost certain the energy of doing that would have sabotaged this night and the connection I had with her. I’m excited and a little nervous to see what happens tomorrow. It feels like I’ve just gone up the first big hill of a roller coaster. The drop is coming next, and it’ll be fun either way. I’ll see how it goes.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Getting Brutally Clear on What I Want
Originally published November 9, 2025.
This is my journal entry from November 9, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I slept restlessly, and my body felt noticeably more responsive than it had in a while, which I was genuinely happy about. I’ve been low-key worried about that side of things lately, so it felt reassuring, almost celebratory. Watching porn the night before clearly flipped some switch, which was both exciting and unsettling at the same time. Still, the reassurance itself mattered more in that moment than the philosophical discomfort around it.
The morning disappeared almost immediately. I took the dogs out and then burned way too much time swiping on dating apps, the kind of time drain that doesn’t even feel good while it’s happening. Eventually I pulled myself together and went to my tennis lesson with my tennis coach. A fellow student couldn’t make it this week, so it was just the two of us. My coach absolutely ran me into the ground, pushing my footwork hard, drilling things my other tennis coach and I had been working on, and getting me into some solid volley practice. It was a great workout, exhausting in the best way, the kind where you can feel your coordination improving even while your legs are screaming.
From there I went straight into hot yoga with one of my yoga instructors. Last time, a staff member at the studio had canceled my reservation at the last minute, and I’d given her a little bit of shit about it. She’s beautiful, and part of me would love to know whether she’s interested in me and even available. Today I told her I just wanted to jump straight into class. I hadn’t booked anything, so there was nothing for her to cancel. I think she enjoyed it as playful teasing, though there’s a chance I pushed it a little too far. Still, she got me into the class even though it was full, and somehow I fit perfectly. I ended up in the back instead of by the door, and it was brutally hot.
The instructor said something during class about thinking how much you respect yourself, and my immediate thought was that if I really respected myself, I’d probably be at home on my ass instead of sweating through hell after already doing an hour of tennis outside. At the same time, I was genuinely happy with myself for being able to handle that much cardio and exertion in a single day. Sweat was pouring off me, and at certain points when I moved, I kept seeing little stars. I think of that sensation as a brownout, the moment right before you faint, except it clears almost immediately, like the blood flow is just a fraction of a second behind. If it ever didn’t clear right away, I know I’d need to get into a safe position and prepare to pass out.
There was a cute girl next to me, someone I hadn’t paid much attention to at first, but during this speed skater pose my mind went hard in a sexual direction for a minute. Very shortly after that, she got up and left. It made me laugh internally. I felt like Steve Urkel from Family Matters, the character famous for sheepishly asking whether he’d caused the chaos around him, accidentally causing chaos just by existing. Probably not, but you never really know. After class, I ran into a friend, and she shared some of her own experiences on the dating apps. She encouraged me to be patient, to be clear about what I want, and to make sure I’m not obsessing over it. That conversation snapped something into focus for me.
I walked away realizing, again, that I need to be brutally clear about what’s non-negotiable. I’d been thinking about it since the speed dating thing last night and into this morning, asking myself what actually matters. I got it down to three things I can openly put out there. First, I want a woman who is athletic. I want someone who can keep up with me physically and is in genuinely good shape. A pretty face is nice, but for me physical health and fitness matter more. That’s just where my attraction is, and I’m being honest about it.
Second, I want a woman who actually wants kids. I am exhausted by the vague, hedged answers—maybe I want kids, I don’t know, probably not, ask me later. I have tried every angle, every workaround, every theoretical alternative, and it always circles back to the same truth. I want a woman who wants children. Not someone tolerating the idea or postponing it indefinitely, but someone who genuinely wants to build a family. That part is not negotiable anymore, and I’m done pretending it might be.
I also want a woman who lives a sober lifestyle. I do not want someone who has to smoke pot every day because life feels too hard to cope with otherwise, or someone who needs a glass of wine every single night just to “unwind.” Develop some coping skills. I am not interested in being the one who teaches you how to emotionally regulate yourself. I want a woman who appreciates sobriety for whatever reason she has, and it doesn’t have to mean absolute abstinence, but I am not willing to deal with weekly drinking rituals, girls’ nights that revolve around alcohol, or the constant normalization of needing substances to get through life. When I see that kind of casual drinking around me, it consistently turns me off, and I just don’t want any part of it. That perspective comes from me being a sober alcoholic, and I know people who aren’t alcoholic may not experience it the same way, but these are my standards. Athletic, wants kids, sober lifestyle. Those are the three things I can publicly put out there without hesitation. If you’ve never gotten brutally clear on your own non-negotiables the way I just did, and you sense that kind of clarity would change how you date, you can book a one-on-one call with me and we’ll work them out together on our call.
There are other things I want too, even if I’m less likely to advertise them upfront. I want a partner who genuinely shares my level of physical desire, where intimacy is something we both want regularly rather than a source of resentment. I’ve heard the horror stories—relationships where the spark disappears almost entirely—and that’s not what I want. I may not lead with this publicly, but I am absolutely bringing it up early in the dating process. I have a normal, healthy sex drive, and I want to be with someone who feels the same. I know what I want now, and that clarity alone simplifies everything.
After talking with my friend, I went home and made a sandwich. Actually, I had several. The night before, I’d taken four plant-based sandwiches home because they were going to throw them away. I ate one that night, then finished the remaining three throughout the day. One became lunch, and later I got on a call with a guy who used to watch my ICP videos. He paid me $300 for an hour of my time, and he pitched an idea that I thought was complete garbage. He wanted to build some app to track a bunch of things that didn’t need tracking. I told him straight up it wasn’t necessary. He said the idea was stuck in his head. I told him most of the ideas that get stuck in my head aren’t good ideas either. They need to be tested, disproven, and discarded so I can move on. Plenty of ideas I was convinced were brilliant completely fell apart the moment I tried them in the real world. That’s just how it works.
I had been so confident that I’d be God’s gift to women. In my head, this was going to be effortless, like flipping a switch. I genuinely believed I’d have no problem finding another woman immediately. Actually trying it out in real life has been sobering. This isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon. In some of my older autobiographies, I talked about how I thought being single again would feel like The Bachelor, with women lining up. That fantasy turned out to be completely inaccurate. There are not women lined up to date me, at least not women I’m attracted to. If I were attracted to a wider range of body types, I could probably have women coming over constantly. They are relentless on these dating apps, posting very sexual photos and making it clear what they want. What’s wild is that some guys seem accustomed to that dynamic, and then they try messaging a woman who actually wants something real, and they have no idea what to do when she’s not immediately propositioning them through the app. If you expected being single again to be effortless and the reality has been humbling, you can schedule a private call with me and we’ll talk through pacing it like the marathon it really is.
I keep thinking about how absurd it all is. If I opened my mind to a wider range of partners, it really might feel like The Bachelor. There are so many people on dating apps, and even more who aren’t on the apps at all. The question is how open can I actually make my mind. I honestly don’t know if it can stretch that far. After that realization, I had another call lined up, about $90, talking with a woman about ICP. I was already in the mood to deal with that kind of nonsense that day. While the call dragged on, I scrolled through my dating apps at the same time because the conversation was slow. I ended up tightening my filters even more, to the point where most days there’s almost nobody who meets them.
On Bumble, I’ve got women set from ages 18 to 41 within 22 miles. I know I’m a niche guy, so I’m willing to go a little farther geographically. For advanced filters, I’ve selected long-term relationship, fun casual dates, marriage, or life partner, and for family plans, open to kids or want kids. I don’t care about the rest of the fluff. I also filter for exercise, no smoking, and for drinking either rarely or not at all. On Hinge, I run basically the same filters, but I only browse women who are active that day, which dramatically cuts down how many profiles I see. A friend told me she met a guy on Hinge, so I take it seriously. On Hinge, I’ve set deal breakers for a maximum distance of 22 miles, age range 18 to 41, monogamy only, and dating intentions focused on a life partner or long-term relationship. I’m not interested in polyamory. It sounds fun in theory, but in reality it just turns into confusion. Family plans are set to want children or might want children, and I’ve set deal breakers for no drugs, no smoking, no marijuana, and no drinking.
With all of that in place, I don’t have many matches to look through on any given day. Tinder is its own mess. You can’t filter nearly as well, and it relies heavily on an algorithm that often shows you people who aren’t even active. I tried setting Tinder to only active profiles, but it’s still rough. I paid for Tinder Platinum, which is about $50 a month. Bumble is costing me $30 a month right now, and I just dropped $100 on the highest-level Hinge subscription for three months. I’m even considering upgrading Bumble for more features. When I step back and look at it, though, it’s still cheaper than blowing money at strip clubs or paying for sex. That’s how I’m rationalizing it. These dating apps, as frustrating as they are, at least have the potential to be worth what I’m spending.
Later, a friend told me he’d read an article on LinkedIn claiming that Facebook Dating is now bigger than Hinge. That immediately annoyed me. The last thing I want to do is sign back up for Facebook. I escaped that place for a reason. I also realized I forgot to mention something earlier: when I was leaving yoga, the staff member I’d been talking to asked for a copy of my book. I gave her one and casually told her my phone number was inside if she wanted to share feedback or comments. That’s something I do with everyone, but it also accomplishes the obvious secondary goal. She has my number now. If she’s interested, she can open the door. My job is just to keep generating leads and see what converts. I’m not trying to contaminate the communities I’m part of by acting like some kind of pickup artist.
After yoga, I went home, cleaned up, showered, ate, and knocked out the calls I had scheduled. That night, I headed to a Tantra speed dating event. As soon as I arrived and looked at the check-in list, I knew how it was going to go. There were roughly twice as many men as women. I sat down and started talking with a man there. One of the guys from the speed dating event the night before was also there, which I found pretty funny. As the women walked in, I watched closely and didn’t see a single attractive woman who looked like she was actually participating in the event. That pretty much sealed it for me. This was likely my last speed dating event. Online dating may be miserable, but at least it doesn’t require hours of your life just to discover that you’re completely incompatible or that there aren’t any women you’re attracted to in the room at all.
He ended up telling me one of the craziest dating stories I’ve heard in a while. He said he recently met a woman online who was very high-powered and intense. They had a couple of dates, and on the second one things took a turn at her place. She wanted to get into some intense role-play that quickly became aggressive and physical in a way he wasn’t comfortable with. At some point he stopped and told her it was too much for him.
According to him, she snapped almost instantly and started screaming at him to leave. The shift was so abrupt and extreme that he was stunned, and he gathered his things and got out as fast as he could. When he finished the story, all I could say was that it was absolutely insane.
That story is exactly why I say no to role-playing until I actually know someone. Someone once told me I was pretty vanilla, and I didn’t disagree. I’m not trying to turn intimacy into some elaborate performance, and I’m not interested in costumes, scripts, or personas. I had a woman over about a week ago who was into “daddy” role-playing, where the man acts like a father figure. I shut that down immediately. I have two kids, and that idea is deeply disturbing to me and one of the biggest turn-offs I can imagine. No thank you. I have a general no-role-playing policy. Maybe there’s fun to be had there for some people, but after hearing his story, that whole world feels unhinged to me.
What he described was completely insane. It also highlighted a double standard that’s hard not to notice. If a man had escalated to that kind of aggression with a woman, he’d likely be arrested, charged, labeled, or worse, while a woman can sometimes get away with behavior like that without any consequences. He told me it felt like she wasn’t even present anymore, like she was replaying some old trauma instead of responding to the actual situation in front of her. People need to deal with their trauma instead of constantly reliving it and dragging unsuspecting partners into it. Hearing all that made me a little more cautious about dating in general, though I don’t believe I’m particularly attracted to women who are that unstable. At least I hope I’m not. If dating has left you more guarded and you want to talk through holding healthy boundaries without shutting down entirely, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me and we’ll work through it together on our call.
The best move he made that night was deciding he was done with the event. He said he had things to do and didn’t want to stick around. The last time he’d attended, there were more women than men, and they’d even paired women together for activities. This time, he could already see where it was headed—men getting paired with men while the remaining women cycled through. He told the event leader he wanted a refund or a credit and that he was leaving. I overheard him and immediately said I wanted the same thing. I was out. The guy sitting next to me joked, “Thanks a lot, we’ll be taking our best two out of the competition.” I told him I was happy to let them battle it out. I wasn’t interested in wasting my time.
The upside was that I got home with time to actually do something productive. I worked on my two books and submitted the Kindle versions of ChatGPT for President and Is Bitcoin One Big Lie? to Amazon. I also fixed the cover for Sober Through Separation. After that, I headed over to spend some time with my ex-wife and the kids. They had just gotten back from their glamping trip and whatever they’d been up to earlier that day, and it felt grounding to end the night there instead of sitting in another pointless circle of forced dating interactions.
I spent the rest of the night hanging out with my ex-wife, the kids, and my mom, which was genuinely nice. My ex-wife told me how the glamping trip had unfolded, and the logistics alone made me grateful I hadn’t gone. The original plan was two tents: one for our family what would have been the four of us—me, my ex-wife, and the kids—while a separate tent was meant for her parents, her sister, and her sister’s daughter. Her sister had just gotten engaged around the same time my ex-wife and I decided to divorce, and then, the morning they were supposed to leave, she announced she was bringing her fiancé, his two kids, and the dog. Literally that morning. Everything had to shift. In the end, my ex-wife’s parents stayed in the tent with her and the kids. Hearing all that, I felt relieved I wasn’t there. I would have felt like an extra, completely unnecessary, and honestly, even if we were still married and everything had been great between us, I wouldn’t have wanted to be in that situation.
My ex-wife’s family is kind, and I do love them, but they aren’t my people. When I’m around them, the conversations stay polite and shallow. There’s no room to be real, no space to talk openly or directly about uncomfortable or intense things. I can’t stand being in situations like that for long. The conversation I’d had earlier with that man—raw, unfiltered, and honest—could never happen with my ex-wife’s family, and that contrast really stood out to me. After that, I took the kids over to visit my mom. She had some nice birthday presents for my ex-wife, and we spent about forty-five minutes there before getting the kids ready for bed.
Later, I walked home and dictated the entries for the seventh and eighth, since I’d fallen a bit behind. Going forward, I want to keep most of these entries shorter. Writing them a day or two later seems to help me cut repetition and focus on what actually matters, even though it does make some details harder to remember. At the same time, the details are what make this interesting in the first place. The little specifics are what bring it to life. I want to avoid rehashing the same themes over and over while still keeping what makes these entries feel real. I’m committed to refining this series and making it as good—and as joyful—as I can.
That said, I’m very aware that I don’t actually know much about anything. My main hope is simply that I keep dictating and don’t stop. I’m also realizing that I want to work on one book at a time—start it, finish it, and move on—because juggling multiple books at once leaves me feeling scattered and overwhelmed. I’ve got several ideas lined up, and I’m even thinking about writing fiction. A lot of people read fiction and fantasy, and I know I could do that too. So yeah, let’s get ready for it.
As the night winds down, my mind drifts, as it often does, toward winding down in my own way. I briefly consider how easily certain habits could become compulsive, stacking stimulation on top of stimulation, and recognize that might be a little much. We’ll see.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Curiosity Is the Only Reason to Keep Going
Originally published November 6, 2025.
This is my journal entry from November 6, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I woke up this morning completely in the shitter. Absolutely miserable. I felt stupid the moment I opened my eyes, like, how the fuck did my life end up here? After a decade of success, praise, and people telling me how great I am, I’m making basically no money. After a decade of patting myself on the back and taking pride in my marriage, I’m single, and nobody I actually want to date wants to date me—at least not that I can see right now. Jesus.
I woke up trying to take the edge off my mood, and it didn’t work. I felt worse afterward. I went over to my ex-wife’s house to pick the kids up for school. I snuggled my son and started crying a little. I was also a bit toxic toward my ex-wife in my head and in my tone. I kept thinking about how much she contributed to this situation. This feels like the worst rejection I’ve ever experienced in my life. I kept wondering why she couldn’t have done more work in the marriage instead of wanting to end it.
I took the kids to school and told them, in the best way I could, how bad I was feeling. They were supportive in that quiet, innocent way kids have. After dropping them off, I called my ex-wife and asked if I could come back to the house to try to take the edge off my mood. I went back and told her I was sorry and that I was just having a really hard morning. She made it clear that she has hard times too, but she doesn’t want to talk about them with me anymore. That hit hard. I felt even worse, like now the friendship is falling apart too.
In my head, things spiraled into a dark place. I felt worn down by how heavy everything had become—this stupid world where everything feels pointless, where your entire life can collapse in a moment, where you go to a speed dating event and walk away feeling nothing but rejection.
The worst part is that this isn’t unique to me. Everyone is dealing with some version of this. I couldn’t stop thinking about the kids, about how much they love me and how much I love them. I thought about my parents and how much they mean to me. I’m grateful I can say these things openly, even to my ex-wife. I’m honestly surprised at how far my emotions swung today.
I eventually went back home and got to work on my books. That helped. I was genuinely happy with the small books that arrived today. I narrated Is Bitcoin One Big Lie? and ChatGPT for President. Both are around twenty-five to thirty pages—tiny books—and they came out perfectly. I’m going to publish them. This feels like a real shift in strategy: putting out lots of small books on diverse topics instead of focusing so heavily on bigger ones. For the diaries, I might keep those larger, but these smaller books give my mind room to explore new areas and test what works.
Around 10:30, it occurred to me that my car might be ready. I called the body shop, and they confirmed that my Toyota Corolla is painted purple and ready for pickup. I called my older friend to see if he was ready to go, and he was, which felt perfect. I drove his car over to pick him up, and then we rode together down to the body shop so I could get my car and he could take his back. When I saw it, the Corolla was dark with a subtle shine—clearly purple, but not loud. It looked beautiful. I felt a genuine rush of satisfaction seeing it repainted, and I was immediately glad I finally did this. Part of the motivation was simple and practical: a ghetto-looking car does not help a man who wants to date. My older friend had encouraged me to do it, and I’m deeply grateful for his support.
I went inside and paid for the paint job, and while we were talking afterward—about many of the same things I’d been saying to my ex-wife—it started to feel like there’s an opportunity for growth here, even if I can’t fully articulate what it is yet. I asked my older friend something heavy. I asked him why, in his seventies, living alone, without a partner, having lost a child, with much of his family scattered, with a body that’s often in pain, he keeps going. He answered without drama: curiosity.
I asked him what he meant by that. He said he’s simply interested in seeing how each day unfolds. Right there, something clicked, and I immediately saw the problem in myself. I’m not curious about anything anymore. I don’t want to approach women because I think I already know what they’re going to say. I don’t want to try much of anything because I think I already know how it will turn out. Fuck it, I tell myself. I already know. And that’s exactly what’s killing me. I know how heavy it gets when you’ve quietly decided you already know how everything will turn out, and if you want to talk your way back to some curiosity about your own next chapter, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me.
What he gave me was the answer, even though it didn’t feel comforting at first. The truth is, I know almost nothing. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Even just looking back over the past few days, I’ve been surprised repeatedly. I had no idea I was going to get dressed up and go out to the Vinoy with him last weekend. I had no idea a woman was going to come over the next night and have sex with me. I had no idea I was going to start writing and publishing these small books. At any moment, something unexpected can happen. Life is genuinely magical when I’m not pretending I already understand it.
I could see that this attitude—this belief that I know everything and know how it’s all going to go—is poisoning me. It’s also deeply arrogant. Who am I to think I understand how everything works, when the evidence clearly says otherwise? Curiosity is something I’ve preached to other people for years, and now I can see that I need a lot more of it myself. Curiosity with dating apps instead of resentment. Curiosity about who I might match with. Curiosity about how an evening might unfold, how each day with my kids will go, how my ex-wife is doing, how my work will progress. I know almost nothing, and that’s not a flaw—it’s an opening. This feels like a real breakthrough, and I’m grateful to my older friend for it.
I drove my newly painted car to the noon power yoga class, and emotionally, I was wrecked. I felt awful. I started crying during yoga, overwhelmed by how stupid I felt. It reminded me of that moment in Pulp Fiction where a character, panicking over an overdose, berates himself for how foolish he’s been. That’s exactly what was running through my head. How is this the same guy who bragged for years about making millions online, about having a great marriage with a beautiful woman and beautiful kids? How am I now single, alone in a house, making no money, bleeding savings?
And yet, even sitting in that pain, something had shifted. The car was purple. The books were real. And for the first time in days, I could feel a crack in the certainty that everything was already over. I talked to my yoga instructor briefly after class, but it felt rushed. He teaches a solid yoga flow, and afterward I didn’t really talk to anyone. I said hi to people like I usually do. A friend was there, so I said hi to him too. Then I walked back to my car. It was 1:11 p.m., and I just sat there. Fuck. I knew exactly what I needed to do, and I didn’t want to do it. I felt like absolute shit. Deeply depressed. I knew I needed to go talk to my yoga instructor.
I remembered how I’d been there for him on days when he was struggling with dating. Days when he felt like he shouldn’t even try because his life wasn’t together yet, like he needed to fix everything before anyone could love him. I had told him that was bullshit. Get out there and date. Lead with what you have. Someone will like you for who you are. And now I needed him to tell me the same thing.
So I went back into the yoga studio. I found my yoga instructor just as he was about to clean the room. I poured my heart out to him. I told him how miserable I was, how fucking stupid I felt about where my life had ended up, and I started crying while I was talking. He didn’t flinch. He comforted me. He told me he appreciated how I’d been there for him. He reminded me that this is normal—divorce, trying to date again, feeling lost. This is how it goes, and it’s okay. He told me I would find someone again someday. He reminded me how he had felt like giving up on dating completely, and then suddenly he matched with the woman he now lives with, someone he’s had so many adventures with. Even then, he said, things are still challenging sometimes.
Talking with him changed everything about my day. I felt dramatically better afterward. It was a real turning point. I was so grateful that early sobriety trained me to do one very important thing: when you feel that bad, get your ass out of isolation and talk to someone who can help you. I got back into my car feeling restored to some level of sanity. That lesson has held up for me over and over, and if you’re in one of those stretches right now where everything feels like it’s already over, I’d be glad to be that person for you when you book a private call with me and we’ll talk it through.
I went home and made a big salad for lunch, finishing off the kale I’d bought from Rollin’ Oats. Then I went to pick the kids up, feeling noticeably lighter. Thank God I talked with him instead of sitting alone and spiraling. I’m sure he felt good too, being given the chance to help me. I know I always love when people give me that chance. Over the years, a lot of people going through divorce have poured their hearts out to me. I wonder where they all are now. Maybe I’ll run into some of them again.
The kids loved the purple color of my Corolla. They were genuinely excited riding home in it. My ex-wife also liked it and said the color looked good without being flashy. After that, I went to my 4:00 p.m. meeting. There were about nine of us there, a mix of old-timers and a few newer guys. Several people had more sobriety than me. I read a passage thanking the old-timers for showing up, and I shared how grateful I am for the men who stayed sober my entire adult life. They kept going to meetings year after year, and when I needed them desperately at twenty-nine and thirty, they were there. They had been training, whether they knew it or not, and they helped save me.
After the meeting, I came home and downloaded the dating apps again. All right. Back on Bumble and Hinge. I worked with ChatGPT to make my profile a little less serious, then started swiping. It didn’t take long before I’d basically gone through everyone. And that’s when something clicked. After the woman who came over a week ago showed up smelling like pot the entire time—even though she hadn’t smoked at my place, just earlier in the day—I realized how much I hated it. That was enough clarity. I don’t want to be with someone who drinks, does drugs, or smokes pot. If that’s true, then I need to actually look for sober women. That’s the lane.
I set the filters as carefully as I can to try to find sober women. As I’m scrolling, I see a woman I recognize, someone I haven’t seen in a while. That stops me for a moment. I think, this could actually work. I realize I need to approach dating apps like a marathon, not a sprint. Keep the filters narrow. Check the apps once or twice a day instead of compulsively. Don’t make swiping the focus. Just be available and ready if the right person shows up, or notice people I already know so I can approach them in real life with some context.
I head to the tennis clinic at the tennis club and have a good time playing with three other guys and a fellow tennis player. It’s a solid workout, lots of drills, the usual rhythm, and I enjoy myself. Afterward, I go home, shower, and decide to download Tinder too. Why not? I go over to my ex-wife’s to be with the kids for bedtime and see my mom, then come back home and finish setting up my Tinder profile. I spend about $50 on the Platinum membership and swipe through every profile within eleven miles that fits my search criteria. By the time I’m done, I’ve literally run out of profiles for the day.
I see another woman I recognize, this one I’d seen around before, and I send her a short message. I get a couple of likes on Tinder, which at least confirms I’m not invisible, but none of them are really what I’m looking for. One is a daily pot smoker in Bradenton, and if it weren’t for that, I might have swiped right. But that’s a hard no for me now. I’m not dealing with that.
When I go to bed, I notice something has shifted in what I find myself drawn to. I catch myself thinking, yeah, I’m ready for older women. That realization is surprisingly meaningful. I fall asleep around 11:30 p.m., feeling tired, slightly steadier, and at least pointed in a clearer direction than I was earlier in the day.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
No More Middlemen
Originally published October 5, 2025.
This is my journal entry from October 5, 2025, part of my daily autobiography The Kind Divorce — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I woke up this morning with a burst of excitement about a new business idea that feels like it perfectly fits this next chapter of my life. I spent much of the day thinking about agents, publishers, and how the traditional book world operates. The more I researched, the more conflicted I felt.
Technically, I could pitch three or four different manuscripts right now. For nonfiction, that’s all you really need: a proposal, not even a finished book. I kept reading about how advances work, how royalties are split, and what kind of control authors have. And the more I learned, the more I thought back to the analogy I made in I Was Famous on the Internet about middlemen who take most of the reward from the people doing the real work.
Submitting my book to a publisher means they’d take around 90% of the profit while giving me 10%. If that’s not the same dynamic I was trying to escape from in the online world, I don’t know what is. It feels like another version of being someone else’s product—of selling my work through a system designed to take most of the reward away from the creator. I’ve said it a hundred times lately: I’m tired of middlemen.
What I want is a system that cuts out as many intermediaries as possible, where I have full creative control and keep most of what I earn. Right now, that looks like self-publishing and focusing locally. The internet can still distribute my books, but my real business will be personal, intimate, and offline.
As I brainstormed, I thought about offering something like a board game night—three people paying $30 each to come hang out and play games with me. But the more I thought about it, the less appealing it sounded. Group events come with headaches: scheduling, uncertainty about attendance, different personalities. It’s just not the vibe I want.
What truly excites me is one-on-one connection. That’s what I already pay the most for myself—whether in massage, coaching, or therapy. And that’s what feels most natural for me to offer. So, after hours of bouncing ideas back and forth with ChatGPT and mulling it over, I landed on something that feels perfect: Invite people over to my house for a two-hour experience and charge $222.
Each person could decide what they want those two hours to be. It could be coaching, conversation, games, lunch, brainstorming, or something more creative. Every session would be unique, but the structure would stay simple and repeatable. I’d only do one session per day to keep it special and prevent burnout, with multiple times available for people to choose from.
For example, one person might book a lunch slot and spend two hours eating and talking with me about their goals. Another might book an evening session—say, 6 p.m. to 8 p.m.—to play a board game and talk about life. Someone else might want help dictating their own book or finding direction after a major life transition. A parent might even book a session for their child who’s struggling with internet addiction so I could share my story and offer perspective from someone who’s lived it.
It feels like such a natural extension of who I am—part friend, part mentor, part storyteller. People already tell me they wish they could just sit down and talk for a while. A reader from the tennis club even left a five-star review for Author in St. Petersburg on Amazon and said he had so many questions he wanted to ask me. I thought, Perfect—that’s exactly who this offering is for.
Imagine if a reader could book two hours at my house, maybe over dinner or a board game, where we talk about everything he’s curious about. It would be fun, authentic, and valuable for both of us. And because it’s at my home, it creates a relaxed, personal atmosphere—something most people never get from formal coaching or events. I’ve always preferred going to other people’s homes for sessions too. There’s something about being in a personal space that opens people up.
What’s incredible is how simple and sustainable this could be. If I charged $222 and only did one session per day, that would be enough to easily afford the four-bedroom, three-bath house across the street. I wouldn’t even need to depend on book sales or publishing advances. Just real, human connection—one person at a time.
It feels like the first business idea I’ve had in a long time that truly aligns with who I am now: no middlemen, no performance, no digital noise. Just honest conversations, meaningful experiences, and enough income to live comfortably doing what I love.
I’m really grateful for the clarity I have now around my books and business direction. The more I thought about agents today, the more obvious it became that I don’t want to go down that path. I want to publish my books as fast as possible and get them out into the world—not spend months or years sending queries to agents who already receive thousands of submissions and barely read most of them.
I’m done trying to stand out in competitive environments. They drain my energy. The traditional publishing process feels like another version of that—doing endless busywork, jumping through hoops, waiting around for approval. Even if I were to land a book deal with a $30,000 or $40,000 advance for I Was Famous on the Internet, it could still take years before the book actually hit shelves. And once it did, would it even be my book anymore? Would I have to edit parts to make them more politically correct or palatable to some corporate editor’s idea of what readers can handle? I can’t imagine anything worse than putting my voice through a committee of gatekeepers again.
That’s what I ran away from in the first place—the endless middlemen. Who even cares now whether a book is traditionally published or self-published? I don’t. And the people who read my work certainly don’t. They care about truth, not logos. What I really want is the most local kind of book distribution possible—handing my books to people in person, watching their reactions, having real conversations. I even ran the numbers with ChatGPT and it projects I will make more money focusing local over the next decade than going with traditional publishers.
This morning, I woke up feeling deeply grateful to be spending what might be my last week in the house with my ex-wife and the kids. They went down the street to her parents’ house for pancakes while I started moving things into my new place. Around 8:30 a.m., I hauled one of the wooden chests my dad made—loudly rattling it down the street on a furniture mover. Then I packed my car with more stuff: a few boxes of my books, the AeroGarden, and another one of Dad’s handmade chests.
My dad never published books, but he was a creator in his own right. He made furniture—real, solid pieces that might last a century—and he always signed each one with his name, the year, and the location he built it. I love that thirty-plus years later, I’m still using his creations daily. That’s exactly what I want my books to be: something lasting, physical, meaningful. That’s what my videos never were. They lived for a moment, then disappeared into the algorithm. My books will be here long after I’m gone.
I’m genuinely excited to move into my new house now. I’m even more excited about dating again—about channeling that romantic energy into life, meeting someone new, feeling inspired. I know it’s going to generate amazing material for future books.
Later in the morning, I went to the 10 a.m. yoga class at my yoga studio. I arrived a few minutes early and stood at the back of the room, scanning for a good spot to put my mat. After about two minutes of observation, I settled on a spot next to a man from yoga, who I’ve known for years. We’ve shared probably fifty or a hundred yoga classes, plus other events, so it felt comfortable.
To a man from yoga’s right was a woman who caught my eye—attractive, a little thicker but muscled, confident, with a warm, natural presence. She had short hair, a healthy glow, and skin complexion very close to mine. From the back of the room, I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which was later confirmed when I walked up.
I wanted to test out my “pickup energy” again—to see how I carried myself now that I’m actually single and available. I set my mat down beside her and settled in. She didn’t make direct eye contact, but when I was looking for a place to set up, she had looked back in my direction—just briefly, but enough for me to feel that moment of acknowledgment.
I know some people would call that reading too much into things, but I trust the subtle cues between people. I believe in telepathic connection, in energy exchange that happens before words. Most people are too distracted to notice it, but when you pay attention, it’s real. I’ve learned to trust it over the years—and while I don’t always get it perfectly right, I’ve confirmed enough of those instincts to know they matter.
A yoga instructor led a great flow that morning—grounded, smooth, and energizing. I left feeling proud of how open and alive I felt again. It was nice to just be in the room, breathing, moving, noticing. For the first time since the divorce chat, I felt overcome with curiousity about who I might meet next.
After the 75-minute yoga class, I decided I would pay close attention to the girl next to me to see if she showed any body language suggesting interest in talking. If she did, I’d go for it—just start a natural conversation, stay present, and really listen.
Almost immediately after class ended, she gave me one of the clearest signals I could imagine. She turned her whole body toward me and sat cross-legged, facing directly in my direction, even though we hadn’t made eye contact or exchanged a single word. To me, that was about as direct a green light as I could get.
So, I talked to her. We started chatting, and I found out she plays tennis—which instantly made me light up. I love tennis, so I asked if she’d like to play sometime. She said she and her husband both play and offered to exchange numbers. I took her up on it.
I laughed and told her that I’d spent a year getting my ex-wife into tennis and that she’d just started playing too. It felt a little funny saying that, given that I’m technically still married but already emotionally single. I’m in that in-between space where I can honestly say, “I can be married or single, whatever you want.”
It felt a bit abrupt to hear her mention her husband, but I didn’t let it throw me off. I’m happy to play tennis with anyone, especially someone friendly and fun. I’d gladly hit with her husband too. What I want more than anything right now is to play—more actual matches, less time spent on lessons. Lessons have been great, but sometimes they get in the way of just enjoying the game.
After class, I felt electric. Confident. Alive. It’s like my “pickup energy,” that ability to approach someone new, is sharper and freer than it’s ever been. I have no hesitation anymore. If I walk into a room and see a girl I find attractive and I sense she’s open, I can easily start a conversation, stay connected, and ask for her number if it feels right. And if she’s married or not interested, that’s fine too. What I love most is how open I feel now—to connection, to possibility, to whoever’s meant to walk into my life next. Whether it’s a tennis partner, a friend, or someone who ends up in my next book, I just want to keep following those sparks when I feel them.
When I get home, I make a simple lunch—noodles with vegan butter and seasoning—since there’s barely any food left in the house. Our plan for the day is to restock at Whole Foods and Target, then take the kids to visit Roxanne, the dog we used to have before she went back to her foster family. We’d adopted Roxanne and her sister Melanie together for a few months, but the sisters started fighting. Roxanne began biting Melanie, and we eventually chose to return her. The foster family ended up adopting her themselves, and they’ve taken great care of her. They live over in a nearby town, so we plan to visit after shopping.
At Whole Foods, I let both kids take their own carts. It’s adorable watching them fill them up like little adults, choosing what they want. I tell myself I’m not going to nitpick. They can pick almost anything. We end up buying a bottle of fresh-squeezed orange juice for $19, which tastes incredible but makes me laugh at how overpriced it is compared to the $5 bottles sitting right next to it.
We stock up—hummus, a couple of frozen pizzas, chicken noodle soup from the hot bar, and tons of fruits and vegetables. When it’s time to check out, both kids insist on using the self-checkout. Each one picks a register, and they scan everything themselves. I help my son with bagging while my daughter insists on doing hers entirely solo.
My daughter’s total comes to $160, and my son’s is $186. As I watch the totals climb, I feel that little flicker of fear about money. I have almost nothing coming in right now, and here I am dropping $350 on groceries. My mind starts whispering that I should be worried—but I push the thought away. I remind myself that money has always shown up when I needed it, and it will again. I’m paying with credit anyway, and if something changes, I’ll adjust. For now, I trust the Universe—and I’m grateful to be able to feed my family good food.
After Whole Foods, we head over to a foster family’s house in a nearby town. It’s great seeing her, her husband, and their kids again—and of course, seeing Roxanne. She’s still as loving as ever, a German Shepherd–Shar Pei mix with that classic shepherd face and a little of the Shar Pei’s loose skin around her neck. She recognizes us right away and does her signature move—leaning her body against us like she’s giving a hug. It’s such a sweet, grounding feeling.
The kids take turns petting her and laughing. A foster family’s son shows my son the RV trailer their family just bought for $10,000. It’s surprisingly spacious—room for four to sleep, plus a kitchen and bathroom with a shower. I can’t help thinking how practical it would be to have something like that myself. I imagine parking one in my mom’s yard or in my ex-wife’s backyard—my own little minimalist home.
But when we meet my ex-wife later at Target, I bring up the trailer idea, and she shoots it down immediately. She’s right, though. It’s fun to fantasize about, but not realistic. Setting one up would require thousands of dollars for plumbing and electrical connections, not to mention maintenance. It’s not the life I want to build right now. Still, I’m glad I let myself dream for a moment. Sometimes even a fleeting idea can make the whole day feel lighter.
At Target, my ex-wife grabs one of those huge carts where both kids can sit in the back with a full-sized basket in the front. It’s one of those carts that can do a full 360-degree spin—it looks ridiculous but handles like a dream. The kids love it. We start in the home section where the diffusers are buy-one-get-one-free, so we each grab one. My ex-wife insists on paying for both, which is sweet of her. I also pick up a new tennis racket for $25—nothing fancy, but it feels solid and I could use a backup. My ex-wife gets one too. She double-checks that there’s no one else I’d rather rotate onto the family membership at the tennis club, and I tell her of course not. She’s just paid for the last couple of months herself and will be covering the next month or two as well. Plus, she’ll be taking the kids there often, and we can all use the pool.
My son and I had thought about going to the tennis club tonight, but it starts raining, so we head home instead. I also grab a lava lamp while we’re at Target—something about it just feels fun and nostalgic. It’s been at least ten years since I’ve had one. I set it up in the new house along with the diffuser and some essential oils to help mask the faint smoke smell that lingers from whoever lived there before. The owner did a good job cleaning, but there’s still that unmistakable stale edge in the air. Between the diffuser and the lava lamp’s slow-moving glow, the place already feels more alive. My son’s fascinated watching the lava heat up, waiting for the first bubbles to rise.
After setting everything up, we walk over to my mom’s house. The kids immediately dive into their favorite activity there—drawing. My mom has an incredible stash of markers, colored pencils, and art supplies, enough to keep them entertained for hours without screens. It’s one of my favorite things to see: their creativity bursting out in real time.
Tonight, they’re drawing pictures of my mom’s dog, Scooby, in different seasons. My son draws “Summer Scooby” first, then makes a copy on the printer so he can take one home while my mom keeps the original. I love moments like this—quiet, simple, full of warmth and imagination.
At one point, I tell my son I want to split an ice cream sandwich with him. I explain that I don’t want the whole thing, but I do love a few bites for the taste. This turns into an impromptu life lesson on diminishing returns. I tell the kids that, for me, the first three bites of something sweet are always the best—after that, you’re mostly just getting fat and not even enjoying it anymore. To make it more fun, I give them an example: “Imagine if I gave you $15 the first time you farted, then $10 the next time, then $5, and then only $1 for every fart after that.” The kids burst out laughing while my mom rolls her eyes in mock disapproval.
We share the Oreo ice cream sandwich—two Oreo cookies with Oreo ice cream in between. I take three bites, hand it off to my son, and feel completely satisfied. The first bite was the best, the second and third were still good, but beyond that would’ve just been excess. Sometimes the sweet spot in life really is just three bites. It’s small, silly moments like this—teaching, laughing, eating ice cream with my son—that make all the heaviness of the divorce and moving out fade for a while. Tonight, everything feels strangely balanced again. Building a well-rounded life like this—kids, recovery, work, and real friends all in the mix—is exactly what I love helping people with, and you’re welcome to book a private call with me to build yours.
After leaving my mom’s house, I walk back across the street with the kids. Just as we get home, my sponsee calls and says he wants to go to a meeting tonight. I tell him I’d prefer to meet somewhere closer to my house. I’m tired of my old home group—it’s gotten repetitive—and I want to go somewhere with a true open discussion. He agrees, so we meet at a different group I used to attend.
The room is full, mostly newcomers. The topic for the night is letting go and moving on, which couldn’t be more perfect given everything I’m going through. When it’s my turn to share, I talk about the divorce again, how grateful I am to be sober through it, and how much easier it is to get divorced sober than to get sober while married.
By the time I finish, I’ve taken at least four or five minutes, but it feels worth it. I tell the group that, if you round to the nearest thousand dollars, I’m currently making zero dollars a month—and I have no idea exactly how I’m going to afford the rent for my new house. But I’m sure I’ll figure it out. And I say, “I sure as hell am not going to apply for a job.” The whole room bursts out laughing. That laughter feels good—it’s connection, not judgment. A few guys come up after and say they want my number, saying things like, “You’re an unusual guy.”
They’re right. I am unusual. It reminds me of the song Unusual, whose hook has stuck with me even though I haven’t heard it in years. That’s the kind of stickiness I want my books to have—something people remember long after they’ve closed the pages.
After the meeting, I come home, get the kids settled, and put them to bed. I’m honestly looking forward to having my own place partly so I can have my own private space without feeling awkward about being in my ex-wife’s house.
Once I’ve showered, my ex-wife comes out from putting the kids to bed, and we talk about my new business plan. I tell her how grateful I am that ChatGPT helped me think through what I really want to do—stay local, focus on my books, and offer something personal. What I want to sell is simple: two hours with me. I see the funnel clearly now. First, I give someone a book. The book inspires them to visit my website. And my website leads them straight to scheduling a one-on-one session with me.
I think about one of the studio’s co-owners at The my yoga studio. She’s hosting an event at her house on November 11th—twelve people for a two-hour meditation and sound bath in her garden. Tickets are $25 each. And while that’s nice, I’d personally rather pay $300 to have those same two hours with her alone. That’s the difference between a group experience and a one-on-one. You can make the same money, but the intimacy—the depth—is entirely different. Groups get tricky. One-on-one is where the real magic happens.
It hits me: that’s exactly what I need to offer. For anyone who’s read my books this far, what they probably want most is just to talk—to connect directly, privately, without distractions. No two or three other people. No performance. Just an open, honest conversation.
That’s also where I shine the most. In one-on-one settings, people can really open up. They can ask me anything, say anything, and I can do the same. If you’ve read my books, you already know how raw I am on the page. Imagine that same energy in person. That’s the experience I want to sell—and the one I’m most excited to give. I’m grateful tonight because I’ve consistently felt upbeat and genuinely excited for the future. After a week of emotional turbulence, I finally feel like my normal self again, which is such a blessing.
At the meeting tonight, there was a fellow member I’ve known for six or seven years. As she shared, I could hear the pain and fury in her voice—she said she felt filled with anger and completely out of control. She wrapped up her share with a sharp “and that’s it,” but when someone thanked her, she said she wasn’t actually finished. The timing made it sound like he was cutting her off, and she got upset. She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
I thought about getting up to talk with her, to see if I could help calm her down, but I sensed she wasn’t open to that yet. Some people need to burn through the emotion first before they can hear anyone else.
After the meeting, I talked with another fellow member I’ve known for years. I told her I felt like the opposite of the angry woman from earlier tonight. Even with a divorce underway and financial uncertainty hanging over me, I still feel extremely grounded and centered. It’s such a contrast to those chaotic, uncontrollable emotional states I used to live in.
I told her that the only reason I’m able to feel this peaceful now is because back when I was in those angry states, I made a firm decision that I didn’t want to live that way anymore—and I started doing whatever it took to stop. That decision built the life I have now, where I can feel every emotion fully without losing control of my mind or my body.
When I asked her how she’d been, she said, “Well, we’ve only got today anyway.” I smiled and told her she was right—but that momentum really helps. I could tell she felt uncomfortable, and I remembered the last time we’d talked, months ago, when she told me about her partner. I realized the man sitting next to her tonight was him. She seemed surprised I remembered.
I reminded her that one of the most important parts of recovery, at least for me, is rigorous honesty. If someone asks how long you’ve been sober, the honest thing to do is just answer. It’s crazy how often people hide their number of days sober out of fear of judgment. But if you can’t even tell the truth about that, how can you stay sober by living an honest program?
That’s usually why people dodge the question. Still, I hope she finds her footing. What strikes me most isn’t any particular setback—it’s that I don’t always see a real desire for the struggle to end. That’s the crazy thing about suffering: sometimes we think we want it to stop, but deep down there’s a part of us that clings to it. It’s familiar. It’s dramatic. It gives us an identity.
The real shift happens when you can see that part of yourself clearly—when you recognize the part that loves to suffer—and ask, Who is that? Is that really me? Do I actually want to keep living this way? For me, the answer is no. I’ve learned that I can choose to stop suffering whenever I’m ready. The clearest sign that I’ve made that choice is when I reach out for help. Because the moment I ask for help, I’ve already stopped feeding the pain. I’ve already started healing. If you’re ready to reach out for help with something you’ve been carrying, you can set up a call with me and we’ll talk it through together.
Continuing
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Walking Away to Make Room for My Real Work
Originally published September 21, 2025.
This is my journal entry from September 21, 2025, part of my daily autobiography The Kind Divorce — my real, unedited days, published in order.
Today feels like a turning point—the day to decide whether or not I’ll officially cancel massage school. I’m leaning heavily toward yes, but I want to talk with my friend a friend first, the same person who originally encouraged me to become a massage therapist. Before making any big decisions, I start the morning by cleaning up around the house, putting things in order. Then I head to the 10 a.m. Sunday class at my yoga studio Yoga.
After class, I run into one of the women I’d given a copy of Author in St. Petersburg to. She told me she’d read the first sixty pages and found it unlike anything she’d ever read. She said the book’s level of honesty shocked her—how I wrote openly about sex, video game addiction, alcoholism, marriage, life coaching, and quitting my business online. She said most people would never share that much of themselves, and that reading it made her both fascinated and uncomfortable.
She admitted that the discomfort came from fear—fear of how people might react to that kind of raw honesty. She told me that fear of people was a bigger theme in her life too. She often stays home, isolated, keeping up with the world by watching the news or scrolling through social media, afraid to really engage. As she spoke, I realized that my own fear of giving out my books falls into that same category—fear of people. My books are so vulnerable and unfiltered that every time I hand one to someone, I feel exposed. I worry about their reactions, about triggering someone, about being judged for writing so openly about the parts of life most people hide.
Still, I told her that while I understand that fear, there’s something I find far scarier: living my whole life in fear. I said that to me, it’s much worse to reach your deathbed and realize you never truly lived because you spent your entire existence playing it safe. I’d rather risk rejection, embarrassment, or discomfort than live a half-life built around survival instincts. I mentioned a line I’d once heard from another book—someone wondering on their deathbed, What if I lived my life all wrong? That question haunts me. It’s what pushes me to be brave enough to live honestly.
Yes, I’m afraid of how people might react to my books. But that fear is part of what gives them meaning. This whole experience—this life—is temporary, and the only thing that makes it worthwhile is living it fully, not cautiously.
After that conversation, I talked with a friend, another friend from the yoga community, and he gave me one of the most memorable compliments I’ve ever received. He said that in his sixty-eight years on Earth, he’s met thousands of people, and only five have ever truly surprised him. I was one of them. He said most people are predictable—you talk to them for a few minutes, and you can already tell what they believe, what they’ll say next, and what opinions they’ll hold. But I didn’t fit that pattern.
That meant a lot to me. I didn’t even know what I’d done to surprise him, but I was grateful for the reflection because I feel the same way. I love being surprised by people who break the mold—people who don’t just echo what they’ve heard, who don’t live inside a single ideology or identity. Most people, once they tell you what they read, watch, or listen to, have already revealed everything else about their worldview. But I love when someone keeps me guessing, when they’re alive in their own way of thinking.
A friend’s compliment reminded me that I am that kind of person too—unpredictable, alive, and not just nodding along to what others say. I’m constantly reflecting, questioning, and creating. And maybe that’s what surprises people most: that I’m not afraid to think for myself, to live out loud, and to be honest about every part of it.
After coming home from yoga, I called a friend, and we talked for over an hour. Most of the conversation was about massage and the real-life experience of working as a therapist. A friend had just graduated from the massage school and recently started working at a spa. She told me that last week she did fourteen massages in two days and then had to take two full days off to recover. That alone said a lot. She reminded me that school only gets harder from here—clinics, longer sessions, more pressure.
A friend made a point to say that she still believes I could be a great massage therapist. She said that again with the same conviction she had a month ago when she first inspired me to enroll. But the practical reality for me has become clear: being a massage therapist just doesn’t make sense compared to writing books and helping other people create theirs.
After talking to ChatGPT last night, then discussing things with my ex-wife this morning, I know where my energy belongs. Writing and publishing feel like my purpose. Giving someone a book—whether it’s mine or one I helped them write—feels like transferring a part of my soul, a massive exchange of energy. Strangely, giving a massage never felt that way to me. I expected it to, but even though I was physically closer to people in massage school, it often felt less personal. Especially after reading the ethics material, which basically encourages therapists to keep things impersonal, the contrast became even sharper. Books, on the other hand, are deeply personal. They connect minds, hearts, and experiences across time. That’s what I want to do with my life. If you feel that same pull to live more honestly and put your real life into your own words, you can schedule a private call with me and we’ll build it together.
Later in the day, I stopped by Whole Foods and ran into my yoga instructor from my yoga studio and her girlfriend. I told her I’d be back in her yoga classes now that I’d left massage school. She smiled and said something like, “It’s nice that you tried,” and I agreed. That’s exactly how I see it. I’m grateful for the experience—it broke up my usual rhythm and gave me new perspective—but I have zero interest in going back tomorrow.
It also felt great to skip the 7 p.m. AA meeting tonight. I’m planning to go to plenty more soon—probably seven in a row, maybe even twelve over the next couple of weeks—but tonight I just wanted space. Instead, I spent a couple of hours editing I Was Famous on the Internet, and it felt incredible. I could easily spend five or ten hours a day working on books and feel completely fulfilled.
I loved diving back into the manuscript, especially with my new mindset: one single pass, then publish. I’ll save further edits for later, based on reader feedback or when I eventually record the audiobook. Sometimes it’s hard to edit something right after you’ve written it—you’re too close to it. But tonight, it felt right. Focused. Final. Like I’d made the right choice in every way.
When my ex-wife came in for bedtime, we ended up talking for two hours—one of those long, deep conversations that touched everything: our sex life, our fears, and the patterns that have shaped our relationship. She told me she’s still afraid of me because of how I’ve behaved in the past. I listened and then reminded her that I’m not afraid of her. That fear isn’t something I carry toward her, and it’s something she’ll need to work through on her side. I told her honestly that I enjoy our relationship and want it to feel safe and loving for both of us.
She was frustrated about something I’d said earlier—what she called an ultimatum about having sex every day. I explained that what I meant wasn’t rigid or demanding. I wasn’t saying it had to be every day. What I wanted was a happy, playful, regular sex life—something we both look forward to. Lately, she’s been showing up consistently, which I appreciate, but too often it feels like she’s just going through the motions, doing it out of obligation. That kind of energy kills the joy for me. I told her I want our intimacy to feel alive, fun, and spontaneous—not heavy, resentful, or mechanical.
I also clarified that for me, consistency matters—not perfection. It doesn’t have to be daily, but I’d like it to be more days than not. To me, a thriving sex life is something you practice regularly. It doesn’t have to look the same each time or even involve the same kind of connection. I’m open to all kinds of experiences—what matters most is that it’s shared, that we both feel good, and that it’s infused with joy rather than pressure.
To explain what I meant, I made an analogy with tennis. I told her about my match with a friend—the one where I tried too hard to win because I was afraid that if I didn’t keep it competitive, he wouldn’t want to play with me anymore. I was so focused on performing that I stopped having fun, and ironically, I played terribly. The next day, I had a breakthrough. I decided to stop caring about winning altogether. I just wanted to enjoy the game. The moment I relaxed, my shots started landing, and I played better than ever.
I told my ex-wife I think the same dynamic applies to our sex life. She’s trying too hard. She’s putting so much pressure on herself to meet expectations—her own and mine—that it’s strangling the fun. I told her to just relax, to stop overthinking it, and to show up with curiosity instead of anxiety.
She said, “I can’t do that. It’s high stakes. Our marriage could fall apart if this doesn’t work.”
And that’s when it clicked for me. I told her she’s doing the same thing I did with a friend. She’s afraid of failing, afraid that if she can’t keep up with me sexually, I’ll leave. I said that’s exactly why she can’t relax—because she’s playing not to lose instead of playing to have fun. I told her the only way to truly enjoy it is to let go of that fear, even if it means facing the worst-case scenario.
I said, “If you can’t have fun with me—if you can’t show up joyfully and playfully in our sex life—then maybe we should get divorced because I want to be with someone who can match that energy.” It’s not that I want a divorce—it’s that the metaphor fits. Like tennis, it’s about compatibility and joy. If a friend and I couldn’t have fun together on the court, we’d both be better off playing with other partners. The same principle applies to marriage, even if it’s much harder to face.
My ex-wife said, “But it’s not like tennis. You can’t just walk away from a marriage that easily.”
I agreed. “You’re right,” I said. “It’s not easy. But it’s the same idea. We must relax and enjoy each other, or there’s no point.” I meant it from a place of love, not threat. I want our relationship to feel light again—to be something we both play, not something we endure.
I told my ex-wife that, sure, in the worst-case scenario, if I play tennis and don’t have fun for an hour or two, it’s not the end of the world. If a friend and I stop enjoying it, we can simply stop playing. But in our marriage, if my ex-wife and I keep showing up to the bedroom and neither of us feels fulfilled—if our sex life feels forced or empty—that’s far more painful. It’s like I’m “winning” all the time in tennis terms, but she can’t keep up, and she’s only there out of obligation because I want someone to play with. That’s not what I want for either of us.
I told her that, ultimately, it would be better for us to split up than to keep showing up for something that isn’t joyful. Our happiness must come first. If that means we both eventually find other people who make us feel alive and connected again, that’s still better than staying stuck in a pattern of misery. I said this calmly, not as a threat, but as a truth about what a relationship should be—two people choosing joy together, not enduring it separately. If you’re sitting with a hard decision like this in your own relationship, you’re welcome to schedule a one-on-one call with me and talk it through honestly with me.
Ironically, once we reached that level of honesty, something shifted. The tension dissolved, and a sense of playfulness returned between us. We shared a light, fun, and surprisingly intimate moment together. That simple moment of connection meant a lot—not just physically, but emotionally.
I found myself deeply grateful for my ex-wife’s ability to stay present in such a vulnerable conversation. That’s one of the things I find most attractive about her. We can discuss hard things—sex, fear, resentment, uncertainty—and still keep our hearts open. We didn’t spiral into argument or drama. We stayed connected, aware, and loving. That’s rare.
When I see other attractive women now, I often think about that. Could you have a difficult discussion with love and self-awareness? Could you hold space for the hardest truths and still laugh afterward? That’s the kind of connection I value most.
By the end of the night, both of us felt peaceful and close. We didn’t get to bed until after midnight, but we went to sleep happy—grateful for each other and ready to bring more love and joy into our relationship moving forward.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
When the Rules Crushed My Vision
Originally published September 20, 2025.
This is my journal entry from September 20, 2025, part of my daily autobiography The Kind Divorce — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I think I finally figured out what’s been wrong. This morning I went to my 8:30 AA meeting and had a nice time sharing and connecting with people. Three people said they’d be coming to the new AA meeting I just started, which is now officially listed in the Where & When and in the AA app online. That made me genuinely happy—it felt like the group was becoming real. Still, when I got home afterward, I was hit with the same heavy sadness. I couldn’t shake it. My mood has been unusually low for days now, and I still couldn’t tell exactly why.
Later, I met up with a friend to play tennis, hoping some movement would help. We played at a park. I was so down I barely cared, and it showed—I lost the first set 6–1. I was relaxed from all the massages yesterday but emotionally stuck, torn between wanting to play well and not wanting to force it. When a friend went up 3–0 in the second set, something in me snapped. I said, “Fuck it.” I decided to stop caring about winning or losing. I even said to myself, I hope I hit every shot out. I just wanted to have fun again.
I threw my shirt off—it’s a public park, so I could—and suddenly something shifted. The moment I stopped trying, I started playing beautifully. My shots flowed naturally, faster and cleaner. I came back to tie the set. A friend needed a few games to adjust because I was now hitting everything in with power and confidence. I even hit one shot so hard that even though he was way back at the baseline, he could barely get his racket on it. The ball exploded off his strings and shot away helplessly. It caught him completely off guard because I’d been playing so casually until then. That was the first game he lost all set.
I won a few more games before he regained his rhythm and barely edged out the win 6–4. Still, it was so much more fun once I’d stopped caring. We both laughed a lot, especially when a friend started clowning around. On one point, he actually hit the ball using a granny-style basketball motion from underneath with his racket and somehow won the point. We couldn’t stop laughing.
After the match, I got home a little after two, ate some guacamole, showered, and sat down to start working on my ethics assignment for massage school. We have an Ethics for Massage Therapists booklet we print online, and I needed to finish reading and answering the questions before Monday. It’s our first real homework. I’d wanted to study for the upcoming anatomy and physiology quiz, but there was too much reading here to ignore, so I dove into ethics first.
That’s when everything started to click—and not in a pleasant way. As I read, I started to feel both awful and enlightened at the same time. The ethics book talked about how massage therapists must maintain clear boundaries and avoid personal or emotionally intimate relationships with clients. It said we shouldn’t think of clients as friends or discuss personal topics like sex, relationships, money, or health. As soon as I read that, my stomach sank. I realized just how consistently I’ve pushed those boundaries over the years.
I love connecting with people deeply, and I’ve always seen my therapists as friends. I often open up about very personal things, and over time I’ll even tell them that I love them. Most of the time, they say they love me too. Reading the ethics material made me see how complicated—and inappropriate—that dynamic can be. I thought about how I consistently tip excessively, giving $100 on a 90-minute massage when the therapist might only be getting paid $30-something from the spa. The average client probably tipps $30 or $40, so my tips made me their best-paying customer by far. That inevitably created pressure for them to please me, to go along with whatever direction the conversation took, even if it crossed boundaries.
Sometimes, those blurred lines led to disaster. A therapist would start unloading their own problems onto me—dumping their personal drama during the session because they felt safe doing it. I’d leave drained and disappointed, realizing the session had turned into a therapy swap. Reading through that ethics material hit me hard. It showed me clearly how I’ve contributed to those blurred boundaries, and I couldn’t avoid seeing myself in those examples. It felt terrible, but it also gave me insight into why I’ve been feeling off lately.
The deeper I got into that ethics packet, the worse I felt. Some of the ideas I’d had for my massage and coaching business—things I thought were creative, compassionate, and even healing—turned out to be either frowned upon or outright illegal. I hadn’t done any of them, but realizing that my vision itself broke so many rules crushed me. I had imagined building a practice that felt deeply personal—friendly, emotionally connected, the kind of relationships where we might say “I love you” and genuinely know each other’s lives. I thought people would value that, that they’d pay well for it if I was open and transparent about what I offered.
But reading through the ethics material made it clear that even if I presented it honestly, it could still get me in serious trouble. If I built my website to reflect that personal level of connection, it would take almost nothing for someone to accuse me of being unethical. A jealous colleague or a dissatisfied client could point to my own writing as evidence, and I could easily lose my license. The thought of that devastated me. I don’t want to live in fear of being punished for being myself.
As I answered the homework questions, I felt disgusted. Not just frustrated—truly repulsed by how restrictive these rules are. I understand why they exist. They’re meant to protect clients, maintain professionalism, and prevent exploitation. But that’s not how I want to do business. I can’t imagine building something authentic by pretending these boundaries align with my nature. I’m not interested in crushing my vision just to conform to what the massage board thinks a therapist should be.
Then I learned that because massage is classified as health care in Florida, there are even more regulations. It’s illegal to offer referral commissions or financial kickbacks. I had hoped to create a generous affiliate-style system where anyone who referred a client would get 20% commissions for life. Apparently, that’s not allowed. And beyond that, I can’t legally choose clients based on preference. I can’t only work with people I like or invite certain people in for free sessions while charging others.
That realization really hit me. I’d pictured hand-selecting clients I felt drawn to—people I wanted to help—and maybe offering them free massages to build relationships and word of mouth. But reading through the laws, I saw how easily that could backfire. If word spread that I gave some people free sessions but charged others hundreds of dollars, it could be seen as discrimination. If anyone outside my circle felt excluded or treated unfairly, I could face legal complaints or even lose my license.
It was sobering. I’ve worked online for so long that I’ve grown used to a different kind of world, one where the rules are vague, rarely enforced, and easily sidestepped by insiders. On the internet, “terms and conditions” are more like guidelines—most at the top ignore them, and enforcement is inconsistent. But the real world doesn’t work that way. Here, the oversight is local and personal. Regulators know your name. The accountability is immediate.
Reading those pages made me see how drastically different the offline world is from the digital one I used to live in. Online, I could experiment freely and make my own rules. In massage therapy, one mistake—one misstep in ethics or communication—could destroy everything I’ve built. That contrast between the freedom of the internet and the rigidity of licensed health care hit me hard tonight. It left me wondering if this new path can ever really align with who I am.
When I think about how different local accountability is from the online world I came from, it really shocks me. During all my years publishing online, I uploaded thousands of videos and rarely had any issue with local authorities. There was only one real exception, years ago, involving a business I’d once promoted in a video. When questions came up locally, I cooperated fully with what was asked of me. That experience taught me how directly accountability can reach you in the offline world. Out of everything I posted over the years, that was the only situation that ever drew official attention.
Massage, on the other hand, is the opposite. It’s entirely local, and the oversight is close and personal. Every session happens face-to-face, every client interaction is traceable, and the laws are written at the state level. I realized that if I’m publishing books while practicing massage, I could get myself in trouble without even meaning to—especially if I ever wrote about a client experience, even indirectly. Some of what I’ve already written could even be seen as problematic. In Author in St. Petersburg, for example, there are passages where I discuss interactions with massage therapists that might raise ethical red flags if taken out of context.
Reading the ethics packet while already feeling low sent me deeper into frustration. What started as sadness turned into full-blown anger and despair. I felt trapped—like the very system meant to protect people was stifling everything creative and human about the work.
Thankfully, the day took a lighter turn. The perfect opportunity for a date came up with my ex-wife, and we decided to drive fifty minutes down to a town about an hour away for dinner at a sushi restaurant—our favorite place. We sat together watching doubles tennis on the TV while eating, and for a little while, everything felt peaceful again. I’d been worried she might be upset about me quitting massage school or about how uncertain my direction feels right now, but she wasn’t. She seemed calm, grounded, and genuinely supportive. She told me she’s been working on having a more accepting attitude through Al-Anon, and I was deeply grateful for that. Her openness helped pull me out of my own head. She shared some of her recent insights and experiences, which gave me perspective and reminded me that not everything needs to make perfect sense right away.
Even with that, I was still low by the end of the night. It’s unusual for me to feel depressed for an entire day straight, but I remembered something I’d said in an AA meeting yesterday—that I’m proud I can handle the full range of emotions life gives me. I can feel incredible joy or deep sadness, and I don’t need to drink, use drugs, or take anything to change it. I don’t need to explain it away or escape it. I can stay sober, face whatever comes, and recognize that my feelings are often signals—calls to action. If staying sober through the full range of what you feel is something you’re working on too, you can schedule a private call with me, and we’ll walk through the hard days together.
Still, after reading that ethics book, guilt lingered. I realized I might have put a massage therapist in a difficult position because of her connection to the massage school. I’d offered to help her write a book and trade services with her for massage, but now I don’t know if that’s wise. If I’m not going to continue massage school, I don’t see the point in driving all the way to Sarasota for sessions, and I don’t have a space for her to come here even if she wanted to. The truth is, I think I’m a complicated client for her. I admire her as a therapist, but the things I tend to talk about could easily blur lines and make things awkward for her professionally. It might be better for her career if I step back altogether.
Tomorrow, I plan to talk with my friend a friend about all of this—both about leaving the school and about massage marketing in general. She’s the one who originally encouraged me to attend massage school, so it feels right to discuss it with her. And at least now, after everything I’ve learned these past few weeks, I’ll be able to help her better with her marketing. I just have to remember to keep ethics in mind and be careful not to make her marketing too personal or emotionally intimate. It’s strange how quickly I’ve gone from seeing massage as an open, expressive art form to realizing how much of it is constrained by boundaries and rules—but that’s where I am tonight.
I wrapped up the evening by asking ChatGPT what it thought about my situation, and the feedback it gave was incredible. I don’t want to replace real human conversation with AI, but ChatGPT has a way of helping me see things clearly—like talking to a mirror that actually answers back. I told it about everything: how much I love dictating books, how I’ve been thinking about quitting massage school, and my decade-long history of creating content.
ChatGPT pointed out something that immediately lit me up—it said I could help other people turn their stories into books. It explained that people regularly pay anywhere from $2,500 to $10,000 for that kind of service, and that it’s something I could do easily, or even trade for other services if I wanted. It reminded me that if I treat my writing, speaking, and coaching as my real profession, and keep putting consistent time into my books, that path will eventually pay off through speaking engagements and coaching opportunities—especially if I position book creation as a primary income stream.
It clicked in a personal way because a massage therapist had told me just yesterday that she’s always wanted to write a book. People have been telling her she should, and when I asked what kind of story she wanted to tell, she lit up. I told her I could help her make it happen, and she mentioned that she listens to audiobooks all the time. I said, Perfect—I already have a recording studio. We could make your audiobook too. ChatGPT pointed out that I could charge $5,000 for that service alone—helping someone use my studio to record an audiobook. Compared to the time and effort of doing dozens of massages, that’s a much better return for something that comes naturally to me.
I went back and forth with ChatGPT through three or four messages, guided by prompts from The Book of Beautiful Questions, which I’ve been reading. That book helped me ask better questions, and ChatGPT always gives better answers when I know what to ask. I asked it directly, What are my blind spots? What am I missing here?
Its response blew me away. It said, Books aren’t just for readers anymore—they’re positioning tools. A book in someone’s hand isn’t just a story; it’s proof you’re an authority. That struck me deeply. I started imagining my name on shelves: books on dating, health, authorship, internet fame—fifteen more across fiction and nonfiction—and then adding the books I could co-create with others, turning their dictations into something publishable. That’s a real library of authority, something tangible that shows mastery.
Then ChatGPT said one of my blind spots might be how I define “a waste of time.” It reminded me that I’ve been conditioned to equate productivity with instant results—views, likes, sales—the dopamine loop of internet metrics. So when I spend hours dictating a book and don’t see feedback right away, it feels like I’m wasting time. It used my Author in St. Petersburg book as an example. I spent a month dictating it and have only heard back from one person so far—a text message saying they were enjoying it. I’ve given away maybe ten copies and gotten one piece of feedback.
ChatGPT said, You’ve been trained to equate output with immediate payoff, but books are slow-compounding assets. The reward comes later—but it multiplies. Books don’t chase attention—they build legacy. You underestimate how rare your skill set is. Most people can’t—or won’t—finish a book. You can dictate, rewrite, design covers, and publish fast. That’s a real superpower, but you treat it as ordinary because it’s easy for you.
That conversation changed the tone of my whole night. It reframed everything I’ve been struggling with. Maybe I don’t need to chase external validation or fit into the narrow box of massage ethics. Maybe I just need to focus on the creative gifts that already come naturally to me and use them to help others share their voices too.
What I really appreciate about using an AI assistant like ChatGPT is that it offers a perspective few people can. It pointed out something deeply valuable—something that hasn’t come up in conversations with anyone else. It has a broader view than I do. It helped me see that I truly underestimate how rare my skill set is and how much people would be willing to pay for what I can do, especially since there’s nobody locally offering anything like it. If you’re staring down a decision like whether to walk away from something and want a real outside perspective from someone who has actually done it, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me to talk it through with me.
ChatGPT also said that massage school simply scratched an itch for getting out of the house—and that I can fulfill that same need in other ways. It reframed everything in a way that made perfect sense. Then it laid out what it called my “hidden opportunities”: books as a service. Interview people. Transcribe their stories. Rewrite, publish, package, and price them as finished works.
It reminded me that I already validated this idea through bartering with my therapist. She’s genuinely interested in having her life story turned into a book, and she’s been thinking about it seriously. ChatGPT said that’s real proof of concept. I even told her she wouldn’t need to pay me any money—just give me massages in trade, and I’d create her whole book. I love that idea, helping someone I actually know bring their story to life. ChatGPT suggested that once I start offering that service more formally, I could easily charge at least $2,500 per book, paid in full upfront. That made perfect sense—there’s too much work involved to do it on credit.
It also suggested something I hadn’t thought of before: micro-memoirs. Instead of full 200-page books, I could offer shorter, 40-page legacy books for around $1,000. Most people could afford that, and I could finish them quickly. I immediately thought of all the people I know in their 60s and 70s who have stories worth preserving—people with the means and the desire to leave something meaningful behind. Helping them capture their memories for their families would be both simple and fulfilling. It’s such a clear, tangible service—something I’d genuinely enjoy doing.
Then I told ChatGPT about my fear of handing my books out. I explained that I don’t sugarcoat sensitive subjects. My Author in St. Petersburg book dives into graphic detail about sex, explores ideas about changing my race, and discusses personal experiences from massage school and my yoga studio. I’ve worried that distributing it too freely could get me kicked out of massage school, alienate people in AA, or make others in the yoga or massage community uncomfortable. I told it that I’ve been scared because I’m not some vanilla author—I tell the truth exactly as it is.
ChatGPT’s response was simple: That’s your brand. Own it. Position myself as a brutally honest author. The readers who resonate with that level of truth-telling will find me because I go into those places others avoid.
It also reminded me that I could easily overcome the issue of not making immediate income. I realized it didn’t even know the full financial picture—that if I quit massage school right now, I’d save tens of thousands of dollars in tuition. That’s money I could instead use to print around 3,000 books. The thought of that blew me away. I imagined giving away 3,000 physical copies around St. Petersburg—my books circulating everywhere, my name and story woven through the community. Even just handing out ten copies over the past month has already felt rewarding. I can only imagine what three thousand could do.
When I asked if physical books still made sense in a digital world, ChatGPT said, Yes—books aren’t what they used to be, but they still signal authority, outlast digital media, open doors, and anchor your identity. That felt right. Books make something permanent. They give form to who I am.
By the end of the conversation, I felt immense gratitude. I decided I’ll sleep on my next step before making any final decision about quitting massage school, but deep down, I suspect I already know. The choice feels made. I could push through a little longer just to see if things improve, or convince myself to stay for my classmates’ sake. But honestly, it feels like dating—it’s easier to walk away early than to stay too long and make it harder later.
Withdrawing
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Building Work That Fits You: Why I Stopped Chasing Hustle
Originally published September 17, 2025.
Here is where I have landed. The work I want to build is the work that fits me: one-on-one conversations, honest writing, and things I can still stand behind the next morning. Not the flashy launch or the rules someone else wrote for my life. Getting here meant walking away from things that looked like success on paper but drained me, and I am still in the middle of it.
The short version is that I stopped chasing hustle. For a long time I measured myself by views, subscribers and sales, and I kept assuming the next push would finally break things open. In January I wrote that I was done chasing and was going all in on the work instead. I should be honest about the money, though. My savings are nearly gone, and I have started moving onto credit while I figure this out. I still think the direction is right, but I am not going to pretend it is paying the bills yet.
The thread goes back further. In my 2024 post for anyone lost in their thirties I argued that the mess of your life is useful material, not a verdict on it. That got tested in September 2025, while I was still in massage school. The ethics rules were so restrictive for the personal, friendly practice I had pictured that I felt crushed, and I wrote about that moment in When the Rules Crushed My Vision. I decided to walk away in Walking Away to Make Room for My Real Work. The question of what to build instead is in Building Something That Fits Me, where I was starting an AA meeting from scratch rather than fitting into one that already existed.
In October I got tired of middlemen. Going through a publisher would mean giving away most of what a book earns, which was the same dynamic I had been trying to escape online. In No More Middlemen I landed on a simpler plan: keep publishing my own books, keep the work local and personal, and offer two hours at my house, one person at a time, for $222. I worked out that one session a day at that price would be enough to afford the house I was moving into. Group events brought too many headaches. I still believe the one-on-one format is where I do my best work.
Early in November an older friend in his seventies told me he keeps going because he is curious about how each day unfolds. That stopped me. I had quietly decided I already knew how everything would turn out, and I saw that belief was poisoning me. I wrote about it in Curiosity Is the Only Reason to Keep Going. About two weeks later, in Busywork Drained the Joy Right Out, I described spending three hours building nine Eventbrite events and feeling worse afterward. Work that lights me up leaves me with energy; busywork drains it.
In January I made the biggest shift. In Done Chasing, All In on the Work I wrote that I was giving up on trying to date with my head and putting my time into the business, the AA meetings and yoga. The letter I had been drafting to hand to strangers went through the same change. An Honest Ask, Not a Pitch covers how I rewrote it from a sales pitch into a plain request for advice, because I am not in a position of strength and a pitch from me would ring false.
The clearest test came in I Could Build That, But I Won't. A friend I have coached for years was looking at a model of cheap courses sold through paid ads, and I could see how it might make money. I just do not want to build it. Courses and ad funnels are not where my attention goes. By the statistics I remember, most people who bought my own Udemy courses never watched them, and I would rather sell fewer things I can stand behind than many things nobody finishes.
Read the posts below from the bottom up and you will see the change from a man searching for purpose to one who has picked a few things to say no to and is building around the rest. For the wider picture, my books are my real job now, and the AA side of this runs through my Alcoholics Anonymous guide.
If you are trying to sort which parts of your own work fit you and which are just busywork, you can get a personal video review from me.
On this page
Every post I have written on this subject is below in full, newest first, each under its own heading.
- I Could Build That, But I Won't (January 29, 2026)
- An Honest Ask, Not a Pitch (January 22, 2026)
- Done Chasing, All In on the Work (January 16, 2026)
- Busywork Drained the Joy Right Out (November 21, 2025)
- Getting Brutally Clear on What I Want (November 9, 2025)
- Curiosity Is the Only Reason to Keep Going (November 6, 2025)
- No More Middlemen (October 5, 2025)
- Walking Away to Make Room for My Real Work (September 21, 2025)
- When the Rules Crushed My Vision (September 20, 2025)
I Could Build That, But I Won't
Originally published January 29, 2026.
This is my journal entry from January 29, 2026 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
I woke up this morning to begin the day with a call with Joe Parys. Joe Parys, you can see him at JoeParys.com. I've coached him and known him for over a decade now. He first ran into me on Udemy when he was creating his first course. Now he's up to almost a million students on Udemy. He has 80-some courses. He paid me to coach him when he was building up his brand new YouTube crypto channel, which now has hundreds of thousands of subscribers and has done very well for him over the years, although it's not a great time right now with the crypto environment. And he's looking to build himself a new business model. We scheduled a call just to catch up, and he showed me he found some girl that's selling 24 courses for $24. And I told him he should sell 27 courses for $27 and build a bundle and a business system similar to her if that's what he wants to do. He told me that she gets most of her traffic from paid ads.
And we talked a lot about the whole business system. I did ask him ethically. I said, do you think this is a good experience for all the suckers who are clicking on these paid ads and are buying this girl's courses and coaching? How many of them are actually getting any kind of decent results? Probably almost none. According to the statistics I remember on Udemy, the majority of students who bought my courses never even watched it. Joe said the same thing with his crypto course. Even people paying hundreds of dollars generally did not even watch more than one single video. And it's not because of the quality of the course, it's that people buy stuff all the time they don't actually use, even if it costs $300. So I said to him, is this a good thing? Is this worth your time? Is there anything better than you can do? And he said, you know, I'm not worried about that. If people want to buy stuff that's up to them, I'm worried about making a business system that's profitable and that gets my courses out there to people who will watch them, shares my experience online. I'm like, okay, I get that.
And he said, you know, I could pay you to help me with this because I don't know how to do paid ads. And I said, well, I'd recommend you do the paid ads yourself and I'll coach you on how to do the paid ads along the way and make it easier. So what's really cool is he might hire me for some coaching, which would be some nice income coming in. This did get me inspired thinking, man, I could do a business system like that, but I'm just not feeling it. It just doesn't. I can't imagine creating courses and doing all that crap with social media ads. I'm like, man, if there's some way I could put these skills to work, I'd love to find it. But right now, I'm not sure. If you are sitting on skills you know are valuable but cannot yet see the business you actually want to build with them, you can schedule a private one-on-one call with me and we will work through it together.
After the call with Joe, I have a training session scheduled with my personal trainer. And therefore, the best thing to do seems to be to hit an AA meeting before that. So I go to the AA meeting, hang out there, say hi to people as usual. Then I come back and do my session with my personal trainer at 1230. Meanwhile, the woman from my gym has not responded in almost a day to my text asking if she'd like to go out. My personal trainer confirms that that's a reasonable text I sent, like she should have responded by now. And I'm like, what the hell is going on with girls just not responding at all? The woman I'd been talking to hasn't responded to my message yesterday. I sent a couple more messages, and several of them didn't get responded to either. It's up to me to make the effort, right, and it's not up to me to get results. It only takes one girl that's really responsive and likes me to make a huge difference.
I finish up with my training session with my personal trainer, which takes a little longer, and I have a great leg workout doing that with him. I schedule the rest of my sessions with him before my time runs out and we have a great chat about dating. And I'm going to try now approaching girls whenever I can. If they're really attractive, I'm just going to acknowledge that at the beginning of the conversation because it seems really powerful and I'm just going to blast through my fear that there's going to be negative consequences because there were already what you'd say were negative consequences of going to a yoga studio, even though I was trying to be so discreet and indirect. It's like, fuck it. Might as well just go say what I want to say and be honest and be direct, be myself. My personal trainer makes a great point that if you're in the right place, you'll be supported being just as you are. And that's great. If I can't go to a yoga studio and tell girls they're hot, then I should go somewhere else where my business is better appreciated.
After working out with my personal trainer, I come home and I stop at a grocery store on the way home, grabbing a whole bunch of whole plant foods. I mean, look at my cart. It's so obvious I'm healthy. There's potatoes in there, all vegetables, fruit all over the place. I got some tahini. It's like, no shit, this guy's healthy. Look at his grocery cart. Not one bullshit thing in my grocery cart. I head home and make myself a nice big salad, and I record a chapter of my book, which I feel really good getting back to recording my book. I do a nice long St. Pete chapter. Actually, fuck, no, I did that yesterday. I did the St. Pete chapter yesterday, but I started editing it today, and I get ready to have the kids come over.
My ex-wife drops the kids off. My son's feeling a little bit of what we call floppy, and he is just wanting to rest, so he lays down in bed for most of the day, and I have some really nice time with my daughter. My daughter and I draw some pictures and talk. Then I take my daughter to her piano lesson where I spend 30 minutes as my son rests in the back seat laying down. I edit the St. Pete chapter of my Un-effin'-myself book. Then I'm back home with my daughter, and my son is up for playing the Harry Potter Monopoly game. Lays halfway down in the chair and just drops the dice on top of the table and we move for him. We have a good time. We get in bed nice and early tonight with me, including me, getting in bed before 9 p.m. And I'm looking forward to a nice long day of sleep.
Right after the kids got here, the woman I'd been talking to did text me back yesterday. She sent three messages. I don't need to put everything she says, but I sent her three messages back after four hours. And I felt really good just getting a fucking message back. And I leaped into fantasy and like, well, it's nice to at least get some attention. And I'm enjoying the adventure of not knowing who's going to be the next one. And at least there's some potential candidates right now. She certainly, I think she's probably top of the list right now, but maybe I just need to make the list bigger. I get in bed with the kids nice and early and I'm really grateful for a day that was pretty relaxing with them, productive for me, and I'm feeling full of optimism about my business going forward.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
An Honest Ask, Not a Pitch
Originally published January 22, 2026.
This is my journal entry from January 22, 2026 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
Step one of my day today is to go pick the kids up and take them to school. I have a nice time seeing them today, and I'm glad to feel useful helping save my ex-wife a little bit of time, plus this only chance I'm going to get to have to see the kids today. So I enjoy chatting with them, and finally I get to read my son's Pluto book this morning. I drop them off, then head back to work obsessively on my letter, especially after finding a guy yesterday that can deliver them and he says he's going to start Friday or Saturday. We need to get this letter figured out. I dictate another hour-long letter, this time with the idea that the outside of the letter should say open and then the letter should be about open, being open and openness to new ideas. I spent hours dictating this letter, it starts off with like 16 pages of transcripts. I get it down to like eight pages of transcripts, but something's not feeling right with it.
I go to personal training and I see my personal trainer at 1230 as I'm working on this letter. And I noticed a woman who works at my gym is at the front desk as well. I then talk with my trainer and ask rather, you know, maybe I should ask her out or if that would be a good idea. And our conversation concludes with me thinking that I should wait and see if there's a natural opportunity that comes up. I've gotten all kinds of phone numbers in my life from just forcing things like I could easily walk up to her at the desk and just be like, hey, can I talk to you and then ask for her phone number. But in the past when I've done that, it generally goes nowhere because there's not quite the energy. I think that the woman at the desk is pretty flirty and friendly with me, but my trainer, from knowing her at work, he says, well, she's generally that way with lots of other people, too. That's just her personality. And I'm like, oh, okay, I was taking that personally, and I guess it's nothing personal. And if there's anything special here, there will be an opportunity that naturally comes up to talk to her.
After that I hang out kind of awkwardly for a minute and use a Stairmaster to get a little extra cardio after the workout and to think whether I want to finalize this decision today or not. And then after that, I'm like, yeah, I'm just I'm not feeling it. I'm not feeling like there's that connection there today. I say goodbye walking by the front desk and it feels like the right move. I head home and I get back to work deep on the letter again. And the more I work on the letter, I'm thinking shit like this long letter like this is not going to work, which is what everybody said. I tried delivering eight of the long help letters around my neighborhood, but putting a letter that says help on people's front porches doesn't feel quite right either. It sounds a little too desperate and doesn't match the tone I want. Plus, it takes so much money to print these longer letters out.
I then go to yoga because I wanted to go to a yoga instructor's class. But when I get there like five or ten minutes early, there's already a handful of dudes that have all put their mats like right around where her mat is. Like, damn, this girl's got a nice little following of guys that want to be right up there next to her during class, which that was my plan, too. And I put my mat down off to the side to try and get a little less heat, but it doesn't work. My trainer had also talked to me during our personal training session about dating girls and keeping active, he said, you know, rest is rust and motion is lotion, which I very much agree with. At the same time I was telling him that I'm like I just don't want to date a girl that's less than like an eight, you know. I want to date girls that are very attractive to me that I'm really excited about. And what I've seen over the last few months is I've tried to ask a bunch of girls out that you might number rate them as like sixes or sevens. And it's just annoying when a six or a seven doesn't want to go out with me. I feel like I shouldn't even have asked in the first place. And then if they did want to go out with me, there's a high likelihood I'm wasting their time. I went out with one from my online dates and it doesn't feel like it's worth my time.
Also, a woman I'd been talking to sent a follow-up message yesterday saying, oh, she need to take her time. Thanks for my message. And she'd get back to me. But no message from her today. I'm like, I don't understand why you even send a message like that. Why I am so on top of my messages. Like, are people so overwhelmed they can't even respond to text messages and messages people send? That's crazy. After that discussion, though, my trainer's like, I told him the only girls I had my eye on right now were the woman who works at my gym and the yoga instructor that I went to see today. And he's like, damn, you got your sights set high. I'm like, yes, I'd rather be single than waste my time with someone I'm not that excited about.
I think about how my worst case scenario would be drifting into an unhappy marriage out of loneliness. I'm like, that's my worst case scenario. I'd rather be single that entire time than be stuck in something like that. And this is really good for me to be getting here because over the last few months, as you might have noticed, I started to feel pretty desperate at various times, feeling like I needed to have a woman. After the yoga class, which ends up being nice and hot and sweaty, even though I did a nice arm workout with my trainer, I'm grateful I can make it through a power flow a few hours later. And I do wish I'd had a little more time for my food to digest beforehand, but it's all good. There's a beautiful redheaded girl next to me in class. She offers me the spray bottle, but I say no because it's my mat. Then I don't know what else to say, but at least I'm happy she did turn to me and say something, even if it was as small as that. I'm thinking, man, I want to do a little better trying to get some conversation or something to happen in these damn yoga classes. I'm not sure what to do, but right now, just showing up is, to me, the gateway where things get happening. It seems like girls need to get to know me and recognize me before anything's likely to happen, but who knows? It depends on the person, right? If you've been wrestling with the same thing—whether it's better to hold out for someone you're genuinely excited about than settle out of loneliness—that's a conversation I'm always up for having honestly; book a private one-on-one call with me and we'll talk it through.
I head home, and I've got clarity. As my boy from AA calls to talk to me that I'm doing a meeting for tonight, he reinforces that a letter should be short, not some eight page thing, but it should be a short to the point letter. And I realized talking to him, my letter fundamentally needs to not try and pitch from a position of strength and sell something because let's be real here. If I was in a position of strength with what I'm doing, I wouldn't be putting fucking letters on people's doorsteps. Clearly, I'm in a position where I could use some help, and that's why I'm putting letters on people's doorsteps, not because my business is so successful and I'm making so much money and I have so many clients that I thought I'd just also put letters on somebody's doorstep to try and promote it. I realize the theme of the letter needs to be just a clear ask for help, which is where the theme started, but this one should be much more clear and direct about the help and not try and act like I'm directly selling them something.
With this in mind, I eat dinner, which is a salad, and then in 30 minutes, I dictate and go through and make a new version of the letter. However, this one will have the word open on the front of it because open also signals that I will be asking people to open the letter, and I'm looking for people who are open-minded, and I am open to feedback and advice. So open is the perfect word to put on the front of the letter. But then inside the letter, it starts off saying, thank you for opening this. We don't know each other and I'm asking you for advice. In order for you to give me advice, I'm going to need to tell you a little bit about myself so you can give me some guidance. I then do a few paragraphs on my history, on all my business online, my books, etc. And then I ask, if you were me, what would you do to make a local business? Then I wrap the letter up with my contact information and acknowledge most people won't respond and that's okay because it gives me time for the people that do respond. ChatGPT thinks this is a great version of the letter and I start printing out copies of it. I print out like 80 copies of it because my guy from AA who's going to door deliver for me says he'll be ready Saturday, which means I ideally should have at least four or five hundred of these ready to pass out for him to pass out because he's going to be going door to door for five hours on Saturday and Sunday. So I need to have my letters ready for him to pass out.
And I'm excited to just be completely transparent and lead by example. Like what I love about this letter that I've written now, it leads by example. It says, look, I don't have all the answers. I asked people in my life already for advice. I'm living based on my principles and values. I want to help people, but I'm not sure how to do it. Here's what I can do. Here's what I've done. What do you think? And it's a great example. It's like, hey, if we just honestly reach out and ask each other for help, there's all kinds of problems we can solve. And it would only take a handful of meaningful connections for things to totally take off. That, to me, is really exciting. And the cost of these letters to print is so low that basically I'm just paying for the labor to pass them out, and I can always pass them out myself too. I'm thinking if I can pass thousands of these letters out, I'm going to get some really helpful feedback. And meantime, I'll be supporting somebody else who wants to work and pay their rent. It all feels perfectly aligned. I get a new copy of the letter done. My friend from AA gives me feedback on it as well. If you're trying to get a local business off the ground and would rather just ask someone honestly than pretend you have it all figured out, that's exactly the spirit I built this around—schedule a private one-on-one call with me and ask me anything.
Then I go to the meeting. And I do the lead at the meeting. I dress up nice. And my new clothes are received well. I feel fantastic in them. And I look great in them to other people as well, which is perfect. We read the to the wives section of the big book of Alcoholics Anonymous. And then I do a 10 minute lead. We have a discussion. And then I end up talking with my friend after the meeting for an hour. We have a great discussion. He is in his early 20s, so he has said he hasn't been on a date in years. We talk a lot about women and dating, but he also says he feels like a failure because he has a job that he doesn't really enjoy, but he just goes to it to make money, which is interesting because I feel like a success for being out here doing my own thing, trying to make my own business work. It's funny because he's actually making money, but I right now am just exploring. He feels like a failure, even though he has his living situation. Financially, he's doing great. He's making money. He has almost no expenses, but he feels like things aren't going well. I'm over here with a negative several thousand dollar a month balance in my finances, and I'm not dating anyone either, but I feel like my life is going great.
One of the best things I take out of the conversation with him that I really want to remember going forward is I end up telling him that I'd rather be single than date below my, I was trying to put this in boxing terms, I'd rather be single than date below my weight class. Like, I want a girl that's amazing. I want another girl like my ex-wife, but, you know, slightly different. I want a girl, my ex-wife is very attractive. Like I told him, my ex-wife's at least a nine when we met. And she still is absolutely gorgeous. And every girl's gonna have issues with her personality. Every girl has a personality, but not every girl has a great body. And my ex-wife's had a great body the whole time, the whole 15 years we were together still to this day. And I'm not gonna settle on that. I'm not gonna accept some woman that I'm not very attracted to because I'm not going to be the best version of me with some girl that I'm not really attracted to. And even when I am really attracted to a girl, I'm not just going to let her, you know, run my whole life and do whatever she wants either. Like a girl that I'm very attracted to, to me, is the gateway to being an equal. A girl that I'm not attracted to is only ever going to have the chance to be dominated by me because I'm not going to be an equal in that sense.
And I have a great epiphany realizing that I would rather be single for the next 10 years than to keep going from one relationship I'm not excited about to another. Like, no. I have so much to do, so much I care about in my life. I have kids. I would rather be single than date someone I'm just not excited about. Because settling like that is one of the easiest things I could do to bring myself down, you know, gets me into drinking again or dating a woman whose habits ruin my health and fitness, because me dating a woman like that is more likely to ruin my commitment to health and fitness than it is to help her. People's negative habits often tend to drag other people down rather than lift them up. Although the exceptions are much more interesting, like how my ex-wife helped me get healthy instead of me dragging her down. There are exceptions, of course.
So I get home and I look at the letter again, make a couple of small changes and I'm ready to shower and go to bed. I'm wondering if I should text a woman I'd been talking to, but she hasn't texted me back in a week and a half, and I'm tired of always being the one that sends out the text messages. The one thing, a woman who's going to be awesome and amazing for me will not be someone that can't respond to text messages. If you don't have time to respond to my messages, if you just leave the conversation hanging and don't follow up, if you need several fucking days to reply to my message, there's nothing worth my time there. And my time is valuable and I'm not going to waste it. So I'm not sending her a message after I sent her the last message. If she doesn't care enough to keep the conversation going, there's not enough mutual interest there. I'm not going to keep texting her and hoping she'll remember that I'm alive. Either she can do that, she can send a message back and start things up again, or I'm good. I'll find somebody. I want that energy. I reflect on a woman I had a crush on in yoga in 2023. That's the energy I want. If there's not that level of energy and intensity there, then I don't want it. And I'd rather be single. And I go to bed feeling very good about having that clarity.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Done Chasing, All In on the Work
Originally published January 16, 2026.
This is my journal entry from January 16, 2026 — my real, unedited day, shared just as it happened.
The kids got up a little late today, but we managed to get out the door for school by 8. They decided they wanted to eat their breakfast in my bed, so that was fine. I guess I always change the sheets when there's burrito and fruit spilled all over. But I love having them here in the morning. I love getting to be a dad. It's so nice. And after dropping them off to school, I went straight to yoga at my yoga studio. There was a beautiful woman in front of me and I'll admit I was distracted by the view. I was putting out all the I love you and you're so perfect and I'll worship you vibes, seeing if I could get her to have a crush on me. And I didn't say anything to her, though. She didn't try and make eye contact, smile or anything. I'm like, oh, just put out the vibes and see who picks up on them. And the class was intense today. This instructor had me fucked up, standing on one leg so much. I was like, shit. But this is why I came. I sweated all over the place, too. And then it was actually cold today. Walk outside with all that sweat, and it's like, fuck, it's like 50 out. It's like Michigan, but not nearly as much as Michigan.
I drove home and threw down a big salad. Then a friend comes over to work on his book and he talked to me a little bit about my letter, and he said that he thought I could put more emotion into it, which I'll see if I can do. I don't know if that means I need to not use the AI, or tailor the AI a bit differently so it doesn't water down my emotion. We'll see about getting more emotion into the letter. He records some of his book and shares something deeply personal and moving, which was very moving and nice to hear, finally after knowing him so long. Then he heads out and I come in to get to work on reframing the letter and getting it ready to write.
And then I head out to meet a friend for lunch. We meet at a restaurant. He's the guy a week ago I threw the football with and walked around with last Saturday. He buys me lunch for $39, which I sure appreciate. It was good. I encourage him to pay four extra dollars for the steak, which he really enjoys.
After the restaurant, I thought that was going to be it, and I was going to get to go home and work on my letter, which I've realized should be rebranded to a help letter, not a thank you letter, because a friend who I've mentioned a few times said that the letter didn't really read like a thank you letter. There was just a little bit of gratitude in the beginning, and then it was just all about you after that. And I'm like, OK, yeah, I was thinking maybe I need to rebrand the letter. The original idea I had was just to write help on the outside of it, with the thought that somebody praying for help will find this letter and be like, God literally dropped off the help I was praying for on my doorstep. That's the wavelength I'm trying to hit. Someone who's struggling with all the things I've been through, like alcoholism, weight gain, sickness, divorce, money, ups and downs, building your own business, work, meaning of life, relationships, then I would just drop this letter on the door. It'd have a lot of help in it for somebody, new ideas, inspiration, and then it'd have me to follow up with. If you're trying to reach people who are genuinely struggling—with addiction, divorce, money, building something of your own—and want help finding words that actually land, that's the kind of thing I love working on with people; schedule a private one-on-one call with me and we'll work on it together.
So before lunch with my friend, I went through and put his feedback into practice and rebranded to a help letter. It shouldn't be a thank you letter. People are going to open a thank you letter expecting a quick one, like they're going to open it thinking it's probably from someone they know thanking them for something specific they did. But when they see it's a generic thank you letter, they're probably going to be like, what the fuck, and toss it. Whereas if it says help on it, then that's going to be just pure curiosity. And then the goal of the letter will be to help them in the letter based on my experience.
After talking with my friend, he at lunch points out, after I've got my event page all polished, he says, Jerry, I just don't see girls you don't know just coming over to your house for an event at night on Friday or Saturday. I don't see that happening. And I'm like, yeah, ChatGPT didn't like that either, but just for everybody. And then I don't like not being able to put my address. So I tell him about my business plan, but this starts to unravel a little bit. We go to the park by my house at Crescent Lake and we throw the football some more. It's funny because a week ago, both of us were really throwing and catching amazing. Like I was amazed how good I was throwing and catching. And he was too. For some reason, both of us are kind of not doing as well today. His throws are wobbly and inaccurate, and my right arm starts to hurt from my throws. So he says he needs to change out of his boots and his pants so he can throw properly, which does help him throw better. Meanwhile, I end up, by the end of it, kicking the ball, and then we just end up talking a lot. I ended up hanging out with him from 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. today, which was great to talk to him. I don't know if I'll ever see him again, but how cool is that to just run into somebody and make a friend that easily? Maybe I'll run into a new girlfriend that easily. Second wife will just come into my life that easily. Wouldn't that be cool?
I realized yesterday spiraled again, mostly out of dating. Like, I don't think I've had one spiral that didn't involve dating. And I talked a lot about girls and dating with my friend. After talking to him, I changed the laundry and go to my son's soccer game. And I felt like I couldn't talk to my ex-wife about dating. She asked not to have details. But I talked to her more general. I'm like, you know, dating's really been frustrating. And the times I've spiraled, it's been dating related. And I told her how sad I was yesterday, inviting these two girls, the one from AA and a woman I had been seeing, and neither of them even responded. It's still, now it's like 30 hours later, neither of them even sent a response. And just totally feeling frustrated. Like what the fuck is happening? Like I'm just totally out of sync. I'm inviting girls to do stuff with me that don't want to do anything. Then like a woman I dated briefly, I got involved with her and got her all into me, and then I don't want her. I'm attracting attention at AA meetings that I'm not interested in. And then I'm just getting blown off and rejected in shocking proportions.
Meanwhile, my ex-wife has not been dating at all, not been concerned with it at all, enjoying her space and her time to herself, which makes sense after being in a marriage for almost 15 years. And she'd like some time off. Like, I wasn't really looking to take any time off, certainly wasn't on my mind when I was telling my ex-wife we needed more intimacy or I was going to want a divorce. Wasn't thinking that might mean a serious dry spell for me, too. Anyway, I realized that, you know what? I either need to go to one extreme or another with my dating. Either I need to be on dating apps, and I tested little bits of this, as you may have noticed over the last few months if you read these. I tested little bits of going all in on dating, swiping my ass off on dating apps, trying to pick every girl up everywhere I go, getting phone numbers. The one day that I documented in the book Nine Hours Later, the last day of it, I had gone all in, even texting a bunch of women in one morning trying to make something happen, and my conversion rate was just under 10%, so I'll take it. And, you know, that didn't work out well. Sure, something happened with a woman I dated briefly, but it was a performance. I didn't feel like I was really being myself with her. I was tired of it, even walking around my neighborhood with her hoping nobody I knew would see us. That's not a good feeling. That's not how it should be. It should be somebody I'm really excited about, and they're really excited about me.
And either I need to go all in and just try super hard at dating, which made sense when I had time for that, when I didn't have kids, when I was in grad school, and my life consisted of porn, drinking, video games, football, including watching football, drinking beer during football and fantasy football, and then doing my grad school stuff. Yeah, I had time to put a shitload of effort into online dating back then because look at the rest of my life. But I don't now. I have a lot of shit to do now that I care about. And, you know, I like the idea of just fucking my life away on video games again, but I have things I want to do. I don't have time to do that anymore. And I don't have time to swipe dating apps.
So I realized talking to my ex-wife, I need to go to one extreme or another. Right now, I've been in this middle ground where I'm trying at dating but I'm not really going all out. And the way I've been approaching it, you need to go either all out or just stop. So starting today, I swear I've said this before, but starting today for real on January 16th, 2026, I'm giving up on trying to date, at least with my head and with my mind. I do leave my heart open and just keep an eye out and keep putting out, you know, like that woman in yoga this morning, just lasering her with I love you, the feeling that we'd have a great life together. And you wonder why a woman at a yoga studio once complained she didn't feel comfortable with me behind her in class. I think she was drawn to me and didn't like that she was, because she was married. But it makes sense. I'm going to keep putting those vibes out because a lot of the girls at my yoga studio seem single and they need those vibes. And one time, somewhere, somehow, it's going to fucking work. But at the same time, I'm not going to try and date anymore. I'm not going to try and get phone numbers and try and ask girls to do shit unless it's just so much tension, like with a woman I had a crush on. With her, there was so much emotional tension there. It was so hard not to ask her to give me her phone number and go out on a date. There was a crazy amount of tension there. And I want to build that kind of emotional tension again because I reflected that my fear is, if I don't make something happen, nothing's going to happen. If you're caught in that same middle ground with dating—half-trying and quietly burning out—and want to talk through what going all in or letting go would actually look like for you, book a private one-on-one call with me and we'll talk it through.
And I see now, I didn't try and make anything happen with her at the yoga studio. I was just putting out these loving vibes, but I saw her six to ten times before we ever made eye contact or spoke to each other. Maybe we made eye contact briefly once walking by each other, but I saw her a bunch of times, we had our mats next to each other several times, we built an insane amount of tension, and then there was so much tension that she actually spoke to me first. And then there was so much tension going forward that I was obsessed with her and I was afraid of cheating with her, and I ended up having to be the first one to break it off, to be like, I can't keep coming to this yoga class. And then she broke the other class off.
And thinking about before bed last night and then talking to my ex-wife, it's like, I need to stop trying to date. And what I need to go all in on, what I am going all in on, is my business. My business. The main thing with dating is I don't have that time to give dating. I need my time for my business. If I'm going to dump my time into something, it's my business. And ideally, in the course of dumping my time into my business and AA meetings and yoga, I'm going to meet my second wife. And I'm going to have beautiful kids and be with a great woman before you know it. And it'll have happened naturally. That's what I'd really like to happen, for things to happen where my heart kind of leads the way instead of my mind trying to run strategies and game and asking for numbers. All right, so you all heard what I just said, right? Now, that was the intention I left soccer with. I watched my son play soccer, and he played goalie and kicked a goal out, which was nice, but then the other team kicked a goal in, and he said he wanted to be a good goalie. I'm like, buddy, you stopped that one ball from coming in. That was great. Just because they scored a goal doesn't mean you're a bad goalie.
And as we're walking out, my ex-wife and I ended up having a great talk. I'm glad I opened up to her. And she said, you know, no one is more invested in your success, especially with dating, than I am. I would love to see something work out for you. And I'm like, my God, what an ex-wife. That's a dream come true for an ex-wife. An ex-wife that's given me some money, which is all gone, by the way, or almost all gone. And then I got the like 12,000 or so from my Discover card sitting in there. But considering the credit, yeah, it's basically all gone already. And we're moving into credit. So if there's going to be all in on something, my business is the number one candidate, because I'll be fine even if I stay single for the next year. But if my business goes nowhere in the next year, shit could get uncomfortable. Your boy might not be in a nice ass house like this if my fucking business doesn't make some money. So I'm going all in on my business.
And after soccer, I drive home, eat the rest of the noodles with a little mushroom gravy on them. Then I drive out to this meeting, which I'm like, God damn, I'm not trying to break the anonymity every fucking meeting I go to. So I go out to this meeting. It's a young people meeting. I guess I just need to state that because the rest of this will make sense. And I'm like, damn, there's a good amount of hot young girls at this meeting. Like, shit, I'm going to have to start being a regular here. But the time for it conflicts with the deeper connections event I had set up. I'm like, shit, I'm not going to be able to make this meeting. A 2Pac song popped into my head right here, but I won't quote it.
Anyway, I'm at this meeting. There's a lot of hot young girls there, and as the girl saying it, I sit in the front row. And there's a girl two chairs over, one between us, and I'm like, she looks familiar, and I realized I'd seen her at the meeting I'm chairing on Wednesdays. And I'm like, damn, it's nice to see her again. And of course, last time I saw her, I was married. This time, this girl is so fine. She's getting all my I love you vibes for the whole meeting, just lasering in on her. So I'm sitting there and she keeps looking over in my direction so many times. Like, what is she looking at? There's no clock back there or anything. But she doesn't make eye contact with me until after. And when she gets up to go hold hands, she goes off in a different direction. But then after the meeting, I go up and talk to her. I'm like, hey, are you who I think you are? And she says, yeah, I'm sober a couple of years now. I'm like, awesome. That's awesome. And she's in her early 20s and she's already sober a couple of years.
And of course, my mind's already spun a plan up. Remember what I just said like five minutes or less ago. But my mind's like, you know what you should do? She got a couple of years sober now. You should have her do the lead at the meeting you're chairing. And you probably should get her phone number just to confirm that. I'm like, yeah, damn it. So I ask her, she said she was just thinking about that meeting that she used to go to that I'm chairing. And I'm like, hey, I'd love to have you speak at it. I'm chairing it this month. There's two openings. Are you available either? She's like, I'm not available, I'm traveling next week, but the week after that I'm available. I'm like, great, I'll put you down. And then, so I could be smooth and not like I have to have her phone number, I said, would you like to just show up there and I'll count on you? Or do you want me to give you my phone number in case you can't make it or something? She's like, oh, I'll definitely be able to make it, but yeah, I'll give you my phone number. I'm like, good, because I played fast and loose with the last person who was doing the topic and they came late, I had a backup chair and it was a little nerve wracking, so thank you. So she sends me a text. I message back with my name confirming the time, so if she forgets, it's there, when and where she's doing. And I leave thinking, all right, yeah, I'm definitely not trying to date, but let me get this girl in her early 20s' phone number who's sober. I'm thinking of my massage therapist talking about how she was 25 and her first boyfriend was like 50. And I'm like, yeah, I'm like 20 years older than this girl, but definitely that could work, couldn't it? I was watching her body language out of my peripheral vision when the guy doing the topic was talking about kids, and I got the sense she might want kids someday, and my mind ran ahead imagining a future with her after only just meeting her again.
So I head home and I take some peace and quiet after spending earlier in the day listening to more of the guest and Dr. Michael Salla and the three admirals and the nature of reality and all that shit. It is good because I like that the guest encourages you to go within and discern, which I think is about the healthiest thing you can do. Anytime you're telling people that they need a savior, that they need to look outside, it's like, yeah, you do need to consult outside, but first and foremost, let's go within. And I went within tonight on the way home, and I kind of talked to my future second wife, and I could imagine her saying, yes, this is what I'm talking about. Just be where you are and don't try and date. I will make myself very known and very available to you. You're not going to have to hunt for me or swipe for me or guess. I will make it very clear to you that I want you, and you'll pick up on it. So I'm like, all right, cool.
I get home, and I ask ChatGPT. I start thinking. I'm like, you know, I think I need to cancel this event. Fuck, after all this time I put in this event, and literally, what is this, the 50th event I've canceled on Eventbrite or some shit in the last few months? It's okay. It's like, I do not need an event. I do my best work one-on-one and public speaking, and it'd be better to meet people, to go speak somewhere else that already has an audience. So I started to put all this together, like, well, what is this feedback? I'm like, I need to cancel the event. So I came home, I deleted the event. And I'm like, this help letter needs to promote all of me. It needs to promote that I'm an author. Here are my books. I mean, first and foremost is to help people. But then if I'm going to talk about myself, it needs to show off my books. It needs to talk about my speaking. Like this letter, if I'm going to give a letter to thousands of people, one outcome I'd love is if people invite me to speak places, speak at AA meetings, churches, schools, companies, charities. I'd even go speak to people who are incarcerated. I want to get public speaking opportunities because I said I'm an author, speaker, and a coach.
This letter should be promoting my author, speaking, and coaching. Having an event is not like being a public speaker. That's like a workshop host. I can host a workshop, but based on the AA meeting I led, I can hold space, but I'm nothing special as a workshop host. Like if I already had people I was coaching or that had my number from speaking, that'd be one thing to invite them. But just starting an event cold and trying to get people to come, I don't think that's going to work. So I realized talking to ChatGPT, I need to cancel the event and my letters should be promoting my writing, my speaking, and my coaching, my public speaking on any of the topics in the letter. So the purpose of having this long letter, people will have a very good idea of what I could talk about and what me speaking would look like. And then the letter is a good example where I could do consulting for a company on marketing because clearly, if I'm getting that kind of attention, both online and offline, I can do marketing. And the coaching, anyone who wanted one-on-one coaching could be getting coaching on anything I talk about throughout the letter. Like the letter is a perfect vehicle to promote me, author, speaker, coach. And therefore an event doesn't fit into author, speaker, coach. And I'm really excited. This help letter now feels like I've got the full formula that I've been kind of fumbling for and trying to get out there. The letter should be positioned as help, and it should promote author, speaker, coach, and just allow for any kind of thing to happen. If you're trying to package everything you do into one clear offer the way I was wrestling with here, that's exactly the kind of puzzle I love solving with people—schedule a one-on-one call with me and we'll build your version of it together.
And in the process of distributing this letter, I may have a great opportunity. Imagine I go to some church and I speak there, and my speaking lots of times is absolute euphoria for people. I could speak at somewhere like that, like a church, and a girl will come up afterwards and give me her phone number and want to go out with me right after that. Shit like that could happen. That's what we want to go for. And I need all my time to do this letter. And now I'm thinking, maybe I just need this one master help letter. And I just literally sit at a table at my gym with just that letter. I don't try and sell my books in person. I give the help letter out as my lead magnet. And then the letter sells my books, my speaking, and my coaching. The letter is the gateway. And then I give that one letter out everywhere. I give that letter out at AA meetings. And that letter given out at AA meetings could get me invited to speak at other AA meetings. And it could potentially get me coaching clients. And that's even something I'd have my phone number in it. Also, if somebody wanted to date, that'd be a way of just giving my phone number out more organically. And then I could give that out at yoga. If I meet someone, I'm like, hey, I have a letter I give out to everybody. And then if I talk to anybody and there's any friendliness, I could be like, hey, I have a letter I give out to everybody, would you like to have one? It covers, I think it'll be really helpful for you. That could turn one of these girls that's beautiful into reading the letter and being like, damn, I've got to get to know this guy, way better than any kind of regular conversation could.
It also could mean I have to change yoga studios. But this letter will not have all the graphic sexual descriptions. I didn't think they were that graphic. It's not like I was going into that much detail. You can read Author in St. Petersburg if you haven't already, which I'm not sure how you got here. But I don't see what people are losing their goddamn mind over that I talked about in Author in St. Petersburg. I mean, I talked about semen retention with my massage therapist. I talked about wanting more intimacy in my marriage. Maybe it was my tone. Do you think it was something I could have said? And with that, I'm calling it a night.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Busywork Drained the Joy Right Out
Originally published November 21, 2025.
This is my journal entry from November 21, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I played tennis with a tennis partner again this morning. We had played a couple of weeks ago and ground through three full sets in about two and a half hours, so this time felt merciful by comparison. After dropping the kids off at school, I arrived at the courts and, thankfully, we managed to finish three sets in under two hours. We both had stretches where we completely forgot how to play. He took the first set 6–1, I came back and won the second 6–2, and then he crushed me in the third 6–0. Still, it was a solid workout, and we both enjoyed the effort. I headed home afterward, took a shower, and sat down to work on my Eventbrite events.
Over the next three hours, I created nine more events, then ate a massive salad and got ready to pick the kids up from school. Somewhere along the drive, I noticed that I didn’t feel good. I was grateful in that moment that I had resisted the temptation to go back on dating apps after writing a book called It’s Not You, It’s the Dating Apps. That book keeps reminding me, very clearly, that those platforms are not for me and that there are other things I need to be doing. After picking the kids up, I reflected on how I was feeling and realized that the activity I had just spent hours on wasn’t really the best I have to offer. What I keep noticing is that when I’m doing something meaningful, something that turns me on and feels aligned with who I am, I usually feel good. When I drift away from what I’d call my most joyous self, the bad feeling shows up fast. The switch can happen almost instantly. If you’ve noticed the same thing—that busywork quietly drains the joy out of you while the aligned work lights you up—and you want help sorting which is which in your own days, that’s one of my favorite things to work through with people; book a one-on-one call with me and we’ll sort out which is which together.
As I sat with that, I thought, maybe the core idea here is that books are it, and this frantic creation of events isn’t going to work the way I want it to. I decided I’d give the events some time to sell and see what happens, but I also found myself spiraling into thoughts about how worthless my books might be. I’ve self-published all of these books and haven’t made any real money from them so far. Still, I held onto the possibility that something worthwhile could come out of all of this. I brought the kids home, spent a little time with them and my ex-wife, then headed to my AA meeting. Once again, only a handful of us showed up, and we wrapped things up early. I had already said goodnight to the kids because I was planning to go to a local kirtan ceremony that evening.
After the meeting, I gave two of the guys a ride home since they needed it and it was on the way to the kirtan anyway. I hadn’t really planned to go straight there—I wanted to have a snack and pack up my table—but that plan fell apart. I dropped both of them off at their houses, feeling about as tired as I usually feel during the day. My mood was low, and it all seemed to spiral out of those hours spent creating events and wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do with my life. How am I going to make enough money to afford a $3,000-a-month house that we’re going to look at again tomorrow, this time with the family? With nothing better to do and no real alternative in front of me, I kept driving toward the kirtan, figuring I might as well get there early and see how it feels.
I called my sponsor twice today, and he didn’t answer either time. I arrived at the venue about twenty minutes early and sat in my car for a while, and slowly I started to feel a little better. Getting there had required a full internal negotiation. Right as I was about to turn onto the final street, I was ready to bail. I thought about just going home, relaxing, hanging out with my ex-wife and the kids, maybe spending time with my mom. I told myself I didn’t need this prayer-chanting shit tonight. I assumed it probably wouldn’t involve meeting anyone, probably wouldn’t be that good, and honestly, I just wasn’t feeling it. Still, I was already there, so I figured I might as well pull into the parking lot and see how it felt. After sitting there for a few minutes, I said, fuck it, and got out of the car. Maybe I’d feel better doing this. I seriously doubted I’d feel any better if I just went home.
As soon as I got out, I saw the host of the ceremony struggling to carry way too much stuff. He dropped a surge protector and was trying to scoop it up awkwardly with his sandal, so I picked it up for him. We walked in together, and I started to feel a little better almost immediately. This time, I brought in just a handful of my books, maybe fifteen of them, carrying them in one hand and setting them on half of a table. That felt right. The woman I met from the spiritual community was there with her boyfriend, and she had her full herbal remedies setup out. I was feeling slightly better, though still not great. I figured that if I was going to feel bad, I might as well feel bad here. At least there was a chance I’d meet some new people or give away a few books.
I ended up talking with a friend’s partner, and it turned out he knew a former close friend of mine, someone I had been close with years ago. He and I had done a couple life coaching sessions, a men’s circle, and even a viral GoldenEye stream together. We started reminiscing about him, and it felt surprisingly good to talk with someone who knew him back then. We both missed him and really appreciated the role he played in our lives. I found myself wondering whether he ever still thought about us, because we clearly still thought about him.
When the ceremony started, nothing special happened for me right away. I sat down in a chair on the back left side and realized I wasn’t really feeling the singing tonight. I decided I’d just try to receive, let whatever good vibes were there wash over me without forcing anything. I noticed that my mind wasn’t as toxic as it often is, which felt like a good sign. Maybe I could actually have a decent time. During the first song, I alternated between closing my eyes and letting the sound sink in, and opening them to look around the room. That’s when I started noticing a woman a little to my front right, a couple of rows up on the blankets. She didn’t seem to have come with anyone, and she was gorgeous. She had brown hair tied back in a small ponytail, green yoga pants, and a grayish long-sleeved shirt. I remember thinking, wow, this girl is beautiful. Who is she? I’d never met her before. I had seen her walking around a bit earlier, but sitting there by herself, she kept pulling my attention back to her.
During the second song, she stood up and started dancing in front of me. At that point, I thought, holy shit, this girl is hot. I kept wondering who she was, and I could feel some energy coming back into me. I started to feel a little better. Her partner played a slow, relaxing third song on the guitar, which I appreciated, and by the time the fourth song started, it felt right to stand up. I got up, placed my hands out in mountain pose, and focused on receiving whatever was there. I didn’t feel like dancing or singing, but I was open to taking in the good vibes.
As I kept noticing her, I found myself silently asking her, almost pleading in my head, please come dance in front of me again. And then she did. At first she moved slightly off to the left, but then she drifted back and ended up dancing directly in front of me, maybe an arm’s length away. I felt like I was about to pass out. She was unbelievably beautiful, and the way she moved was mesmerizing. I kept alternating between closing my eyes to feel the music and the energy, then opening them just long enough to steal another glance at her, barely able to believe what was happening.
At some point, people began forming a line, all standing shoulder to shoulder with their arms around one another. She moved to the end of the line. Instantly, a scene from Battlestar Galactica flashed through my mind, where the captain of the Pegasus tells Starbuck that when the time comes, don’t flinch. I thought, this is it. There was maybe a two-second window before someone else stepped into that spot next to her, and I took it. I moved right beside her and put my arm around her shoulder. She slid her arm along my lower back, resting it around my waist, and my whole body lit up. I was so turned on I felt dizzy. It was overwhelming, electric, almost unreal. I hadn’t spoken a word to her. I didn’t even know her name. I just kept thinking, what the hell is happening right now?
After our little love line kept dancing, another woman stepped in beside me, making it easier to just blend back into the group instead of being stuck on the end. When we finally had a moment, I asked her name, and she told me. From that moment on, I was fully committed to talking to her as much as I could. We sat back down as the host wrapped up the event. Then I noticed the guy sitting next to her—mid-sixties maybe, with full-length gray hair down to his shoulders—leaning in and starting a very deep, animated conversation with her. I decided to be polite and give them space, even though my mind was already rehearsing what I wanted to say to her. This week, I told myself, I’m not hesitating. I’m going to walk right up to her, tell her how gorgeous she is, tell her I can barely pay attention to anyone else when she’s around, and see where it goes. No matter the outcome, I was too curious not to follow through. I had to see what would happen. If there’s someone you keep hesitating to be honest with, I know that exact freeze, and it can help to talk through how you’d actually approach it—schedule a private one-on-one call with me and we’ll walk through it together.
That guy could really talk. I sat down, stood up, wandered around aimlessly, feeling awkward and useless. Thankfully, the woman I met had her back turned to me most of the time, sparing me the self-consciousness. Eventually, I got pulled into a conversation about my books with three women, all of whom ended up taking a copy. Then, finally, the guy stood up and moved away, leaving her alone for a moment. Almost perfectly timed, the women I was talking to wrapped up their conversation just as she stood up from her yoga mat. I thought, good timing, ladies. Thank you. I moved over to her immediately and started talking. The guy reappeared out of nowhere, trying to reinsert himself into the conversation, but I managed to get just enough words in. I told her how beautiful she was, how excited I was to finally talk to her, and that I had waited until she was free because I wanted to respect her conversation. I told her I’d really like to talk more.
Within five minutes of talking to her, we had exchanged phone numbers. Then the gray-haired guy was back. He said he hated to interrupt, which almost made me laugh out loud, because it looked exactly like he loved interrupting. I hadn’t interrupted earlier—that was the whole point—but apparently “hating to interrupt” didn’t stop him at all. On the surface, I stayed polite, friendly even, but underneath there was a clear awareness of what was happening. I saw him trying to get in my way, and I let him, mostly because I felt confident that at the pace things were moving, I was going to close this out anyway. So I figured, go ahead, take your shot.
He led her over toward the edge of the water and sat there talking with her for another twenty or thirty minutes. She was supposed to help clean up, so I stepped in and did it for her. I put tables away, moved chairs, carried my books back out to my car, went to the bathroom, and still, when I came back, he was talking. I couldn’t believe it. Finally, with only about ten minutes left before we had to be out of the venue, I decided I hated to interrupt too. I walked over and just stood there, saying nothing, positioning myself to her left and his right. She glanced at me a couple of times and smiled. He didn’t look at me at all. I stood there thinking, I hate to interrupt, bro, but here we are.
Eventually, he ran out of steam. It was obvious she’d had enough of listening to him, and he finally backed off and made space for me. That’s when I thought, all right, let’s see if I can pull what some of the guys in those books call an instant date. My plan was simple: walk her out to her car and talk with her as long as she was willing to talk with me that night. We headed out together, and she had a nice blanket with her that she carries around. I had thought there might be a little beach we could walk along at this location, but instead there were two benches overlooking the water. We stood there talking by one of the benches for about twenty minutes, and then she asked if I wanted to sit down. The bench was wet, but thankfully she had brought her blanket, so we spread it out and sat.
We ended up sitting there for about an hour. As we talked, I kept thinking, this is exactly why I was willing to be patient earlier. I had a feeling that guy could have his time talking to her, because I was going to be the one with her at the end of the night. The conversation was incredibly deep, touching on all kinds of aspects of our lives. She told me she’s a private person, so I’m not going to put the details of those topics here, but it was one of those rare conversations that feels open, honest, and real. At some point, we started holding hands. She placed her hand on top of mine and showed me what she likes about a massage. I had set that up by asking her what she thought about safety and attraction.
She talked about liking safe men, and I told her I understood that. I also said that while women want safety, there’s also an attraction to men who make moves and pursue, and that sometimes that element can feel a little dangerous. I asked how she saw the balance between boundaries, respect, and safety, and mystery, romance, and making moves. That opened the door for her to explain that she hates it when a guy just lunges at her. She said she would much rather a man ask if he can kiss her instead of creating some awkward, aggressive moment. She also said she prefers holding hands before kissing. So we held hands, sitting there on that bench by the water, for about an hour.
She got me emotional enough that I was tearing up a little while talking about my early sobriety. By the time we wrapped up, it was around 11:45 p.m., which meant we had spent a little under an hour and a half together, probably closer to an hour and twenty minutes of just the two of us talking. Eventually, she said she needed to use the bathroom, and since there weren’t any around, it was time to head out. I walked her back to her car, and she gave me a hug. I could feel very clearly that this wasn’t the moment to try to make out or even ask if she wanted a kiss. Ending it with a hug felt right, like it completed the experience without forcing anything.
Right before we parted, she said something that really stayed with me. She told me she didn’t feel like she knew me well enough to say it, but it was what she was feeling anyway. She said she was proud of me. I had shared my story about AA and sobriety with her, and she explained that she’s looking for a man who has his life together. She doesn’t want a fixer-upper. At this point, I’m not a fixer-upper. I have my shit together. That’s what she left me with: “I’m proud of you.” She also said she would wait for me to reach out to her, which immediately had my mind planning how that was going to go the next day.
When I got back into my car, I noticed something different from a similar experience I’d had about a month earlier. Instead of feeling euphoric, I felt kind of sad. I already missed being with her. There was also a sadness in knowing that the next phase is always uncertain. There’s a real chance that this could drop off, that this might be as good as it gets. I don’t know the odds of me texting her the next day and her being genuinely excited to go out and follow through, but there’s a significant chance it doesn’t make it past that point. At the same time, I thought back to just a couple of hours earlier, when I didn’t know this woman at all and she was dancing in front of me. If you had told me then that I’d spend an hour and a half talking with her one-on-one, holding her hand, and sharing intimate parts of our lives, I would have been terrified and euphoric just thinking about it. And yet that’s exactly what happened. If you’re sitting in that tender space after a real connection, half hopeful and half braced for it to fade, you’re not alone in it, and sometimes it just helps to talk it through—book a private call with me and we can talk it through together.
That was my best-case scenario. I wouldn’t even say hooking up would have been better, because a woman I respect wouldn’t want to have sex with me immediately after meeting me. This was it. This was exactly what I could have hoped for. The woman I met was very physical in a natural, comfortable way—touching my arm, mirroring me, being open, encouraging, and giving clear positive signals. From our conversation, it felt like we were highly compatible, even though there are certainly things that would need to be discussed and possible reasons she might not want to go out again, or reasons she might worry that I wouldn’t text her. Still, the compatibility felt strong. I kept thinking, what’s the best that could happen? And the honest answer was right there. If she were my new girlfriend, that would be incredible. This was exactly the kind of woman I could imagine as my next girlfriend, my ex-wife, the mother of future children. This was it.
What feels so good as I start driving home is the reflection that this is what the Universe can do. I call my mom on the way home since I didn’t get to see her that day, and I tell her some of what happened. From that wider perspective, it feels like the Universe has a practically unlimited supply of women like this. I think back to just the day before, how excited I was talking with the woman from the spiritual community, and how I even got a few minutes with her again tonight. She told me she liked my outfit, said the shirt looked good on me and matched my eyes, which I wouldn’t have thought of on my own. Driving home, it hit me: this is two days in a row where I’ve had hours-long conversations with women I felt very compatible with and genuinely enjoyed being around.
Of course, she has a boyfriend, which is a very real limitation right now, and it remains to be seen where things go with the woman I met. Still, it all feels like it happened so fast. The woman I met even expressed some concern about how recent my divorce and separation are. At the same time, I couldn’t shake the feeling that women are sort of circling me right now, and eventually one of them is going to decide to step in close. My responsibility is to make sure I get to choose who’s in that circle and who’s actually eligible. I’m grateful that I’ve kept my space open, because she is incredibly beautiful, and there’s so much about her that I already love. What I notice, though, is that the excitement feels grounded. It’s more like, this could go really well, rather than some frantic, uncontained high.
Even if nothing else ever happens with her, this night was beautiful as a standalone experience. At the very least, it feels like we planted strong seeds of friendship. What stands out to me is how much I loved her response and how much I liked my own behavior. I clearly communicated my interest in her. I made authentic comments about how taken I was with her, and she responded positively. I was patient while that guy talked her ear off, trusting that my moment would come, and it did. Sitting with all of that on the drive home felt really good.
By the time I was getting ready for bed, I had so much energy that I was literally shaking. This whole night felt like another reminder of how close I came to missing something really special. I had seriously considered not going at all. I couldn’t even have comprehended how much joy I would have missed by staying home. Missing that conversation would have sucked. What I’m intending now is to keep putting myself in position for moments like this to happen going forward. I’m especially glad I didn’t give in to the temptation to swipe on dating apps, because I’m almost certain the energy of doing that would have sabotaged this night and the connection I had with her. I’m excited and a little nervous to see what happens tomorrow. It feels like I’ve just gone up the first big hill of a roller coaster. The drop is coming next, and it’ll be fun either way. I’ll see how it goes.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Getting Brutally Clear on What I Want
Originally published November 9, 2025.
This is my journal entry from November 9, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I slept restlessly, and my body felt noticeably more responsive than it had in a while, which I was genuinely happy about. I’ve been low-key worried about that side of things lately, so it felt reassuring, almost celebratory. Watching porn the night before clearly flipped some switch, which was both exciting and unsettling at the same time. Still, the reassurance itself mattered more in that moment than the philosophical discomfort around it.
The morning disappeared almost immediately. I took the dogs out and then burned way too much time swiping on dating apps, the kind of time drain that doesn’t even feel good while it’s happening. Eventually I pulled myself together and went to my tennis lesson with my tennis coach. A fellow student couldn’t make it this week, so it was just the two of us. My coach absolutely ran me into the ground, pushing my footwork hard, drilling things my other tennis coach and I had been working on, and getting me into some solid volley practice. It was a great workout, exhausting in the best way, the kind where you can feel your coordination improving even while your legs are screaming.
From there I went straight into hot yoga with one of my yoga instructors. Last time, a staff member at the studio had canceled my reservation at the last minute, and I’d given her a little bit of shit about it. She’s beautiful, and part of me would love to know whether she’s interested in me and even available. Today I told her I just wanted to jump straight into class. I hadn’t booked anything, so there was nothing for her to cancel. I think she enjoyed it as playful teasing, though there’s a chance I pushed it a little too far. Still, she got me into the class even though it was full, and somehow I fit perfectly. I ended up in the back instead of by the door, and it was brutally hot.
The instructor said something during class about thinking how much you respect yourself, and my immediate thought was that if I really respected myself, I’d probably be at home on my ass instead of sweating through hell after already doing an hour of tennis outside. At the same time, I was genuinely happy with myself for being able to handle that much cardio and exertion in a single day. Sweat was pouring off me, and at certain points when I moved, I kept seeing little stars. I think of that sensation as a brownout, the moment right before you faint, except it clears almost immediately, like the blood flow is just a fraction of a second behind. If it ever didn’t clear right away, I know I’d need to get into a safe position and prepare to pass out.
There was a cute girl next to me, someone I hadn’t paid much attention to at first, but during this speed skater pose my mind went hard in a sexual direction for a minute. Very shortly after that, she got up and left. It made me laugh internally. I felt like Steve Urkel from Family Matters, the character famous for sheepishly asking whether he’d caused the chaos around him, accidentally causing chaos just by existing. Probably not, but you never really know. After class, I ran into a friend, and she shared some of her own experiences on the dating apps. She encouraged me to be patient, to be clear about what I want, and to make sure I’m not obsessing over it. That conversation snapped something into focus for me.
I walked away realizing, again, that I need to be brutally clear about what’s non-negotiable. I’d been thinking about it since the speed dating thing last night and into this morning, asking myself what actually matters. I got it down to three things I can openly put out there. First, I want a woman who is athletic. I want someone who can keep up with me physically and is in genuinely good shape. A pretty face is nice, but for me physical health and fitness matter more. That’s just where my attraction is, and I’m being honest about it.
Second, I want a woman who actually wants kids. I am exhausted by the vague, hedged answers—maybe I want kids, I don’t know, probably not, ask me later. I have tried every angle, every workaround, every theoretical alternative, and it always circles back to the same truth. I want a woman who wants children. Not someone tolerating the idea or postponing it indefinitely, but someone who genuinely wants to build a family. That part is not negotiable anymore, and I’m done pretending it might be.
I also want a woman who lives a sober lifestyle. I do not want someone who has to smoke pot every day because life feels too hard to cope with otherwise, or someone who needs a glass of wine every single night just to “unwind.” Develop some coping skills. I am not interested in being the one who teaches you how to emotionally regulate yourself. I want a woman who appreciates sobriety for whatever reason she has, and it doesn’t have to mean absolute abstinence, but I am not willing to deal with weekly drinking rituals, girls’ nights that revolve around alcohol, or the constant normalization of needing substances to get through life. When I see that kind of casual drinking around me, it consistently turns me off, and I just don’t want any part of it. That perspective comes from me being a sober alcoholic, and I know people who aren’t alcoholic may not experience it the same way, but these are my standards. Athletic, wants kids, sober lifestyle. Those are the three things I can publicly put out there without hesitation. If you’ve never gotten brutally clear on your own non-negotiables the way I just did, and you sense that kind of clarity would change how you date, you can book a one-on-one call with me and we’ll work them out together on our call.
There are other things I want too, even if I’m less likely to advertise them upfront. I want a partner who genuinely shares my level of physical desire, where intimacy is something we both want regularly rather than a source of resentment. I’ve heard the horror stories—relationships where the spark disappears almost entirely—and that’s not what I want. I may not lead with this publicly, but I am absolutely bringing it up early in the dating process. I have a normal, healthy sex drive, and I want to be with someone who feels the same. I know what I want now, and that clarity alone simplifies everything.
After talking with my friend, I went home and made a sandwich. Actually, I had several. The night before, I’d taken four plant-based sandwiches home because they were going to throw them away. I ate one that night, then finished the remaining three throughout the day. One became lunch, and later I got on a call with a guy who used to watch my ICP videos. He paid me $300 for an hour of my time, and he pitched an idea that I thought was complete garbage. He wanted to build some app to track a bunch of things that didn’t need tracking. I told him straight up it wasn’t necessary. He said the idea was stuck in his head. I told him most of the ideas that get stuck in my head aren’t good ideas either. They need to be tested, disproven, and discarded so I can move on. Plenty of ideas I was convinced were brilliant completely fell apart the moment I tried them in the real world. That’s just how it works.
I had been so confident that I’d be God’s gift to women. In my head, this was going to be effortless, like flipping a switch. I genuinely believed I’d have no problem finding another woman immediately. Actually trying it out in real life has been sobering. This isn’t a sprint; it’s a marathon. In some of my older autobiographies, I talked about how I thought being single again would feel like The Bachelor, with women lining up. That fantasy turned out to be completely inaccurate. There are not women lined up to date me, at least not women I’m attracted to. If I were attracted to a wider range of body types, I could probably have women coming over constantly. They are relentless on these dating apps, posting very sexual photos and making it clear what they want. What’s wild is that some guys seem accustomed to that dynamic, and then they try messaging a woman who actually wants something real, and they have no idea what to do when she’s not immediately propositioning them through the app. If you expected being single again to be effortless and the reality has been humbling, you can schedule a private call with me and we’ll talk through pacing it like the marathon it really is.
I keep thinking about how absurd it all is. If I opened my mind to a wider range of partners, it really might feel like The Bachelor. There are so many people on dating apps, and even more who aren’t on the apps at all. The question is how open can I actually make my mind. I honestly don’t know if it can stretch that far. After that realization, I had another call lined up, about $90, talking with a woman about ICP. I was already in the mood to deal with that kind of nonsense that day. While the call dragged on, I scrolled through my dating apps at the same time because the conversation was slow. I ended up tightening my filters even more, to the point where most days there’s almost nobody who meets them.
On Bumble, I’ve got women set from ages 18 to 41 within 22 miles. I know I’m a niche guy, so I’m willing to go a little farther geographically. For advanced filters, I’ve selected long-term relationship, fun casual dates, marriage, or life partner, and for family plans, open to kids or want kids. I don’t care about the rest of the fluff. I also filter for exercise, no smoking, and for drinking either rarely or not at all. On Hinge, I run basically the same filters, but I only browse women who are active that day, which dramatically cuts down how many profiles I see. A friend told me she met a guy on Hinge, so I take it seriously. On Hinge, I’ve set deal breakers for a maximum distance of 22 miles, age range 18 to 41, monogamy only, and dating intentions focused on a life partner or long-term relationship. I’m not interested in polyamory. It sounds fun in theory, but in reality it just turns into confusion. Family plans are set to want children or might want children, and I’ve set deal breakers for no drugs, no smoking, no marijuana, and no drinking.
With all of that in place, I don’t have many matches to look through on any given day. Tinder is its own mess. You can’t filter nearly as well, and it relies heavily on an algorithm that often shows you people who aren’t even active. I tried setting Tinder to only active profiles, but it’s still rough. I paid for Tinder Platinum, which is about $50 a month. Bumble is costing me $30 a month right now, and I just dropped $100 on the highest-level Hinge subscription for three months. I’m even considering upgrading Bumble for more features. When I step back and look at it, though, it’s still cheaper than blowing money at strip clubs or paying for sex. That’s how I’m rationalizing it. These dating apps, as frustrating as they are, at least have the potential to be worth what I’m spending.
Later, a friend told me he’d read an article on LinkedIn claiming that Facebook Dating is now bigger than Hinge. That immediately annoyed me. The last thing I want to do is sign back up for Facebook. I escaped that place for a reason. I also realized I forgot to mention something earlier: when I was leaving yoga, the staff member I’d been talking to asked for a copy of my book. I gave her one and casually told her my phone number was inside if she wanted to share feedback or comments. That’s something I do with everyone, but it also accomplishes the obvious secondary goal. She has my number now. If she’s interested, she can open the door. My job is just to keep generating leads and see what converts. I’m not trying to contaminate the communities I’m part of by acting like some kind of pickup artist.
After yoga, I went home, cleaned up, showered, ate, and knocked out the calls I had scheduled. That night, I headed to a Tantra speed dating event. As soon as I arrived and looked at the check-in list, I knew how it was going to go. There were roughly twice as many men as women. I sat down and started talking with a man there. One of the guys from the speed dating event the night before was also there, which I found pretty funny. As the women walked in, I watched closely and didn’t see a single attractive woman who looked like she was actually participating in the event. That pretty much sealed it for me. This was likely my last speed dating event. Online dating may be miserable, but at least it doesn’t require hours of your life just to discover that you’re completely incompatible or that there aren’t any women you’re attracted to in the room at all.
He ended up telling me one of the craziest dating stories I’ve heard in a while. He said he recently met a woman online who was very high-powered and intense. They had a couple of dates, and on the second one things took a turn at her place. She wanted to get into some intense role-play that quickly became aggressive and physical in a way he wasn’t comfortable with. At some point he stopped and told her it was too much for him.
According to him, she snapped almost instantly and started screaming at him to leave. The shift was so abrupt and extreme that he was stunned, and he gathered his things and got out as fast as he could. When he finished the story, all I could say was that it was absolutely insane.
That story is exactly why I say no to role-playing until I actually know someone. Someone once told me I was pretty vanilla, and I didn’t disagree. I’m not trying to turn intimacy into some elaborate performance, and I’m not interested in costumes, scripts, or personas. I had a woman over about a week ago who was into “daddy” role-playing, where the man acts like a father figure. I shut that down immediately. I have two kids, and that idea is deeply disturbing to me and one of the biggest turn-offs I can imagine. No thank you. I have a general no-role-playing policy. Maybe there’s fun to be had there for some people, but after hearing his story, that whole world feels unhinged to me.
What he described was completely insane. It also highlighted a double standard that’s hard not to notice. If a man had escalated to that kind of aggression with a woman, he’d likely be arrested, charged, labeled, or worse, while a woman can sometimes get away with behavior like that without any consequences. He told me it felt like she wasn’t even present anymore, like she was replaying some old trauma instead of responding to the actual situation in front of her. People need to deal with their trauma instead of constantly reliving it and dragging unsuspecting partners into it. Hearing all that made me a little more cautious about dating in general, though I don’t believe I’m particularly attracted to women who are that unstable. At least I hope I’m not. If dating has left you more guarded and you want to talk through holding healthy boundaries without shutting down entirely, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me and we’ll work through it together on our call.
The best move he made that night was deciding he was done with the event. He said he had things to do and didn’t want to stick around. The last time he’d attended, there were more women than men, and they’d even paired women together for activities. This time, he could already see where it was headed—men getting paired with men while the remaining women cycled through. He told the event leader he wanted a refund or a credit and that he was leaving. I overheard him and immediately said I wanted the same thing. I was out. The guy sitting next to me joked, “Thanks a lot, we’ll be taking our best two out of the competition.” I told him I was happy to let them battle it out. I wasn’t interested in wasting my time.
The upside was that I got home with time to actually do something productive. I worked on my two books and submitted the Kindle versions of ChatGPT for President and Is Bitcoin One Big Lie? to Amazon. I also fixed the cover for Sober Through Separation. After that, I headed over to spend some time with my ex-wife and the kids. They had just gotten back from their glamping trip and whatever they’d been up to earlier that day, and it felt grounding to end the night there instead of sitting in another pointless circle of forced dating interactions.
I spent the rest of the night hanging out with my ex-wife, the kids, and my mom, which was genuinely nice. My ex-wife told me how the glamping trip had unfolded, and the logistics alone made me grateful I hadn’t gone. The original plan was two tents: one for our family what would have been the four of us—me, my ex-wife, and the kids—while a separate tent was meant for her parents, her sister, and her sister’s daughter. Her sister had just gotten engaged around the same time my ex-wife and I decided to divorce, and then, the morning they were supposed to leave, she announced she was bringing her fiancé, his two kids, and the dog. Literally that morning. Everything had to shift. In the end, my ex-wife’s parents stayed in the tent with her and the kids. Hearing all that, I felt relieved I wasn’t there. I would have felt like an extra, completely unnecessary, and honestly, even if we were still married and everything had been great between us, I wouldn’t have wanted to be in that situation.
My ex-wife’s family is kind, and I do love them, but they aren’t my people. When I’m around them, the conversations stay polite and shallow. There’s no room to be real, no space to talk openly or directly about uncomfortable or intense things. I can’t stand being in situations like that for long. The conversation I’d had earlier with that man—raw, unfiltered, and honest—could never happen with my ex-wife’s family, and that contrast really stood out to me. After that, I took the kids over to visit my mom. She had some nice birthday presents for my ex-wife, and we spent about forty-five minutes there before getting the kids ready for bed.
Later, I walked home and dictated the entries for the seventh and eighth, since I’d fallen a bit behind. Going forward, I want to keep most of these entries shorter. Writing them a day or two later seems to help me cut repetition and focus on what actually matters, even though it does make some details harder to remember. At the same time, the details are what make this interesting in the first place. The little specifics are what bring it to life. I want to avoid rehashing the same themes over and over while still keeping what makes these entries feel real. I’m committed to refining this series and making it as good—and as joyful—as I can.
That said, I’m very aware that I don’t actually know much about anything. My main hope is simply that I keep dictating and don’t stop. I’m also realizing that I want to work on one book at a time—start it, finish it, and move on—because juggling multiple books at once leaves me feeling scattered and overwhelmed. I’ve got several ideas lined up, and I’m even thinking about writing fiction. A lot of people read fiction and fantasy, and I know I could do that too. So yeah, let’s get ready for it.
As the night winds down, my mind drifts, as it often does, toward winding down in my own way. I briefly consider how easily certain habits could become compulsive, stacking stimulation on top of stimulation, and recognize that might be a little much. We’ll see.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Curiosity Is the Only Reason to Keep Going
Originally published November 6, 2025.
This is my journal entry from November 6, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I woke up this morning completely in the shitter. Absolutely miserable. I felt stupid the moment I opened my eyes, like, how the fuck did my life end up here? After a decade of success, praise, and people telling me how great I am, I’m making basically no money. After a decade of patting myself on the back and taking pride in my marriage, I’m single, and nobody I actually want to date wants to date me—at least not that I can see right now. Jesus.
I woke up trying to take the edge off my mood, and it didn’t work. I felt worse afterward. I went over to my ex-wife’s house to pick the kids up for school. I snuggled my son and started crying a little. I was also a bit toxic toward my ex-wife in my head and in my tone. I kept thinking about how much she contributed to this situation. This feels like the worst rejection I’ve ever experienced in my life. I kept wondering why she couldn’t have done more work in the marriage instead of wanting to end it.
I took the kids to school and told them, in the best way I could, how bad I was feeling. They were supportive in that quiet, innocent way kids have. After dropping them off, I called my ex-wife and asked if I could come back to the house to try to take the edge off my mood. I went back and told her I was sorry and that I was just having a really hard morning. She made it clear that she has hard times too, but she doesn’t want to talk about them with me anymore. That hit hard. I felt even worse, like now the friendship is falling apart too.
In my head, things spiraled into a dark place. I felt worn down by how heavy everything had become—this stupid world where everything feels pointless, where your entire life can collapse in a moment, where you go to a speed dating event and walk away feeling nothing but rejection.
The worst part is that this isn’t unique to me. Everyone is dealing with some version of this. I couldn’t stop thinking about the kids, about how much they love me and how much I love them. I thought about my parents and how much they mean to me. I’m grateful I can say these things openly, even to my ex-wife. I’m honestly surprised at how far my emotions swung today.
I eventually went back home and got to work on my books. That helped. I was genuinely happy with the small books that arrived today. I narrated Is Bitcoin One Big Lie? and ChatGPT for President. Both are around twenty-five to thirty pages—tiny books—and they came out perfectly. I’m going to publish them. This feels like a real shift in strategy: putting out lots of small books on diverse topics instead of focusing so heavily on bigger ones. For the diaries, I might keep those larger, but these smaller books give my mind room to explore new areas and test what works.
Around 10:30, it occurred to me that my car might be ready. I called the body shop, and they confirmed that my Toyota Corolla is painted purple and ready for pickup. I called my older friend to see if he was ready to go, and he was, which felt perfect. I drove his car over to pick him up, and then we rode together down to the body shop so I could get my car and he could take his back. When I saw it, the Corolla was dark with a subtle shine—clearly purple, but not loud. It looked beautiful. I felt a genuine rush of satisfaction seeing it repainted, and I was immediately glad I finally did this. Part of the motivation was simple and practical: a ghetto-looking car does not help a man who wants to date. My older friend had encouraged me to do it, and I’m deeply grateful for his support.
I went inside and paid for the paint job, and while we were talking afterward—about many of the same things I’d been saying to my ex-wife—it started to feel like there’s an opportunity for growth here, even if I can’t fully articulate what it is yet. I asked my older friend something heavy. I asked him why, in his seventies, living alone, without a partner, having lost a child, with much of his family scattered, with a body that’s often in pain, he keeps going. He answered without drama: curiosity.
I asked him what he meant by that. He said he’s simply interested in seeing how each day unfolds. Right there, something clicked, and I immediately saw the problem in myself. I’m not curious about anything anymore. I don’t want to approach women because I think I already know what they’re going to say. I don’t want to try much of anything because I think I already know how it will turn out. Fuck it, I tell myself. I already know. And that’s exactly what’s killing me. I know how heavy it gets when you’ve quietly decided you already know how everything will turn out, and if you want to talk your way back to some curiosity about your own next chapter, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me.
What he gave me was the answer, even though it didn’t feel comforting at first. The truth is, I know almost nothing. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Even just looking back over the past few days, I’ve been surprised repeatedly. I had no idea I was going to get dressed up and go out to the Vinoy with him last weekend. I had no idea a woman was going to come over the next night and have sex with me. I had no idea I was going to start writing and publishing these small books. At any moment, something unexpected can happen. Life is genuinely magical when I’m not pretending I already understand it.
I could see that this attitude—this belief that I know everything and know how it’s all going to go—is poisoning me. It’s also deeply arrogant. Who am I to think I understand how everything works, when the evidence clearly says otherwise? Curiosity is something I’ve preached to other people for years, and now I can see that I need a lot more of it myself. Curiosity with dating apps instead of resentment. Curiosity about who I might match with. Curiosity about how an evening might unfold, how each day with my kids will go, how my ex-wife is doing, how my work will progress. I know almost nothing, and that’s not a flaw—it’s an opening. This feels like a real breakthrough, and I’m grateful to my older friend for it.
I drove my newly painted car to the noon power yoga class, and emotionally, I was wrecked. I felt awful. I started crying during yoga, overwhelmed by how stupid I felt. It reminded me of that moment in Pulp Fiction where a character, panicking over an overdose, berates himself for how foolish he’s been. That’s exactly what was running through my head. How is this the same guy who bragged for years about making millions online, about having a great marriage with a beautiful woman and beautiful kids? How am I now single, alone in a house, making no money, bleeding savings?
And yet, even sitting in that pain, something had shifted. The car was purple. The books were real. And for the first time in days, I could feel a crack in the certainty that everything was already over. I talked to my yoga instructor briefly after class, but it felt rushed. He teaches a solid yoga flow, and afterward I didn’t really talk to anyone. I said hi to people like I usually do. A friend was there, so I said hi to him too. Then I walked back to my car. It was 1:11 p.m., and I just sat there. Fuck. I knew exactly what I needed to do, and I didn’t want to do it. I felt like absolute shit. Deeply depressed. I knew I needed to go talk to my yoga instructor.
I remembered how I’d been there for him on days when he was struggling with dating. Days when he felt like he shouldn’t even try because his life wasn’t together yet, like he needed to fix everything before anyone could love him. I had told him that was bullshit. Get out there and date. Lead with what you have. Someone will like you for who you are. And now I needed him to tell me the same thing.
So I went back into the yoga studio. I found my yoga instructor just as he was about to clean the room. I poured my heart out to him. I told him how miserable I was, how fucking stupid I felt about where my life had ended up, and I started crying while I was talking. He didn’t flinch. He comforted me. He told me he appreciated how I’d been there for him. He reminded me that this is normal—divorce, trying to date again, feeling lost. This is how it goes, and it’s okay. He told me I would find someone again someday. He reminded me how he had felt like giving up on dating completely, and then suddenly he matched with the woman he now lives with, someone he’s had so many adventures with. Even then, he said, things are still challenging sometimes.
Talking with him changed everything about my day. I felt dramatically better afterward. It was a real turning point. I was so grateful that early sobriety trained me to do one very important thing: when you feel that bad, get your ass out of isolation and talk to someone who can help you. I got back into my car feeling restored to some level of sanity. That lesson has held up for me over and over, and if you’re in one of those stretches right now where everything feels like it’s already over, I’d be glad to be that person for you when you book a private call with me and we’ll talk it through.
I went home and made a big salad for lunch, finishing off the kale I’d bought from Rollin’ Oats. Then I went to pick the kids up, feeling noticeably lighter. Thank God I talked with him instead of sitting alone and spiraling. I’m sure he felt good too, being given the chance to help me. I know I always love when people give me that chance. Over the years, a lot of people going through divorce have poured their hearts out to me. I wonder where they all are now. Maybe I’ll run into some of them again.
The kids loved the purple color of my Corolla. They were genuinely excited riding home in it. My ex-wife also liked it and said the color looked good without being flashy. After that, I went to my 4:00 p.m. meeting. There were about nine of us there, a mix of old-timers and a few newer guys. Several people had more sobriety than me. I read a passage thanking the old-timers for showing up, and I shared how grateful I am for the men who stayed sober my entire adult life. They kept going to meetings year after year, and when I needed them desperately at twenty-nine and thirty, they were there. They had been training, whether they knew it or not, and they helped save me.
After the meeting, I came home and downloaded the dating apps again. All right. Back on Bumble and Hinge. I worked with ChatGPT to make my profile a little less serious, then started swiping. It didn’t take long before I’d basically gone through everyone. And that’s when something clicked. After the woman who came over a week ago showed up smelling like pot the entire time—even though she hadn’t smoked at my place, just earlier in the day—I realized how much I hated it. That was enough clarity. I don’t want to be with someone who drinks, does drugs, or smokes pot. If that’s true, then I need to actually look for sober women. That’s the lane.
I set the filters as carefully as I can to try to find sober women. As I’m scrolling, I see a woman I recognize, someone I haven’t seen in a while. That stops me for a moment. I think, this could actually work. I realize I need to approach dating apps like a marathon, not a sprint. Keep the filters narrow. Check the apps once or twice a day instead of compulsively. Don’t make swiping the focus. Just be available and ready if the right person shows up, or notice people I already know so I can approach them in real life with some context.
I head to the tennis clinic at the tennis club and have a good time playing with three other guys and a fellow tennis player. It’s a solid workout, lots of drills, the usual rhythm, and I enjoy myself. Afterward, I go home, shower, and decide to download Tinder too. Why not? I go over to my ex-wife’s to be with the kids for bedtime and see my mom, then come back home and finish setting up my Tinder profile. I spend about $50 on the Platinum membership and swipe through every profile within eleven miles that fits my search criteria. By the time I’m done, I’ve literally run out of profiles for the day.
I see another woman I recognize, this one I’d seen around before, and I send her a short message. I get a couple of likes on Tinder, which at least confirms I’m not invisible, but none of them are really what I’m looking for. One is a daily pot smoker in Bradenton, and if it weren’t for that, I might have swiped right. But that’s a hard no for me now. I’m not dealing with that.
When I go to bed, I notice something has shifted in what I find myself drawn to. I catch myself thinking, yeah, I’m ready for older women. That realization is surprisingly meaningful. I fall asleep around 11:30 p.m., feeling tired, slightly steadier, and at least pointed in a clearer direction than I was earlier in the day.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
No More Middlemen
Originally published October 5, 2025.
This is my journal entry from October 5, 2025, part of my daily autobiography The Kind Divorce — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I woke up this morning with a burst of excitement about a new business idea that feels like it perfectly fits this next chapter of my life. I spent much of the day thinking about agents, publishers, and how the traditional book world operates. The more I researched, the more conflicted I felt.
Technically, I could pitch three or four different manuscripts right now. For nonfiction, that’s all you really need: a proposal, not even a finished book. I kept reading about how advances work, how royalties are split, and what kind of control authors have. And the more I learned, the more I thought back to the analogy I made in I Was Famous on the Internet about middlemen who take most of the reward from the people doing the real work.
Submitting my book to a publisher means they’d take around 90% of the profit while giving me 10%. If that’s not the same dynamic I was trying to escape from in the online world, I don’t know what is. It feels like another version of being someone else’s product—of selling my work through a system designed to take most of the reward away from the creator. I’ve said it a hundred times lately: I’m tired of middlemen.
What I want is a system that cuts out as many intermediaries as possible, where I have full creative control and keep most of what I earn. Right now, that looks like self-publishing and focusing locally. The internet can still distribute my books, but my real business will be personal, intimate, and offline.
As I brainstormed, I thought about offering something like a board game night—three people paying $30 each to come hang out and play games with me. But the more I thought about it, the less appealing it sounded. Group events come with headaches: scheduling, uncertainty about attendance, different personalities. It’s just not the vibe I want.
What truly excites me is one-on-one connection. That’s what I already pay the most for myself—whether in massage, coaching, or therapy. And that’s what feels most natural for me to offer. So, after hours of bouncing ideas back and forth with ChatGPT and mulling it over, I landed on something that feels perfect: Invite people over to my house for a two-hour experience and charge $222.
Each person could decide what they want those two hours to be. It could be coaching, conversation, games, lunch, brainstorming, or something more creative. Every session would be unique, but the structure would stay simple and repeatable. I’d only do one session per day to keep it special and prevent burnout, with multiple times available for people to choose from.
For example, one person might book a lunch slot and spend two hours eating and talking with me about their goals. Another might book an evening session—say, 6 p.m. to 8 p.m.—to play a board game and talk about life. Someone else might want help dictating their own book or finding direction after a major life transition. A parent might even book a session for their child who’s struggling with internet addiction so I could share my story and offer perspective from someone who’s lived it.
It feels like such a natural extension of who I am—part friend, part mentor, part storyteller. People already tell me they wish they could just sit down and talk for a while. A reader from the tennis club even left a five-star review for Author in St. Petersburg on Amazon and said he had so many questions he wanted to ask me. I thought, Perfect—that’s exactly who this offering is for.
Imagine if a reader could book two hours at my house, maybe over dinner or a board game, where we talk about everything he’s curious about. It would be fun, authentic, and valuable for both of us. And because it’s at my home, it creates a relaxed, personal atmosphere—something most people never get from formal coaching or events. I’ve always preferred going to other people’s homes for sessions too. There’s something about being in a personal space that opens people up.
What’s incredible is how simple and sustainable this could be. If I charged $222 and only did one session per day, that would be enough to easily afford the four-bedroom, three-bath house across the street. I wouldn’t even need to depend on book sales or publishing advances. Just real, human connection—one person at a time.
It feels like the first business idea I’ve had in a long time that truly aligns with who I am now: no middlemen, no performance, no digital noise. Just honest conversations, meaningful experiences, and enough income to live comfortably doing what I love.
I’m really grateful for the clarity I have now around my books and business direction. The more I thought about agents today, the more obvious it became that I don’t want to go down that path. I want to publish my books as fast as possible and get them out into the world—not spend months or years sending queries to agents who already receive thousands of submissions and barely read most of them.
I’m done trying to stand out in competitive environments. They drain my energy. The traditional publishing process feels like another version of that—doing endless busywork, jumping through hoops, waiting around for approval. Even if I were to land a book deal with a $30,000 or $40,000 advance for I Was Famous on the Internet, it could still take years before the book actually hit shelves. And once it did, would it even be my book anymore? Would I have to edit parts to make them more politically correct or palatable to some corporate editor’s idea of what readers can handle? I can’t imagine anything worse than putting my voice through a committee of gatekeepers again.
That’s what I ran away from in the first place—the endless middlemen. Who even cares now whether a book is traditionally published or self-published? I don’t. And the people who read my work certainly don’t. They care about truth, not logos. What I really want is the most local kind of book distribution possible—handing my books to people in person, watching their reactions, having real conversations. I even ran the numbers with ChatGPT and it projects I will make more money focusing local over the next decade than going with traditional publishers.
This morning, I woke up feeling deeply grateful to be spending what might be my last week in the house with my ex-wife and the kids. They went down the street to her parents’ house for pancakes while I started moving things into my new place. Around 8:30 a.m., I hauled one of the wooden chests my dad made—loudly rattling it down the street on a furniture mover. Then I packed my car with more stuff: a few boxes of my books, the AeroGarden, and another one of Dad’s handmade chests.
My dad never published books, but he was a creator in his own right. He made furniture—real, solid pieces that might last a century—and he always signed each one with his name, the year, and the location he built it. I love that thirty-plus years later, I’m still using his creations daily. That’s exactly what I want my books to be: something lasting, physical, meaningful. That’s what my videos never were. They lived for a moment, then disappeared into the algorithm. My books will be here long after I’m gone.
I’m genuinely excited to move into my new house now. I’m even more excited about dating again—about channeling that romantic energy into life, meeting someone new, feeling inspired. I know it’s going to generate amazing material for future books.
Later in the morning, I went to the 10 a.m. yoga class at my yoga studio. I arrived a few minutes early and stood at the back of the room, scanning for a good spot to put my mat. After about two minutes of observation, I settled on a spot next to a man from yoga, who I’ve known for years. We’ve shared probably fifty or a hundred yoga classes, plus other events, so it felt comfortable.
To a man from yoga’s right was a woman who caught my eye—attractive, a little thicker but muscled, confident, with a warm, natural presence. She had short hair, a healthy glow, and skin complexion very close to mine. From the back of the room, I noticed she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which was later confirmed when I walked up.
I wanted to test out my “pickup energy” again—to see how I carried myself now that I’m actually single and available. I set my mat down beside her and settled in. She didn’t make direct eye contact, but when I was looking for a place to set up, she had looked back in my direction—just briefly, but enough for me to feel that moment of acknowledgment.
I know some people would call that reading too much into things, but I trust the subtle cues between people. I believe in telepathic connection, in energy exchange that happens before words. Most people are too distracted to notice it, but when you pay attention, it’s real. I’ve learned to trust it over the years—and while I don’t always get it perfectly right, I’ve confirmed enough of those instincts to know they matter.
A yoga instructor led a great flow that morning—grounded, smooth, and energizing. I left feeling proud of how open and alive I felt again. It was nice to just be in the room, breathing, moving, noticing. For the first time since the divorce chat, I felt overcome with curiousity about who I might meet next.
After the 75-minute yoga class, I decided I would pay close attention to the girl next to me to see if she showed any body language suggesting interest in talking. If she did, I’d go for it—just start a natural conversation, stay present, and really listen.
Almost immediately after class ended, she gave me one of the clearest signals I could imagine. She turned her whole body toward me and sat cross-legged, facing directly in my direction, even though we hadn’t made eye contact or exchanged a single word. To me, that was about as direct a green light as I could get.
So, I talked to her. We started chatting, and I found out she plays tennis—which instantly made me light up. I love tennis, so I asked if she’d like to play sometime. She said she and her husband both play and offered to exchange numbers. I took her up on it.
I laughed and told her that I’d spent a year getting my ex-wife into tennis and that she’d just started playing too. It felt a little funny saying that, given that I’m technically still married but already emotionally single. I’m in that in-between space where I can honestly say, “I can be married or single, whatever you want.”
It felt a bit abrupt to hear her mention her husband, but I didn’t let it throw me off. I’m happy to play tennis with anyone, especially someone friendly and fun. I’d gladly hit with her husband too. What I want more than anything right now is to play—more actual matches, less time spent on lessons. Lessons have been great, but sometimes they get in the way of just enjoying the game.
After class, I felt electric. Confident. Alive. It’s like my “pickup energy,” that ability to approach someone new, is sharper and freer than it’s ever been. I have no hesitation anymore. If I walk into a room and see a girl I find attractive and I sense she’s open, I can easily start a conversation, stay connected, and ask for her number if it feels right. And if she’s married or not interested, that’s fine too. What I love most is how open I feel now—to connection, to possibility, to whoever’s meant to walk into my life next. Whether it’s a tennis partner, a friend, or someone who ends up in my next book, I just want to keep following those sparks when I feel them.
When I get home, I make a simple lunch—noodles with vegan butter and seasoning—since there’s barely any food left in the house. Our plan for the day is to restock at Whole Foods and Target, then take the kids to visit Roxanne, the dog we used to have before she went back to her foster family. We’d adopted Roxanne and her sister Melanie together for a few months, but the sisters started fighting. Roxanne began biting Melanie, and we eventually chose to return her. The foster family ended up adopting her themselves, and they’ve taken great care of her. They live over in a nearby town, so we plan to visit after shopping.
At Whole Foods, I let both kids take their own carts. It’s adorable watching them fill them up like little adults, choosing what they want. I tell myself I’m not going to nitpick. They can pick almost anything. We end up buying a bottle of fresh-squeezed orange juice for $19, which tastes incredible but makes me laugh at how overpriced it is compared to the $5 bottles sitting right next to it.
We stock up—hummus, a couple of frozen pizzas, chicken noodle soup from the hot bar, and tons of fruits and vegetables. When it’s time to check out, both kids insist on using the self-checkout. Each one picks a register, and they scan everything themselves. I help my son with bagging while my daughter insists on doing hers entirely solo.
My daughter’s total comes to $160, and my son’s is $186. As I watch the totals climb, I feel that little flicker of fear about money. I have almost nothing coming in right now, and here I am dropping $350 on groceries. My mind starts whispering that I should be worried—but I push the thought away. I remind myself that money has always shown up when I needed it, and it will again. I’m paying with credit anyway, and if something changes, I’ll adjust. For now, I trust the Universe—and I’m grateful to be able to feed my family good food.
After Whole Foods, we head over to a foster family’s house in a nearby town. It’s great seeing her, her husband, and their kids again—and of course, seeing Roxanne. She’s still as loving as ever, a German Shepherd–Shar Pei mix with that classic shepherd face and a little of the Shar Pei’s loose skin around her neck. She recognizes us right away and does her signature move—leaning her body against us like she’s giving a hug. It’s such a sweet, grounding feeling.
The kids take turns petting her and laughing. A foster family’s son shows my son the RV trailer their family just bought for $10,000. It’s surprisingly spacious—room for four to sleep, plus a kitchen and bathroom with a shower. I can’t help thinking how practical it would be to have something like that myself. I imagine parking one in my mom’s yard or in my ex-wife’s backyard—my own little minimalist home.
But when we meet my ex-wife later at Target, I bring up the trailer idea, and she shoots it down immediately. She’s right, though. It’s fun to fantasize about, but not realistic. Setting one up would require thousands of dollars for plumbing and electrical connections, not to mention maintenance. It’s not the life I want to build right now. Still, I’m glad I let myself dream for a moment. Sometimes even a fleeting idea can make the whole day feel lighter.
At Target, my ex-wife grabs one of those huge carts where both kids can sit in the back with a full-sized basket in the front. It’s one of those carts that can do a full 360-degree spin—it looks ridiculous but handles like a dream. The kids love it. We start in the home section where the diffusers are buy-one-get-one-free, so we each grab one. My ex-wife insists on paying for both, which is sweet of her. I also pick up a new tennis racket for $25—nothing fancy, but it feels solid and I could use a backup. My ex-wife gets one too. She double-checks that there’s no one else I’d rather rotate onto the family membership at the tennis club, and I tell her of course not. She’s just paid for the last couple of months herself and will be covering the next month or two as well. Plus, she’ll be taking the kids there often, and we can all use the pool.
My son and I had thought about going to the tennis club tonight, but it starts raining, so we head home instead. I also grab a lava lamp while we’re at Target—something about it just feels fun and nostalgic. It’s been at least ten years since I’ve had one. I set it up in the new house along with the diffuser and some essential oils to help mask the faint smoke smell that lingers from whoever lived there before. The owner did a good job cleaning, but there’s still that unmistakable stale edge in the air. Between the diffuser and the lava lamp’s slow-moving glow, the place already feels more alive. My son’s fascinated watching the lava heat up, waiting for the first bubbles to rise.
After setting everything up, we walk over to my mom’s house. The kids immediately dive into their favorite activity there—drawing. My mom has an incredible stash of markers, colored pencils, and art supplies, enough to keep them entertained for hours without screens. It’s one of my favorite things to see: their creativity bursting out in real time.
Tonight, they’re drawing pictures of my mom’s dog, Scooby, in different seasons. My son draws “Summer Scooby” first, then makes a copy on the printer so he can take one home while my mom keeps the original. I love moments like this—quiet, simple, full of warmth and imagination.
At one point, I tell my son I want to split an ice cream sandwich with him. I explain that I don’t want the whole thing, but I do love a few bites for the taste. This turns into an impromptu life lesson on diminishing returns. I tell the kids that, for me, the first three bites of something sweet are always the best—after that, you’re mostly just getting fat and not even enjoying it anymore. To make it more fun, I give them an example: “Imagine if I gave you $15 the first time you farted, then $10 the next time, then $5, and then only $1 for every fart after that.” The kids burst out laughing while my mom rolls her eyes in mock disapproval.
We share the Oreo ice cream sandwich—two Oreo cookies with Oreo ice cream in between. I take three bites, hand it off to my son, and feel completely satisfied. The first bite was the best, the second and third were still good, but beyond that would’ve just been excess. Sometimes the sweet spot in life really is just three bites. It’s small, silly moments like this—teaching, laughing, eating ice cream with my son—that make all the heaviness of the divorce and moving out fade for a while. Tonight, everything feels strangely balanced again. Building a well-rounded life like this—kids, recovery, work, and real friends all in the mix—is exactly what I love helping people with, and you’re welcome to book a private call with me to build yours.
After leaving my mom’s house, I walk back across the street with the kids. Just as we get home, my sponsee calls and says he wants to go to a meeting tonight. I tell him I’d prefer to meet somewhere closer to my house. I’m tired of my old home group—it’s gotten repetitive—and I want to go somewhere with a true open discussion. He agrees, so we meet at a different group I used to attend.
The room is full, mostly newcomers. The topic for the night is letting go and moving on, which couldn’t be more perfect given everything I’m going through. When it’s my turn to share, I talk about the divorce again, how grateful I am to be sober through it, and how much easier it is to get divorced sober than to get sober while married.
By the time I finish, I’ve taken at least four or five minutes, but it feels worth it. I tell the group that, if you round to the nearest thousand dollars, I’m currently making zero dollars a month—and I have no idea exactly how I’m going to afford the rent for my new house. But I’m sure I’ll figure it out. And I say, “I sure as hell am not going to apply for a job.” The whole room bursts out laughing. That laughter feels good—it’s connection, not judgment. A few guys come up after and say they want my number, saying things like, “You’re an unusual guy.”
They’re right. I am unusual. It reminds me of the song Unusual, whose hook has stuck with me even though I haven’t heard it in years. That’s the kind of stickiness I want my books to have—something people remember long after they’ve closed the pages.
After the meeting, I come home, get the kids settled, and put them to bed. I’m honestly looking forward to having my own place partly so I can have my own private space without feeling awkward about being in my ex-wife’s house.
Once I’ve showered, my ex-wife comes out from putting the kids to bed, and we talk about my new business plan. I tell her how grateful I am that ChatGPT helped me think through what I really want to do—stay local, focus on my books, and offer something personal. What I want to sell is simple: two hours with me. I see the funnel clearly now. First, I give someone a book. The book inspires them to visit my website. And my website leads them straight to scheduling a one-on-one session with me.
I think about one of the studio’s co-owners at The my yoga studio. She’s hosting an event at her house on November 11th—twelve people for a two-hour meditation and sound bath in her garden. Tickets are $25 each. And while that’s nice, I’d personally rather pay $300 to have those same two hours with her alone. That’s the difference between a group experience and a one-on-one. You can make the same money, but the intimacy—the depth—is entirely different. Groups get tricky. One-on-one is where the real magic happens.
It hits me: that’s exactly what I need to offer. For anyone who’s read my books this far, what they probably want most is just to talk—to connect directly, privately, without distractions. No two or three other people. No performance. Just an open, honest conversation.
That’s also where I shine the most. In one-on-one settings, people can really open up. They can ask me anything, say anything, and I can do the same. If you’ve read my books, you already know how raw I am on the page. Imagine that same energy in person. That’s the experience I want to sell—and the one I’m most excited to give. I’m grateful tonight because I’ve consistently felt upbeat and genuinely excited for the future. After a week of emotional turbulence, I finally feel like my normal self again, which is such a blessing.
At the meeting tonight, there was a fellow member I’ve known for six or seven years. As she shared, I could hear the pain and fury in her voice—she said she felt filled with anger and completely out of control. She wrapped up her share with a sharp “and that’s it,” but when someone thanked her, she said she wasn’t actually finished. The timing made it sound like he was cutting her off, and she got upset. She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
I thought about getting up to talk with her, to see if I could help calm her down, but I sensed she wasn’t open to that yet. Some people need to burn through the emotion first before they can hear anyone else.
After the meeting, I talked with another fellow member I’ve known for years. I told her I felt like the opposite of the angry woman from earlier tonight. Even with a divorce underway and financial uncertainty hanging over me, I still feel extremely grounded and centered. It’s such a contrast to those chaotic, uncontrollable emotional states I used to live in.
I told her that the only reason I’m able to feel this peaceful now is because back when I was in those angry states, I made a firm decision that I didn’t want to live that way anymore—and I started doing whatever it took to stop. That decision built the life I have now, where I can feel every emotion fully without losing control of my mind or my body.
When I asked her how she’d been, she said, “Well, we’ve only got today anyway.” I smiled and told her she was right—but that momentum really helps. I could tell she felt uncomfortable, and I remembered the last time we’d talked, months ago, when she told me about her partner. I realized the man sitting next to her tonight was him. She seemed surprised I remembered.
I reminded her that one of the most important parts of recovery, at least for me, is rigorous honesty. If someone asks how long you’ve been sober, the honest thing to do is just answer. It’s crazy how often people hide their number of days sober out of fear of judgment. But if you can’t even tell the truth about that, how can you stay sober by living an honest program?
That’s usually why people dodge the question. Still, I hope she finds her footing. What strikes me most isn’t any particular setback—it’s that I don’t always see a real desire for the struggle to end. That’s the crazy thing about suffering: sometimes we think we want it to stop, but deep down there’s a part of us that clings to it. It’s familiar. It’s dramatic. It gives us an identity.
The real shift happens when you can see that part of yourself clearly—when you recognize the part that loves to suffer—and ask, Who is that? Is that really me? Do I actually want to keep living this way? For me, the answer is no. I’ve learned that I can choose to stop suffering whenever I’m ready. The clearest sign that I’ve made that choice is when I reach out for help. Because the moment I ask for help, I’ve already stopped feeding the pain. I’ve already started healing. If you’re ready to reach out for help with something you’ve been carrying, you can set up a call with me and we’ll talk it through together.
Continuing
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
Walking Away to Make Room for My Real Work
Originally published September 21, 2025.
This is my journal entry from September 21, 2025, part of my daily autobiography The Kind Divorce — my real, unedited days, published in order.
Today feels like a turning point—the day to decide whether or not I’ll officially cancel massage school. I’m leaning heavily toward yes, but I want to talk with my friend a friend first, the same person who originally encouraged me to become a massage therapist. Before making any big decisions, I start the morning by cleaning up around the house, putting things in order. Then I head to the 10 a.m. Sunday class at my yoga studio Yoga.
After class, I run into one of the women I’d given a copy of Author in St. Petersburg to. She told me she’d read the first sixty pages and found it unlike anything she’d ever read. She said the book’s level of honesty shocked her—how I wrote openly about sex, video game addiction, alcoholism, marriage, life coaching, and quitting my business online. She said most people would never share that much of themselves, and that reading it made her both fascinated and uncomfortable.
She admitted that the discomfort came from fear—fear of how people might react to that kind of raw honesty. She told me that fear of people was a bigger theme in her life too. She often stays home, isolated, keeping up with the world by watching the news or scrolling through social media, afraid to really engage. As she spoke, I realized that my own fear of giving out my books falls into that same category—fear of people. My books are so vulnerable and unfiltered that every time I hand one to someone, I feel exposed. I worry about their reactions, about triggering someone, about being judged for writing so openly about the parts of life most people hide.
Still, I told her that while I understand that fear, there’s something I find far scarier: living my whole life in fear. I said that to me, it’s much worse to reach your deathbed and realize you never truly lived because you spent your entire existence playing it safe. I’d rather risk rejection, embarrassment, or discomfort than live a half-life built around survival instincts. I mentioned a line I’d once heard from another book—someone wondering on their deathbed, What if I lived my life all wrong? That question haunts me. It’s what pushes me to be brave enough to live honestly.
Yes, I’m afraid of how people might react to my books. But that fear is part of what gives them meaning. This whole experience—this life—is temporary, and the only thing that makes it worthwhile is living it fully, not cautiously.
After that conversation, I talked with a friend, another friend from the yoga community, and he gave me one of the most memorable compliments I’ve ever received. He said that in his sixty-eight years on Earth, he’s met thousands of people, and only five have ever truly surprised him. I was one of them. He said most people are predictable—you talk to them for a few minutes, and you can already tell what they believe, what they’ll say next, and what opinions they’ll hold. But I didn’t fit that pattern.
That meant a lot to me. I didn’t even know what I’d done to surprise him, but I was grateful for the reflection because I feel the same way. I love being surprised by people who break the mold—people who don’t just echo what they’ve heard, who don’t live inside a single ideology or identity. Most people, once they tell you what they read, watch, or listen to, have already revealed everything else about their worldview. But I love when someone keeps me guessing, when they’re alive in their own way of thinking.
A friend’s compliment reminded me that I am that kind of person too—unpredictable, alive, and not just nodding along to what others say. I’m constantly reflecting, questioning, and creating. And maybe that’s what surprises people most: that I’m not afraid to think for myself, to live out loud, and to be honest about every part of it.
After coming home from yoga, I called a friend, and we talked for over an hour. Most of the conversation was about massage and the real-life experience of working as a therapist. A friend had just graduated from the massage school and recently started working at a spa. She told me that last week she did fourteen massages in two days and then had to take two full days off to recover. That alone said a lot. She reminded me that school only gets harder from here—clinics, longer sessions, more pressure.
A friend made a point to say that she still believes I could be a great massage therapist. She said that again with the same conviction she had a month ago when she first inspired me to enroll. But the practical reality for me has become clear: being a massage therapist just doesn’t make sense compared to writing books and helping other people create theirs.
After talking to ChatGPT last night, then discussing things with my ex-wife this morning, I know where my energy belongs. Writing and publishing feel like my purpose. Giving someone a book—whether it’s mine or one I helped them write—feels like transferring a part of my soul, a massive exchange of energy. Strangely, giving a massage never felt that way to me. I expected it to, but even though I was physically closer to people in massage school, it often felt less personal. Especially after reading the ethics material, which basically encourages therapists to keep things impersonal, the contrast became even sharper. Books, on the other hand, are deeply personal. They connect minds, hearts, and experiences across time. That’s what I want to do with my life. If you feel that same pull to live more honestly and put your real life into your own words, you can schedule a private call with me and we’ll build it together.
Later in the day, I stopped by Whole Foods and ran into my yoga instructor from my yoga studio and her girlfriend. I told her I’d be back in her yoga classes now that I’d left massage school. She smiled and said something like, “It’s nice that you tried,” and I agreed. That’s exactly how I see it. I’m grateful for the experience—it broke up my usual rhythm and gave me new perspective—but I have zero interest in going back tomorrow.
It also felt great to skip the 7 p.m. AA meeting tonight. I’m planning to go to plenty more soon—probably seven in a row, maybe even twelve over the next couple of weeks—but tonight I just wanted space. Instead, I spent a couple of hours editing I Was Famous on the Internet, and it felt incredible. I could easily spend five or ten hours a day working on books and feel completely fulfilled.
I loved diving back into the manuscript, especially with my new mindset: one single pass, then publish. I’ll save further edits for later, based on reader feedback or when I eventually record the audiobook. Sometimes it’s hard to edit something right after you’ve written it—you’re too close to it. But tonight, it felt right. Focused. Final. Like I’d made the right choice in every way.
When my ex-wife came in for bedtime, we ended up talking for two hours—one of those long, deep conversations that touched everything: our sex life, our fears, and the patterns that have shaped our relationship. She told me she’s still afraid of me because of how I’ve behaved in the past. I listened and then reminded her that I’m not afraid of her. That fear isn’t something I carry toward her, and it’s something she’ll need to work through on her side. I told her honestly that I enjoy our relationship and want it to feel safe and loving for both of us.
She was frustrated about something I’d said earlier—what she called an ultimatum about having sex every day. I explained that what I meant wasn’t rigid or demanding. I wasn’t saying it had to be every day. What I wanted was a happy, playful, regular sex life—something we both look forward to. Lately, she’s been showing up consistently, which I appreciate, but too often it feels like she’s just going through the motions, doing it out of obligation. That kind of energy kills the joy for me. I told her I want our intimacy to feel alive, fun, and spontaneous—not heavy, resentful, or mechanical.
I also clarified that for me, consistency matters—not perfection. It doesn’t have to be daily, but I’d like it to be more days than not. To me, a thriving sex life is something you practice regularly. It doesn’t have to look the same each time or even involve the same kind of connection. I’m open to all kinds of experiences—what matters most is that it’s shared, that we both feel good, and that it’s infused with joy rather than pressure.
To explain what I meant, I made an analogy with tennis. I told her about my match with a friend—the one where I tried too hard to win because I was afraid that if I didn’t keep it competitive, he wouldn’t want to play with me anymore. I was so focused on performing that I stopped having fun, and ironically, I played terribly. The next day, I had a breakthrough. I decided to stop caring about winning altogether. I just wanted to enjoy the game. The moment I relaxed, my shots started landing, and I played better than ever.
I told my ex-wife I think the same dynamic applies to our sex life. She’s trying too hard. She’s putting so much pressure on herself to meet expectations—her own and mine—that it’s strangling the fun. I told her to just relax, to stop overthinking it, and to show up with curiosity instead of anxiety.
She said, “I can’t do that. It’s high stakes. Our marriage could fall apart if this doesn’t work.”
And that’s when it clicked for me. I told her she’s doing the same thing I did with a friend. She’s afraid of failing, afraid that if she can’t keep up with me sexually, I’ll leave. I said that’s exactly why she can’t relax—because she’s playing not to lose instead of playing to have fun. I told her the only way to truly enjoy it is to let go of that fear, even if it means facing the worst-case scenario.
I said, “If you can’t have fun with me—if you can’t show up joyfully and playfully in our sex life—then maybe we should get divorced because I want to be with someone who can match that energy.” It’s not that I want a divorce—it’s that the metaphor fits. Like tennis, it’s about compatibility and joy. If a friend and I couldn’t have fun together on the court, we’d both be better off playing with other partners. The same principle applies to marriage, even if it’s much harder to face.
My ex-wife said, “But it’s not like tennis. You can’t just walk away from a marriage that easily.”
I agreed. “You’re right,” I said. “It’s not easy. But it’s the same idea. We must relax and enjoy each other, or there’s no point.” I meant it from a place of love, not threat. I want our relationship to feel light again—to be something we both play, not something we endure.
I told my ex-wife that, sure, in the worst-case scenario, if I play tennis and don’t have fun for an hour or two, it’s not the end of the world. If a friend and I stop enjoying it, we can simply stop playing. But in our marriage, if my ex-wife and I keep showing up to the bedroom and neither of us feels fulfilled—if our sex life feels forced or empty—that’s far more painful. It’s like I’m “winning” all the time in tennis terms, but she can’t keep up, and she’s only there out of obligation because I want someone to play with. That’s not what I want for either of us.
I told her that, ultimately, it would be better for us to split up than to keep showing up for something that isn’t joyful. Our happiness must come first. If that means we both eventually find other people who make us feel alive and connected again, that’s still better than staying stuck in a pattern of misery. I said this calmly, not as a threat, but as a truth about what a relationship should be—two people choosing joy together, not enduring it separately. If you’re sitting with a hard decision like this in your own relationship, you’re welcome to schedule a one-on-one call with me and talk it through honestly with me.
Ironically, once we reached that level of honesty, something shifted. The tension dissolved, and a sense of playfulness returned between us. We shared a light, fun, and surprisingly intimate moment together. That simple moment of connection meant a lot—not just physically, but emotionally.
I found myself deeply grateful for my ex-wife’s ability to stay present in such a vulnerable conversation. That’s one of the things I find most attractive about her. We can discuss hard things—sex, fear, resentment, uncertainty—and still keep our hearts open. We didn’t spiral into argument or drama. We stayed connected, aware, and loving. That’s rare.
When I see other attractive women now, I often think about that. Could you have a difficult discussion with love and self-awareness? Could you hold space for the hardest truths and still laugh afterward? That’s the kind of connection I value most.
By the end of the night, both of us felt peaceful and close. We didn’t get to bed until after midnight, but we went to sleep happy—grateful for each other and ready to bring more love and joy into our relationship moving forward.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
When the Rules Crushed My Vision
Originally published September 20, 2025.
This is my journal entry from September 20, 2025, part of my daily autobiography The Kind Divorce — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I think I finally figured out what’s been wrong. This morning I went to my 8:30 AA meeting and had a nice time sharing and connecting with people. Three people said they’d be coming to the new AA meeting I just started, which is now officially listed in the Where & When and in the AA app online. That made me genuinely happy—it felt like the group was becoming real. Still, when I got home afterward, I was hit with the same heavy sadness. I couldn’t shake it. My mood has been unusually low for days now, and I still couldn’t tell exactly why.
Later, I met up with a friend to play tennis, hoping some movement would help. We played at a park. I was so down I barely cared, and it showed—I lost the first set 6–1. I was relaxed from all the massages yesterday but emotionally stuck, torn between wanting to play well and not wanting to force it. When a friend went up 3–0 in the second set, something in me snapped. I said, “Fuck it.” I decided to stop caring about winning or losing. I even said to myself, I hope I hit every shot out. I just wanted to have fun again.
I threw my shirt off—it’s a public park, so I could—and suddenly something shifted. The moment I stopped trying, I started playing beautifully. My shots flowed naturally, faster and cleaner. I came back to tie the set. A friend needed a few games to adjust because I was now hitting everything in with power and confidence. I even hit one shot so hard that even though he was way back at the baseline, he could barely get his racket on it. The ball exploded off his strings and shot away helplessly. It caught him completely off guard because I’d been playing so casually until then. That was the first game he lost all set.
I won a few more games before he regained his rhythm and barely edged out the win 6–4. Still, it was so much more fun once I’d stopped caring. We both laughed a lot, especially when a friend started clowning around. On one point, he actually hit the ball using a granny-style basketball motion from underneath with his racket and somehow won the point. We couldn’t stop laughing.
After the match, I got home a little after two, ate some guacamole, showered, and sat down to start working on my ethics assignment for massage school. We have an Ethics for Massage Therapists booklet we print online, and I needed to finish reading and answering the questions before Monday. It’s our first real homework. I’d wanted to study for the upcoming anatomy and physiology quiz, but there was too much reading here to ignore, so I dove into ethics first.
That’s when everything started to click—and not in a pleasant way. As I read, I started to feel both awful and enlightened at the same time. The ethics book talked about how massage therapists must maintain clear boundaries and avoid personal or emotionally intimate relationships with clients. It said we shouldn’t think of clients as friends or discuss personal topics like sex, relationships, money, or health. As soon as I read that, my stomach sank. I realized just how consistently I’ve pushed those boundaries over the years.
I love connecting with people deeply, and I’ve always seen my therapists as friends. I often open up about very personal things, and over time I’ll even tell them that I love them. Most of the time, they say they love me too. Reading the ethics material made me see how complicated—and inappropriate—that dynamic can be. I thought about how I consistently tip excessively, giving $100 on a 90-minute massage when the therapist might only be getting paid $30-something from the spa. The average client probably tipps $30 or $40, so my tips made me their best-paying customer by far. That inevitably created pressure for them to please me, to go along with whatever direction the conversation took, even if it crossed boundaries.
Sometimes, those blurred lines led to disaster. A therapist would start unloading their own problems onto me—dumping their personal drama during the session because they felt safe doing it. I’d leave drained and disappointed, realizing the session had turned into a therapy swap. Reading through that ethics material hit me hard. It showed me clearly how I’ve contributed to those blurred boundaries, and I couldn’t avoid seeing myself in those examples. It felt terrible, but it also gave me insight into why I’ve been feeling off lately.
The deeper I got into that ethics packet, the worse I felt. Some of the ideas I’d had for my massage and coaching business—things I thought were creative, compassionate, and even healing—turned out to be either frowned upon or outright illegal. I hadn’t done any of them, but realizing that my vision itself broke so many rules crushed me. I had imagined building a practice that felt deeply personal—friendly, emotionally connected, the kind of relationships where we might say “I love you” and genuinely know each other’s lives. I thought people would value that, that they’d pay well for it if I was open and transparent about what I offered.
But reading through the ethics material made it clear that even if I presented it honestly, it could still get me in serious trouble. If I built my website to reflect that personal level of connection, it would take almost nothing for someone to accuse me of being unethical. A jealous colleague or a dissatisfied client could point to my own writing as evidence, and I could easily lose my license. The thought of that devastated me. I don’t want to live in fear of being punished for being myself.
As I answered the homework questions, I felt disgusted. Not just frustrated—truly repulsed by how restrictive these rules are. I understand why they exist. They’re meant to protect clients, maintain professionalism, and prevent exploitation. But that’s not how I want to do business. I can’t imagine building something authentic by pretending these boundaries align with my nature. I’m not interested in crushing my vision just to conform to what the massage board thinks a therapist should be.
Then I learned that because massage is classified as health care in Florida, there are even more regulations. It’s illegal to offer referral commissions or financial kickbacks. I had hoped to create a generous affiliate-style system where anyone who referred a client would get 20% commissions for life. Apparently, that’s not allowed. And beyond that, I can’t legally choose clients based on preference. I can’t only work with people I like or invite certain people in for free sessions while charging others.
That realization really hit me. I’d pictured hand-selecting clients I felt drawn to—people I wanted to help—and maybe offering them free massages to build relationships and word of mouth. But reading through the laws, I saw how easily that could backfire. If word spread that I gave some people free sessions but charged others hundreds of dollars, it could be seen as discrimination. If anyone outside my circle felt excluded or treated unfairly, I could face legal complaints or even lose my license.
It was sobering. I’ve worked online for so long that I’ve grown used to a different kind of world, one where the rules are vague, rarely enforced, and easily sidestepped by insiders. On the internet, “terms and conditions” are more like guidelines—most at the top ignore them, and enforcement is inconsistent. But the real world doesn’t work that way. Here, the oversight is local and personal. Regulators know your name. The accountability is immediate.
Reading those pages made me see how drastically different the offline world is from the digital one I used to live in. Online, I could experiment freely and make my own rules. In massage therapy, one mistake—one misstep in ethics or communication—could destroy everything I’ve built. That contrast between the freedom of the internet and the rigidity of licensed health care hit me hard tonight. It left me wondering if this new path can ever really align with who I am.
When I think about how different local accountability is from the online world I came from, it really shocks me. During all my years publishing online, I uploaded thousands of videos and rarely had any issue with local authorities. There was only one real exception, years ago, involving a business I’d once promoted in a video. When questions came up locally, I cooperated fully with what was asked of me. That experience taught me how directly accountability can reach you in the offline world. Out of everything I posted over the years, that was the only situation that ever drew official attention.
Massage, on the other hand, is the opposite. It’s entirely local, and the oversight is close and personal. Every session happens face-to-face, every client interaction is traceable, and the laws are written at the state level. I realized that if I’m publishing books while practicing massage, I could get myself in trouble without even meaning to—especially if I ever wrote about a client experience, even indirectly. Some of what I’ve already written could even be seen as problematic. In Author in St. Petersburg, for example, there are passages where I discuss interactions with massage therapists that might raise ethical red flags if taken out of context.
Reading the ethics packet while already feeling low sent me deeper into frustration. What started as sadness turned into full-blown anger and despair. I felt trapped—like the very system meant to protect people was stifling everything creative and human about the work.
Thankfully, the day took a lighter turn. The perfect opportunity for a date came up with my ex-wife, and we decided to drive fifty minutes down to a town about an hour away for dinner at a sushi restaurant—our favorite place. We sat together watching doubles tennis on the TV while eating, and for a little while, everything felt peaceful again. I’d been worried she might be upset about me quitting massage school or about how uncertain my direction feels right now, but she wasn’t. She seemed calm, grounded, and genuinely supportive. She told me she’s been working on having a more accepting attitude through Al-Anon, and I was deeply grateful for that. Her openness helped pull me out of my own head. She shared some of her recent insights and experiences, which gave me perspective and reminded me that not everything needs to make perfect sense right away.
Even with that, I was still low by the end of the night. It’s unusual for me to feel depressed for an entire day straight, but I remembered something I’d said in an AA meeting yesterday—that I’m proud I can handle the full range of emotions life gives me. I can feel incredible joy or deep sadness, and I don’t need to drink, use drugs, or take anything to change it. I don’t need to explain it away or escape it. I can stay sober, face whatever comes, and recognize that my feelings are often signals—calls to action. If staying sober through the full range of what you feel is something you’re working on too, you can schedule a private call with me, and we’ll walk through the hard days together.
Still, after reading that ethics book, guilt lingered. I realized I might have put a massage therapist in a difficult position because of her connection to the massage school. I’d offered to help her write a book and trade services with her for massage, but now I don’t know if that’s wise. If I’m not going to continue massage school, I don’t see the point in driving all the way to Sarasota for sessions, and I don’t have a space for her to come here even if she wanted to. The truth is, I think I’m a complicated client for her. I admire her as a therapist, but the things I tend to talk about could easily blur lines and make things awkward for her professionally. It might be better for her career if I step back altogether.
Tomorrow, I plan to talk with my friend a friend about all of this—both about leaving the school and about massage marketing in general. She’s the one who originally encouraged me to attend massage school, so it feels right to discuss it with her. And at least now, after everything I’ve learned these past few weeks, I’ll be able to help her better with her marketing. I just have to remember to keep ethics in mind and be careful not to make her marketing too personal or emotionally intimate. It’s strange how quickly I’ve gone from seeing massage as an open, expressive art form to realizing how much of it is constrained by boundaries and rules—but that’s where I am tonight.
I wrapped up the evening by asking ChatGPT what it thought about my situation, and the feedback it gave was incredible. I don’t want to replace real human conversation with AI, but ChatGPT has a way of helping me see things clearly—like talking to a mirror that actually answers back. I told it about everything: how much I love dictating books, how I’ve been thinking about quitting massage school, and my decade-long history of creating content.
ChatGPT pointed out something that immediately lit me up—it said I could help other people turn their stories into books. It explained that people regularly pay anywhere from $2,500 to $10,000 for that kind of service, and that it’s something I could do easily, or even trade for other services if I wanted. It reminded me that if I treat my writing, speaking, and coaching as my real profession, and keep putting consistent time into my books, that path will eventually pay off through speaking engagements and coaching opportunities—especially if I position book creation as a primary income stream.
It clicked in a personal way because a massage therapist had told me just yesterday that she’s always wanted to write a book. People have been telling her she should, and when I asked what kind of story she wanted to tell, she lit up. I told her I could help her make it happen, and she mentioned that she listens to audiobooks all the time. I said, Perfect—I already have a recording studio. We could make your audiobook too. ChatGPT pointed out that I could charge $5,000 for that service alone—helping someone use my studio to record an audiobook. Compared to the time and effort of doing dozens of massages, that’s a much better return for something that comes naturally to me.
I went back and forth with ChatGPT through three or four messages, guided by prompts from The Book of Beautiful Questions, which I’ve been reading. That book helped me ask better questions, and ChatGPT always gives better answers when I know what to ask. I asked it directly, What are my blind spots? What am I missing here?
Its response blew me away. It said, Books aren’t just for readers anymore—they’re positioning tools. A book in someone’s hand isn’t just a story; it’s proof you’re an authority. That struck me deeply. I started imagining my name on shelves: books on dating, health, authorship, internet fame—fifteen more across fiction and nonfiction—and then adding the books I could co-create with others, turning their dictations into something publishable. That’s a real library of authority, something tangible that shows mastery.
Then ChatGPT said one of my blind spots might be how I define “a waste of time.” It reminded me that I’ve been conditioned to equate productivity with instant results—views, likes, sales—the dopamine loop of internet metrics. So when I spend hours dictating a book and don’t see feedback right away, it feels like I’m wasting time. It used my Author in St. Petersburg book as an example. I spent a month dictating it and have only heard back from one person so far—a text message saying they were enjoying it. I’ve given away maybe ten copies and gotten one piece of feedback.
ChatGPT said, You’ve been trained to equate output with immediate payoff, but books are slow-compounding assets. The reward comes later—but it multiplies. Books don’t chase attention—they build legacy. You underestimate how rare your skill set is. Most people can’t—or won’t—finish a book. You can dictate, rewrite, design covers, and publish fast. That’s a real superpower, but you treat it as ordinary because it’s easy for you.
That conversation changed the tone of my whole night. It reframed everything I’ve been struggling with. Maybe I don’t need to chase external validation or fit into the narrow box of massage ethics. Maybe I just need to focus on the creative gifts that already come naturally to me and use them to help others share their voices too.
What I really appreciate about using an AI assistant like ChatGPT is that it offers a perspective few people can. It pointed out something deeply valuable—something that hasn’t come up in conversations with anyone else. It has a broader view than I do. It helped me see that I truly underestimate how rare my skill set is and how much people would be willing to pay for what I can do, especially since there’s nobody locally offering anything like it. If you’re staring down a decision like whether to walk away from something and want a real outside perspective from someone who has actually done it, you can schedule a one-on-one call with me to talk it through with me.
ChatGPT also said that massage school simply scratched an itch for getting out of the house—and that I can fulfill that same need in other ways. It reframed everything in a way that made perfect sense. Then it laid out what it called my “hidden opportunities”: books as a service. Interview people. Transcribe their stories. Rewrite, publish, package, and price them as finished works.
It reminded me that I already validated this idea through bartering with my therapist. She’s genuinely interested in having her life story turned into a book, and she’s been thinking about it seriously. ChatGPT said that’s real proof of concept. I even told her she wouldn’t need to pay me any money—just give me massages in trade, and I’d create her whole book. I love that idea, helping someone I actually know bring their story to life. ChatGPT suggested that once I start offering that service more formally, I could easily charge at least $2,500 per book, paid in full upfront. That made perfect sense—there’s too much work involved to do it on credit.
It also suggested something I hadn’t thought of before: micro-memoirs. Instead of full 200-page books, I could offer shorter, 40-page legacy books for around $1,000. Most people could afford that, and I could finish them quickly. I immediately thought of all the people I know in their 60s and 70s who have stories worth preserving—people with the means and the desire to leave something meaningful behind. Helping them capture their memories for their families would be both simple and fulfilling. It’s such a clear, tangible service—something I’d genuinely enjoy doing.
Then I told ChatGPT about my fear of handing my books out. I explained that I don’t sugarcoat sensitive subjects. My Author in St. Petersburg book dives into graphic detail about sex, explores ideas about changing my race, and discusses personal experiences from massage school and my yoga studio. I’ve worried that distributing it too freely could get me kicked out of massage school, alienate people in AA, or make others in the yoga or massage community uncomfortable. I told it that I’ve been scared because I’m not some vanilla author—I tell the truth exactly as it is.
ChatGPT’s response was simple: That’s your brand. Own it. Position myself as a brutally honest author. The readers who resonate with that level of truth-telling will find me because I go into those places others avoid.
It also reminded me that I could easily overcome the issue of not making immediate income. I realized it didn’t even know the full financial picture—that if I quit massage school right now, I’d save tens of thousands of dollars in tuition. That’s money I could instead use to print around 3,000 books. The thought of that blew me away. I imagined giving away 3,000 physical copies around St. Petersburg—my books circulating everywhere, my name and story woven through the community. Even just handing out ten copies over the past month has already felt rewarding. I can only imagine what three thousand could do.
When I asked if physical books still made sense in a digital world, ChatGPT said, Yes—books aren’t what they used to be, but they still signal authority, outlast digital media, open doors, and anchor your identity. That felt right. Books make something permanent. They give form to who I am.
By the end of the conversation, I felt immense gratitude. I decided I’ll sleep on my next step before making any final decision about quitting massage school, but deep down, I suspect I already know. The choice feels made. I could push through a little longer just to see if things improve, or convince myself to stay for my classmates’ sake. But honestly, it feels like dating—it’s easier to walk away early than to stay too long and make it harder later.
Withdrawing
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.
If You're in Your 30s, Lost, and Feel Like You've Achieved Nothing
From my video published February 25, 2024.
If you're in your 30s and you're lost and you feel like you've achieved nothing in your life, you're in luck, because you found this and there is still time. I've got great news: all of the mess that your life has been so far, all that feels like wasted time and nothing accomplished, is actually gold that will help you build the life of your dreams going forward. I'll tell you my own experience, so you know I'm doing this right along with you.
When I was 29, right when I turned 30, I was looking at my life. I was in Alcoholics Anonymous, just a few months into getting sober. I wrote out the story of my life — 10,000 words, an honest story leaving nothing out, putting all the ugly details in — and realizing, how did I get here? I later turned that into my life story in 10 minutes. The best part of my life by far was my wife, and I had a house and dogs I enjoyed. But my career? I had totally made a mess of being an entrepreneur. I'd wasted my money and my health. I weighed 80 more pounds than I do now — how I lost those 80 pounds came later. My body hurt, my mind was sick, and I felt lonely, isolated, and hopeless. I kept asking, how did I get here? I looked at my entire life and realized that I had made one choice after another to get where I was. And then the real question: where do I want to go from here?
Stop thinking about where you've been; start thinking about where you want to go
If you'll stop thinking about where you've been and start thinking about where you want to go — and how what you've been through can help you get there — that's where everything will change for you. That's where the magic happens. When I was sick, and the people I see in my life today who are sick, who I try to spend as little time with as possible, all they do is think about how things were: what's wrong, who's wrong, I'm a victim. And yet they go around causing all this chaos and trouble and never changing.
Simple little affirmations can help you change. Say: I am changing. I am willing to change. Ask questions like, how can what I've been through help someone else? You'd be amazed at how this works.
How this started for me in Alcoholics Anonymous
When I was in Alcoholics Anonymous, I was very sick. All I had to offer the group was a chance for them to help me. All that was coming out of my mouth was BS and trying to act — and then finally admitting, hey, I hate my life, I'm throwing it away, I can't stop, I don't like doing this. I don't like being sober, because I am not happy being sober, which is why I drink. I'd share it like that, I'd get honest, and then all these people would help me. And by helping me, they felt useful. They got to share all the messes that had happened in their own lives, they got to help me learn from their experience — from their addictions, from their struggles — and I got to take their life lessons on.
From there, that's where I realized my life has a purpose. And you don't need to define your life in terms of how much money you've got in the bank, how many likes you're getting on posts, how many views you're getting online, or how many subscribers you have.
Ty: a template for how your life can have meaning
I'll give you a very clear example of how you can have an incredibly meaningful life and, at least externally — the way what you might think of as the matrix, or the world, defines success — have almost nothing. There was a guy named Ty in Alcoholics Anonymous who has passed on and is happy for me to share his story with you.
In terms of what the world would think of Ty, he was a great guy who would blend right in. He was in his 70s. He had enough cash to get by, but he was certainly not rich. In terms of his career, there was nothing noteworthy that stood out. I believe he had a kid he didn't talk to, so in terms of being a parent there was no major success there either. He was a regular-looking old guy you'd pass on the street without a second thought. He had no list of accomplishments, no resume to impress you. In almost every way, he was an ordinary guy.
But Ty helped me massively. Ty was the first one I did a detailed fifth step with — that's a confession in Alcoholics Anonymous. I told him all my worst secrets, all my craziest thoughts, everything I had never wanted to share with anybody else in my whole life — things going all the way back to being a little kid that I'd never talked about with anyone. I unloaded all of it on Ty.
And Ty shared his life with me. His life growing up was brutal, and his history with addiction was thorough and deep. He had experienced much longer-lasting addiction than I had. Some of the addictions I'd struggled with while I was drinking, he had struggled with for years while he was sober. And he shared, and he helped me massively. He helped a bunch of other people around the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous change their lives and feel loved. When Ty died, it was as devastating to me as when I lost my father a couple of years before that.
This, I hope, is a template for you to see how your life can have meaning. Ty is one of the people I think of when I think of the people I've really loved in my life and who've made a huge difference — my mother and father, my brother, my wife, my kids, Ty, and a few others. Ty has been like a hero to me.
And yet if you'd looked at Ty in his 30s, he was just trying to get sober. His life was an utter mess. He hadn't accomplished anything. He'd been in the Navy for a while but got out. He went from one job to another in the middle of all his addictions. If you'd seen Ty in his 30s, from what he told me, it didn't look good at all — his life was a complete wreck, which is why he came to Alcoholics Anonymous in his late 30s.
If your life isn't going the way you want, that's good motivation to change
So if your life is not going the way you want it to, that's good motivation to change. If you don't feel like you've accomplished anything, there are one or two things going on.
One: you don't have proper perspective
The first — you don't have proper perspective about your life. And that is probably the number one issue. If you think you're in your 30s and your life's going nowhere and you feel totally unsatisfied, you probably are lacking proper perspective.
If you'll let other people help you, get to know other people, connect with more people, and get out there — places like Alcoholics Anonymous, or Al-Anon if you have alcoholic friends and family, or church groups, or all kinds of places in your community, or even online — you can get out there and help someone, serve someone else, share your experience, or make videos. You can be there for someone else. And that will help you get perspective on your life. It's the same reason I keep putting my own life out there in my Life playlist — sharing what I've been through is how I stay connected and useful.
The reason so many of you think your life is going so poorly is because you don't understand what's going on in other people's lives, and you don't understand how big a part of some people's lives you really are, and how much of a difference you really do make.
There are all kinds of people I come across in my life who I think of. I had a friend in college who passed away a few months ago — I hadn't seen him in about nine years before he passed, and I've had dreams about him. I was just telling my family how he and his wife and I went to St. Petersburg, Florida, where I live now; the first time I ever went was with them, back in 2009. I still think of him. I had a dream last night about a girl I was with for a week, like 10 — God, 15 years ago now. She's still a part of my life. Not much of a part — I don't think of her often, and she doesn't watch any of my videos, because she gets enough of me in person — but there are so many connections you have with people. If you're in this negative state of mind, making yourself worthless, you're blind to what a big part of so many people's lives you are. And you're even more blind to how you could be a hero, the way Ty was in my life — how you could be a hero in someone else's life.
Two: you have the perspective, and people are already telling you
The second — some of you do have proper perspective, and everyone in your life is already telling you. In my 20s, everyone in my life was telling me: you abuse alcohol, why are you doing this, what are you doing with your life? Everyone was making it clear that I was making bad choices, that there were better ones available, and that they'd be happy to help if I would be willing to accept it.
So many of you just don't have proper perspective — and you can get it by asking other people. Ask them, what do you think of my life? Ask for advice. I ran into a lady in AA the other day, after I'd shared about how I wake up feeling fantastic every day and I'm really excited for life. She said, that must be nice, because I wake up and it's a struggle for me just to feel okay. I told her: you don't have to keep feeling like that. You are choosing to feel like that. And I know, because when I used to wake up like that, I was making choices that led to me feeling like that — like staying up too late. Every little thing you do impacts how you feel.
If you'll go ask other people for advice, some will absolutely give you bad advice — but the bad advice will stand out against the good. If you ask everybody in your life for advice, for help, for feedback, and you just take the best of what everybody gives you, you'll be amazed how well life can go for you.
Wayne Dyer didn't even really begin until his late 30s
I think often of Wayne Dyer. Wayne Dyer's life was not going that well in his 30s, and he hadn't written any of his books — until he was 38 or so, when he wrote Your Erroneous Zones. Wayne Dyer is another one of my heroes; I've listened to hundreds and hundreds of hours of his talks. He got sober in Alcoholics Anonymous, and that was a gateway for him. He had a transformational experience where he went to the grave of his father — the father who had walked out on him and his mother when he was a baby, who he'd carried all this anger and resentment toward — and he finally healed that anger and resentment in his late 30s. From there, he wrote Your Erroneous Zones. And from there, it was over 30 years of him working before I ever found him. So the work he did didn't even really begin in his 30s — it took decades before it would reach me and I'd find it helpful.
So if you take care of yourself, you have a lot of time potentially left. Wayne Dyer was working into his 70s, doing talks and sharing his life experience.
Your mess is the gold that lets you help someone else
I was a police officer before. You can read those stories in my life story and the rest of my autobiography. I'm really grateful for all the crazy times I had in my life — being a police officer, all the drama — because now I can better help you. If I had just "done my life right," if I'd been smart all the time and everything had gone great for me, I couldn't relate to you. But if you're struggling and you feel lost and hopeless, I can relate to you, because I've been there and I got out of there. I'm not there anymore, and I haven't been in a long time.
Some days in my business, I feel a little struggle, a little frustrated, a little hopeless. And all I do now is say: I'm willing to change. Let me get the ideas that will help me. That's how I got inspired to start sharing these thoughts in the first place — and it looks like this is going to really rip, because I've been on YouTube since 2011. I know what to do: take model approaches that have worked in the past, and do them in my own voice.
You can be a hero in many people's lives. If all you have to work with today is a mess, failure, and struggle, you're in a position where all of that gives you experience that is genuinely useful — useful to help others, to lift others out of the same situation. But you more than likely need to join Jerry Banfield Family and let me help you there first, because when you're in the mess, you're not in a good position to do it alone. It's like drowning: when you're drowning, you're not in a position to save someone else. But when you can swim, when you're strong, then you can get out there and help the people who are drowning. You can understand how they got there and how they feel, and you can help them not go back.
My goal is to lift you up. And if you want to keep going right now, you can watch my newest videos in my Life playlist. I am really excited to see what you do with everything you've been through.