This is my journal entry from December 15, 2025, part of my daily autobiography Divorce Day — my real, unedited days, published in order.
I got up early today because my ex-wife had a test she was taking in Sarasota, so I went over and met her at her place early in the morning. After that I talked with ChatGPT for a little while about my business letter, took the kids to school, and then headed over to my yoga studio. When I got there, a girl I’ve known for years came in and I said hi to her as she walked in. She didn’t seem very happy to see me, but she did say hi back. In an unusual move today, I placed my mat toward the back of the room. I just thought, you know, I think I’m going to try a different position today. I didn’t think much of it, but the girl I’d said hi to ended up in front of me and a little to the right. I’ve seen her at my yoga studio for years and talked with her a bunch of different times. The first time I actually talked to her, I’d already seen her there for at least a year and had never even said hi. When I finally did, she told me she really appreciated me saying something, so it seemed like we had a pretty good connection.
A few months ago I gave her my Author in St. Petersburg book, and more recently I gave her I Was Famous on the Internet as well, which of course had my phone number in it. I had a nice Power Flow class with a yoga instructor today and felt good after the class. When it finished, I walked outside and talked on the phone with my ex-wife for a minute. After I got off the phone, the girl walked out of class wearing a Christmas sweater, a nice one, and I told her, “That’s a nice Christmas sweater. I like your color. It’s a good winter vibe.” After that I packed up all my stuff, got in the car, and went to Whole Foods. I came home, unloaded everything, and then headed to my AA meeting. At this point you might be thinking, God damn, that was a boring story. What was the point of telling all those mundane details? Just hold on a minute. It’ll make sense in a moment. You’ve got to wait for it.
I went to the AA meeting with my sponsor today because I just had a feeling it would be a cool place to go. When I got there, the girl whose phone number I got last week at the meeting was there. At first I thought, fuck, I don’t need to see her right now. Then immediately after that I thought, oh, yay, she’s here. Happy to see her. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be happy to see her. What am I thinking? I said hi and found myself checking her out a bit. I thought to myself that she’s definitely attractive. She’s really attractive in some ways, more so than someone I’d been involved with a month and a half earlier. I actually went over that diary entry today. It had been a month and a half since I’d been with anyone, and I was feeling that. I’ve decided I’m no longer interested in paying for any kind of company; I’d rather just be patient and meet someone naturally, even if that means adjusting my expectations a little. Anyway, she waves, says hi, smiles, and I glance at her a few times during the meeting while it goes along.
Eventually I get called on to share. People are talking about how God provides for all their needs and takes care of everything for them. When I first came into AA, I hated that God stuff. I remember one time somebody started talking about God and I thought, fuck that, I’m just going to ignore this and hope I can get sober without it. The phrase “as you understand Him” left me feeling like there was an opening where I could create my own idea of God. When I heard someone say they were an atheist or an agnostic and still got sober, I thought, all right, maybe this can work. Today I shared that a lot of what people credit to God is really the subconscious. It’s your subconscious. When you pray, for example. When I prayed on April 22, 2014, I said, “God, please, I’ll do anything to get sober.” Then right after that the thought came: well, going to AA would be part of anything you just offered.
Some people hear a story like that and immediately assume it must be some kind of magical intervention from God. I see it differently. What’s really happening is the subconscious mind doing exactly what it is designed to do. Your brain is an incredibly sophisticated system, far more advanced than something like ChatGPT, constantly processing huge amounts of information and navigating real-world complexity that we mostly take for granted. When you give that system an input, it produces an output. If you tell it, “I want to get sober. Tell me how to do it,” it begins searching through everything it already knows to generate a possible response.
That’s essentially what happened to me. When I said I would do anything to get sober, my mind produced the thought that maybe I should go to an AA meeting. There was nothing mysterious about that idea appearing. My brain already had information about Alcoholics Anonymous stored in it. I knew my ex-wife had a boss who had been sober in AA for five years. I had watched Fight Club. I had even attended an AA meeting before. All of that information was already there, so when I asked myself what to do, my mind simply assembled a logical suggestion from what it knew. It was a completely normal response from the subconscious, not some impossible or miraculous moment.
What concerns me is how quickly people give away their own power by attributing something like that entirely to God. When you frame it that way, you begin to treat yourself as if you have no agency in the process. You stop recognizing that your own mind is capable of generating solutions based on the programming you’ve taken in over time. When I got sober, I realized that I had spent years absorbing terrible programming, and if I wanted different results I needed to deliberately reprogram my subconscious.
The way you do that is through repetition. You show up to AA meetings again and again. You read books. You listen to new ideas. You expose your mind to different patterns until they begin replacing the old ones. Over time those repetitions become the new routines your subconscious reaches for when something happens. Eleven years ago, when I felt disturbed and asked myself what to do, the automatic answer was to drink. Today, when I notice my feelings are hurt or something has upset me, drinking is no longer the response that appears in my mind. That shift happened because I retrained my subconscious through repetition in AA, reading, and other tools like hypnotherapy.
I try to explain this because the process is actually very understandable when you look at it clearly. It’s not mysterious or unknowable. Your mind responds to the patterns you repeatedly feed it. When people believe they are simply being carried through life by some external force, they often overlook how much influence they actually have over their own habits and thinking. Recognizing that influence is what allowed me to change the routines that once controlled my behavior.
While I was sharing some of this at the meeting, people were laughing along with parts of it. I’ve noticed that the more I listen to stand-up comedy, the more that rhythm shows up when I talk. Recently I started listening to Deon Cole’s newest stand-up special, Charlene’s Boy on Netflix, and it had me laughing the whole time. His delivery and timing are so good that I found myself completely cracked up through most of it, which probably explains why a bit of that comedic energy came out while I was telling the story.
After the meeting, there was a woman who had come in a little late and sat back to my right. When she arrived, she smiled and I waved to her. I had already been thinking earlier in the day that the next time she came to a meeting I was going to ask for her phone number. I was waiting for the right moment, and as soon as the Lord’s Prayer ended I moved quickly. She was standing there looking at her phone while people were around her talking, so I walked straight over and said it was good to see her. She said it was good to see me too, opened her arms, and gave me a big hug. I told her it had been about a month since I’d seen her and that I’d like to see her again sooner, then asked if she would give me her number so we could intentionally meet up at meetings more often.
She said that sounded great. I handed her my phone, she typed her number into it, and then we both went off to talk with other people. After that I talked with a few more people at the meeting and gave away one of my books. Getting the number felt like moving into position going forward. The number is the gateway. If anything is going to happen, the number is the gateway to making it happen. It also made me think about a girl from yoga two years ago whose number I never asked for, which still feels like a missed opportunity when I think about it.
While I was driving home, I got a call from my yoga studio. One of the managers told me that a woman had complained that, based on what she had read in my books and a conversation with me in class, she did not feel comfortable around me. The manager explained that it is important for women to feel safe in the studio because yoga can leave people feeling physically exposed and vulnerable. She said that although she had never personally seen me behave inappropriately, the complaint still mattered and needed to be addressed. She also suggested that I avoid talking to women in class and asked that I stop bringing my books to the studio because they did not want anyone to think my yoga studio was promoting them.
I told her that this was the second situation like this that had come up in about a month and that I was finished having conversations like this. In my view, the honorable thing would have been for the woman to speak to me directly instead of going to management. If someone has a problem with me, I would rather they talk to me face to face so we can address it directly. I have always appreciated the women I have built tension with who were willing to speak openly with me in person. Direct communication feels far more respectful than hearing about a complaint after the fact through someone else.
I remember a situation four years ago with a woman I had a crush on. She came up to me directly and said, “Hey, you have a wife. You’re saying you love me, hugging me, texting me, and it makes me a little uncomfortable.” I told her to relax and explained that I loved her in a friendly way and that I was in a closed relationship, so it was meant to be platonic. She seemed satisfied with that explanation, but afterward I felt unsettled. Looking back now, I understand why. What I had really hoped for in that moment was exactly what she had brought up, except that I would have needed to divorce my ex-wife first. I did like her, and I enjoyed how much she liked me, but I tried to frame the whole thing as harmless friendship instead of acknowledging what was actually there.
So the call with the studio manager continued for about twelve minutes, and by the end of it I told her that maybe this was simply a sign that I should go somewhere else and meet new people. There are plenty of places in St. Petersburg where I can work out or practice yoga, places where I might fit in better and be appreciated differently, whether that’s Crunch Fitness or other yoga and Pilates studios around town. I told her that if the expectation was that I shouldn’t be talking with women at the studio or building connections there, then it probably wasn’t the right environment for me anymore. It seemed strange to hear that expectation when I’ve watched people socialize, flirt, and connect in that space for years.
The conversation also made me reflect on the broader tension around men and women interacting in environments like yoga classes. Studios often encourage a very open, social atmosphere, and people show up dressed in ways that are comfortable for movement but also visually revealing. At the same time, there can be an expectation that everyone should move through the space without noticing or responding to attraction at all. That contradiction has always seemed unrealistic to me. When men and women share spaces where they see each other regularly, attraction is going to happen sometimes. Pretending otherwise doesn’t change that dynamic.
By the end of the call I told her to cancel my membership. What made the situation complicated is that many of the people there genuinely like me and have been friendly to me over the years. Still, the conversation left me feeling like the only acceptable role was to show up quietly, keep to myself, and leave without interacting. That didn’t feel honest to who I’ve been in that community. When she mentioned that she had noticed me talking with women more since my divorce, I pointed out that I had been talking with women there the entire time, even when I was married. Those interactions weren’t new. They were simply more visible now that my life circumstances had changed.
After the call ended, I thought about something from No More Mr. Nice Guy. The idea is that when someone pulls you into a conversation where the goal is to frame you as the problem or pressure you into changing in ways that don’t feel right, you don’t have to stay in that conversation. You can simply step away from it. Looking back, I realized that once the discussion started moving in that direction, it probably would have been better to end it sooner instead of staying on the phone and trying to argue my way through it.
I believe in trying to resolve conflicts and work through difficult conversations. But when it becomes clear that the conversation is really a breakup, that is on me to recognize and shut it down. I can still say that I care about the woman who called me. We had gotten along well and shared plenty of good conversations, and I have a lot of appreciation for her. She was simply delivering the message on behalf of the environment she works in. From my perspective, though, that environment no longer feels like a place where I fit or where I’m welcome, so it doesn’t make sense for me to keep showing up there.
Looking at the situation, it also struck me how uneven the expectations can feel in spaces like that. Relationships and connections clearly happen among people in the studio, yet the message I received was that even friendly interaction with women could be seen as inappropriate. That contradiction is hard to ignore. If the standard is that people should not form personal connections there, then it should apply equally to everyone. Instead, the message seemed to be directed specifically at me, which reinforced the feeling that it was time for me to move on.
What I took away from the experience is that when someone approaches me with the energy of telling me that who I am or how I interact with people is fundamentally wrong, I do not have to stay in that conversation. The healthier response is simply to step away. I can do that calmly and respectfully by saying that I’m not interested in continuing the discussion and that I’ll go somewhere else. That kind of boundary keeps me from getting pulled into arguments where the goal is to make me feel like the problem.
I’ve had similar moments in other settings, including recovery meetings, where people suggested that certain topics I talk about should be off limits. My view is that honesty matters more than trying to sanitize life experiences. When I speak openly about things like relationships, sexuality, or mistakes I’ve made, the intention is not to shock people but to tell the truth about my life. I’m not describing anything illegal or harmful. I’m talking about ordinary experiences and sometimes trying to bring humor into them.
What matters most to me is continuing to live honestly and having the courage to be myself even when some people don’t like it. Being open about who I am will inevitably attract some criticism, but it also helps the people who resonate with that honesty. I’d rather stand by that than shrink myself to avoid conflict. If a place or a conversation requires me to become someone else in order to fit, then it’s probably a sign that it’s time for me to move on and find environments where I can show up as I am.
Part of me feels like I already wrote almost this exact diary entry a month ago. At least in that situation the woman didn’t go complain to management. Then again, I can’t even be sure who actually said something. It might not have been the woman I was thinking about today. It could just as easily have been the woman working at the front desk yesterday. I realized while thinking about it that there is even more I want to say about the situation. If someone cannot handle hearing another person talk honestly about an ordinary life, that says more about them than it does about the person telling the story. I’m describing normal, legal, everyday experiences, the kind of things most people deal with privately but rarely say out loud.
The way I interpret what might be happening with this woman is that she probably does like me. I had a similar situation a couple of years ago when I had a crush on someone at the studio. When people feel a strong attraction that they cannot act on, the tension can show up in strange ways. My guess is that part of her enjoys being desired, and I have definitely been attracted to her. At the same time, she’s married, and that creates a conflict. Instead of confronting those mixed feelings directly, it may be easier for someone to create distance or frame the situation as a problem with the other person. As someone who has been through a nearly completed divorce, I understand how complicated those emotions can get when things at home are uncertain.
From my perspective, though, I had never taken the situation outside the normal boundaries of the studio. I never asked for her number, never tried to meet up outside of class, and kept the interaction friendly and ordinary. Most people would probably see that as normal behavior in a shared community space. Because of that, I find it hard to understand what she might imagine could happen there that would make the situation unsafe. The studio is a public environment where people are constantly moving around each other. There has never been any suggestion of predatory behavior.
What I wish had happened instead is a direct conversation. If she had come to me and said there was something uncomfortable about the dynamic between us, I would have respected that immediately. I would have been completely willing to switch classes or create some distance if that helped her feel more comfortable. In fact, I would have respected the courage it takes to say something like that directly. A straightforward conversation allows both people to address the issue honestly instead of letting it grow into something bigger through assumptions or secondhand reports.
As I think about all this, I also notice the irony that here I am venting about someone behind their back while wishing they had spoken to me directly. At a certain point, the frustration spills out in blunt language, and I know that kind of tone can be jarring to read. But the underlying point remains the same. Directness and honesty are what I respect most in other people, even when the conversation is uncomfortable. It seems possible that this girl sensed the sexual tension between us and felt uncomfortable with it. I can understand that reaction. In fact, part of me feels grateful to both her and the manager who called me because the whole experience is pushing me to get out and meet new people instead of staying stuck in the same routine.
At my yoga studio I know so many people that I end up saying hello to the same familiar faces every time. This morning I probably greeted ten or fifteen people in class, and because of that it actually becomes harder to talk to someone new. I spend most of the time catching up with people I already know. Now that I won’t be going there, I’ll naturally start meeting people in other places. Some of the people from the studio might still reach out since a few of them have my phone number from my book. I even caught myself wishing I had asked for the number of a married woman I saw there yesterday whom I hadn’t seen in months. She clearly likes me, and I’m almost certain she wasn’t the person who complained. Still, my mind keeps trying to figure out who it might have been, even though I don’t actually know for sure.
When I explained the situation to friends, I tried to describe it as neutrally as I could, though of course I’m still only telling my side of the story. Every person I talked to had the same reaction: they thought it was strange and said they wouldn’t go back if they were in my position. Some of the men I’ve talked with, including a few who have complicated pasts themselves, suggested that maybe I should feel more guilt about making someone uncomfortable. My perspective is that attraction and energy between people is natural, and when someone is comfortable and grounded they usually handle that energy without fear. I’ve seen that kind of ease before. Just last night at a tantra speed-dating event the atmosphere felt relaxed and open, with people expressing interest and curiosity without tension.
One of the women there dropped a bead into my pouch as part of the exercise, which meant she was interested in connecting later. I sent her an email afterward and caught myself checking my inbox a few times, wondering if she’d reply. It had only been a few hours, but it was funny noticing how quickly my mind wanted an answer. Experiences like that remind me that attraction, curiosity, and desire are normal parts of being around other people.
As my thoughts kept going, they drifted into broader frustrations about how complicated the dynamics between men and women can become in modern culture. People often talk about the world as if one group holds all the power and the other group is always the victim, but real life rarely fits into such simple categories. Human relationships are messy, full of contradictions, and shaped by people’s personal choices. In the end, I’m still trying to sort out my own reactions and assumptions about what happened, recognizing that my interpretation is only one possible explanation among many.
After that call I went home and felt pretty lousy. To lift my mood a little I put on Deon Cole’s comedy special, which helped. Laughing at things usually does help, even when the situation is frustrating. Later I went to pick the kids up from school and took them home. After talking with my ex-wife about what had happened, she told me I should definitely find another place to go. She thought the situation was ridiculous, and I agreed with her, though at the same time I felt grateful for the push to try somewhere new.
I was very comfortable at my yoga studio. I had a lot of friends there and a real sense of community, which made it hard to imagine leaving. Now that the decision has essentially been made for me, I’m looking forward to seeing what it’s like at other studios and meeting different people. There are plenty of places in St. Petersburg where I can practice yoga or work out, and it will probably be good for me to step outside the familiar circle I had there. I also found myself thinking about how I promote my books. Maybe I’ll be a little more discreet about handing them out in the future, or focus more on the titles meant for a broader audience. Part of me even likes the idea that these diaries might sit quietly for years before people discover them and realize how raw and honest they are.
Later in the day I decided I needed a way to burn off some of the frustration I was feeling. After talking with my ex-wife I drove over to Academy Sports with my daughter. My son surprisingly didn’t want to come along, so it ended up being just the two of us. I bought a pair of boxing gloves and a folding chair, and my daughter picked out a pair of shorts. We walked around the store together talking, and it was nice to spend that hour with her. After dropping her off I came back home, put the gloves on, and spent ten or twenty minutes hitting the punching bag at Crunch. I had to remind myself not to go too hard because my wrists still need time to strengthen up, but it felt good to move around and release some of the tension.
Later that evening I had dinner at my ex-wife’s house. At this point I realized I had been over there four or five times that day between everything going on. We sat outside for a while by the fire pit, then I went over to my mom’s house and told her what had happened. She also thought the whole situation sounded ridiculous and said it made sense for me to go somewhere else. I spent some time there with the kids while they watched a little Winnie the Pooh, then walked them back over to my ex-wife’s place before heading home.
When I got back to the my house, I started feeling a little lonely and briefly had the idea of downloading Hinge again. I actually asked ChatGPT to talk me out of it, and it did. Earlier in the day I had opened the app, swiped on a couple of profiles, and then started trying to think of something clever to write to someone. I looked at her profile and saw she didn’t want kids, which already made it a mismatch, and I realized I didn’t feel like spending my energy crafting messages that probably wouldn’t even get read. That was enough to close the app again. I don’t really need dating apps when I’m already meeting people in real life and having conversations face to face. To end the night I made a little popcorn with the air popper and finished listening to the rest of the Deon Cole special. It was still hilarious the second time around and kept me laughing through the evening, which was exactly what I needed after the kind of day I’d had.
Later in the evening I decided to get some work done. I opened up ChatGPT and went through the second and third diary books and part of the fifth one. As I worked through them, I noticed the writing starting to drift. It began inserting moralizing and reflective commentary that didn’t really belong there. That bothered me because I’m not trying to preach or tell anyone how to live. I’m tired of people doing that. When I talk about what I think an ideal way of living looks like, that’s simply my opinion. It’s not a prescription for anyone else. Every person is sovereign over their own life and gets to decide how they want to exist.
Thinking about that led me into a broader reflection on what I see as masculinity. To me, part of masculinity is standing in your sovereignty and holding your position, saying clearly, “This is where I stand.” I’ve noticed that a lot of that instinct seems to be discouraged or softened in modern culture. Even with my son, I can see that he has a different temperament than I did growing up. I was much more inclined to fight back physically when someone pushed me, and I still think there is value in having the ability to defend yourself. If someone crosses a line with you, there should be a capacity to push back instead of simply rolling over.
History offers examples of how complicated that question can be. In extreme situations, people often cooperate with authority because they believe it is reasonable or because they cannot imagine how far things might go. Sometimes that instinct works well, but other times it can leave people vulnerable when someone abuses power. The thought crossed my mind that if more people resisted immediately when the first injustice appeared, some tragedies might unfold very differently. When people assume the situation will stay reasonable, they often delay resisting until it is far too late.
That line of thinking also made me reflect on certain spiritual messages that emphasize constant positivity or passive acceptance. While there is value in compassion and restraint, those ideas can sometimes be interpreted in ways that discourage people from protecting themselves. For me, the healthier balance is recognizing both sides: being peaceful and cooperative when that approach makes sense, but also maintaining the ability to defend your home and your boundaries if someone threatens them. It is not about seeking conflict but about knowing that you are capable of standing your ground if it ever becomes necessary.
I remember telling the kids when I worked in corrections as a juvenile prison officer that one of the ways you survived in that environment was by showing people how far you were willing to go if they crossed you. Those kids generally didn’t mess with me much because I made it clear that I wasn’t someone to test. The point wasn’t actually to fight them but to establish a boundary so they understood that pushing me would have consequences. When people realize that someone is not easily intimidated, they usually stop trying to provoke them in the first place.
Thinking about that experience made me reflect on how much modern society encourages people to be agreeable and obedient. Cooperation and trust are normally good things, but when those instincts are pushed too far they can make people vulnerable to manipulation or abuse of authority. Throughout history there have been moments when ordinary people assumed the system would remain reasonable, only to discover too late that it had gone in a much darker direction. When people are conditioned to comply automatically, it becomes easier for those in power to push boundaries without resistance.
That idea also connects to how people reacted during the pandemic. Many people simply followed whatever instructions they were given, while others pushed back or questioned what they were being told. I was firmly in the group that resisted most of those directives and felt proud of the people who did the same. Even when I occasionally wore a mask just to avoid unnecessary confrontation, I still saw the larger situation as an example of how easily people can be pressured into behavior they might not otherwise choose.
The deeper lesson for me is about boundaries. If someone is telling you something that doesn’t sit right, you should be able to push back or walk away. Sometimes that means simply saying, “Thanks for sharing, but I’m not interested,” and moving on. Recognizing my own boundaries has been an important realization for me because I didn’t always see myself as someone who struggled with that. Now I understand that I don’t have to sit through conversations where someone is trying to frame me as the problem or pressure me to change who I am.
At the same time, I can hold two different feelings about the my yoga studio experience. Part of me is frustrated about how it ended, but another part of me is grateful. I had a good time there, especially during the years when I was married and building friendships in that community. Now that my life is different, it might be exactly the push I needed to explore new places, meet different people, and create new experiences. Instead of seeing it purely as a loss, I can also see it as an opening to something else.
If you connect with how I live and think, you can follow the rest of my days on YouTube in my Life playlist.