Anger Is Where I Go First
When things feel uncertain or overwhelming, I don’t feel anxious first. I feel angry. It’s my default response—fast, sharp, and familiar. I hate this about myself. I don’t want to live my life as an angry man, constantly irritated at the world and everyone in it. I know, logically, that my anger doesn’t actually hurt the people I’m angry at—it only eats away at me. And yet, there it is. Again and again.
I Don’t Actually Know What Thriving Looks Like Just Yet
I keep saying I want to thrive—but the truth is, I don’t actually know what thriving looks like just yet. What I do know is what thriving isn’t. I know what I’m done accepting and putting up with. I know what surviving has felt like, and I know what no longer fits.
There’s a lot of discomfort in ambiguity. In uncertainty. In the unknown. Taking a leap of faith is terrifying as hell. Just watch that scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and you’ll know exactly what I mean.
Cashing in my Mulligan
2025.
Well… that was... a year.
Like so many of you, I’ve been reading the year-end recaps — the honesty, the exhaustion, the collective sigh of “2025 was hard.” I feel that deeply. I see so many people saying they’re ready to let the heavy stuff go and finally receive goodness, peace, and joy.
Same. Loud same. If I’m being honest, 2025 sucked ass. It was a total kick in the face kind of year. One of those years where just when you think you’ve hit rock bottom, the floor drops out again. And again. And again.
There were moments I truly didn’t know how much more I could take — physically, emotionally, spiritually. It felt relentless. Exhausting. Heavy. Painful. Some days, survival was the only goal. Some days, I questioned everything.
And yet…
Welcome
This is a space for people who look like they’re doing fine—but know, deep down, that they were meant for more.
On paper, my life works. I’ve built a career, raised a family, stayed faithful, and done what was asked of me. I know how to be responsible. I know how to endure. I know how to keep things moving. What I’m learning—slowly and honestly—is that survival was never meant to be the whole story.