
Recovery Through Love. No Anesthesia. No Bullshit. 🥰
A Christmas letter to my estranged daughters. This year cracked me open in the best possible way — therapy, bipolar treatment, transformation. I’m not the same person I was. I’m not asking them to forget the past. I’m asking for a future where we get to find out who we’ve all become. I miss them…
I grew up hearing “big boys don’t cry” and “shut up or I’ll give you something to cry about.” Turns out, so did a guy with two professor parents and a “Leave it to Beaver” childhood. Same message, different delivery. Same result: shame baked in so deep it ran my life for decades. Tonight I…
I spent weeks brushing off the warning signs. By Saturday night I was drunk, paranoid, isolating, and convinced my life needed to end. Bipolar had full control and I refused every single person who tried to help. It took two syringes and a really long nap to slow me down. I’m out now, stable, sober,…
The last few weeks have been some of the best of my life and some of the hardest. New partnerships, 17 mile walks, personal records, full heart. Also: a shame tornado, then a shame hurricane, then a second wave that took everything out. On my 199th day without smoking I had a lit cigarette in…
Do something every day that scares you. I mean it. Vulnerability isn’t weakness — it’s the whole damn engine. It’s where love, intimacy, shame-death, and real change live. Brené Brown nailed it over and over, so I’m sharing my favorites here alongside what I know to be true from my own life: when you can…