It took a lot to get here. To this point, to these words.
I didn’t know what I was doing, writing every day.
I wasn’t trying to “become a writer.”
I just had these ideas, these thoughts in my head, that I had to get out and into the world.
I was just trying to understand myself, and in doing that, I began to uncover layers of who I am - some that I didn’t even know existed.
Every time I put pen to paper, or my fingers to the keyboard, I was releasing a piece of myself that had been locked away for years.
Writing became my way of wrestling with the questions that kept me up at night the doubts that nagged at me, and the fears that controlled me.
It was never about crafting the perfect sentence or finding the right words—it was about giving a voice to the parts of me that had been silent for too long.
What I discovered along the way was that this process—
this simple act of writing—wasn’t just for me.
It was for my kids, who one day will face their own battles and need to know that their dad struggled too,
that he fought to understand himself, and that he found strength in the same chaos they might one day face.
It was for everyone who felt like they didn’t have a voice, for everyone who struggled with the weight of their own thoughts and emotions.
It was for the working man, who battles every day to find meaning in his labor, for the father who questions whether he’s doing right by his kids,
for the person who’s trying to navigate life’s complexities without a roadmap.
In writing, I found clarity.
I found a way to piece together the fragmented parts of my mind, to make sense of the chaos that sometimes overwhelms us all.
But more than that, I found a connection—to myself, to my past, to the future I want to build, and most importantly, to my children.
I found a way to write things down in order to bring them into existence. To make them real to me because it’s something I could never do in my own mind..
… to be continued.
This isn’t about being perfect or having all the answers. It’s about the honor in trying, in showing up every day, and in giving it your best shot, even when you’re not sure what that looks like. It’s about the resilience that comes from picking yourself up, time and time again.
Keep writing, keep reflecting, keep striving to understand yourself. There’s power in your words, even when you don’t realize it. And there’s power in your journey, no matter how uncertain it might feel. For me, it’s also about leaving a legacy—a guide for my kids, so they can see that their dad wasn’t afraid to face his struggles and that they, too, can find strength in their own story.
Let’s keep pushing forward together, embracing the struggle, and finding our way through the words we share.