Holding Pattern
You can be excited about where you're going and still grieve what you're leaving. Both things can be true. Right now, we're somewhere between what was and what comes next, surrounded by hotel coffee, storage units, trucks, and shitty Wi-Fi. The emergency has passed. The rebuilding is beginning. And we're doing it together.
Apparently, Talking Isn't Always Helping
I fucking love this woman, and when she's frustrated, every instinct inside me wants to fix things. Turns out, sometimes helping isn't solving. Sometimes helping isn't talking. Sometimes helping is finding some shade, drinking some fucking water, and shutting the hell up. Apparently, loving someone means learning that too.
Apparently, I'm a Victim Now
Apparently, writing about shitty things that happen to you means you've embraced a victimhood mentality. Except there's a pretty fucking important difference between acknowledging what happened and surrendering your agency because it happened. Sometimes you're a victim of circumstance. Sometimes somebody genuinely does something shitty to you. That's where the story begins. What you do next is the part that matters.
Balance (A Guest Blog by Dawna Russom)
What does safety actually feel like after a lifetime spent fighting for freedom, autonomy, and the right to make your own stupid decisions? Maybe it feels like sitting beside a powerful river without fearing the current. Maybe it feels like finally being seen and loved. And maybe, sometimes, it feels like having enough room in your life to get really fucking pissed off about a crappy mechanical pencil.
She Stayed
She was supposed to leave. Instead, she read what I'd written, saw that my heart was hurting, and stayed. Just a few more days, but sometimes love isn't about grand gestures. Sometimes it's simply looking at someone you care about and choosing them. And I'm still learning what the fuck it feels like to be chosen.
Seven Oysters
I spent the hours before proposing trying to understand why I was so fucking nervous when I already knew her answer. Then I stood in front of Dawna, trembling, said every word I'd been carrying for her, and asked her to marry me. She said yes. The oysters nearly didn't survive the occasion, but apparently even the universe wasn't going to fuck this one up.
The Responsible Thing
A friend suggested a motorcycle that sounded perfectly reasonable. Unfortunately, reasonable and I have a complicated relationship. After spending decades away from riding because someone else was afraid of motorcycles, I came back to them after nearly dying and discovered something important: I’m not giving up the things that make me feel alive again.
The Burden
Leadership isn't the meetings, the title, or the authority. It's the weight you carry home after everyone else has gone to bed. Four years after my cardiac arrests, sleep still eludes me, and on nights like this, I find myself lying awake, replaying conversations, questioning decisions, and worrying about people I'm not even empowered to help. That's the burden nobody tells you about.
The Guy Code
There are rules among men that nobody ever writes down, but everyone seems to understand. Veterans, bikers, and blue-collar guys have a habit of testing each other with sarcasm, insults, and relentless ribbing. As a transgender veteran, I don't always know which set of social rules I'm about to be judged by. Last weekend reminded me that sometimes the hardest part isn't surviving the test, it's explaining to the people you love why the test existed in the first place.
The Best Laid Plans
Sometimes the best weekends are the ones where absolutely nothing goes according to plan. A delayed motorcycle seat, a brutal ride across Colorado, missed events, and a chance conversation around a circle of folding chairs reminded me that life has a habit of changing the destination while you're still focused on the map.
Naked
Why is it easier for us to get naked than it is to tell someone how we actually feel? Somewhere along the way, we've convinced ourselves that exposing our hearts is more dangerous than exposing our bodies. Maybe it's time we started having the hard conversations before we need a bottle of whiskey to find the courage.
Forever
Sometimes the people who think they know your story know the least about it. While searching for what might become our forever home, an unexpected text dredged up old assumptions, old accusations, and old ghosts. Instead of reminding me of the past, though, it reminded me just how far Dawna and I have come, and how lucky I am to be building a future with the woman I love.
Competence Isn't Amazon Prime
Watching the morning crowd shuffle through a hotel breakfast got me thinking about something bigger than powdered eggs and mediocre sausage. Somewhere along the way, we've stopped learning how to do things for ourselves. We've outsourced competence, and I think we've lost something important in the process.
My Life. My Rules.
A mortgage application isn't really about buying a house. At least, not for me. It's about finally choosing to build the life I want instead of the life everyone else thinks I should have. Almost dying has a way of clarifying things. I'm done waiting for retirement to start living. The life I want begins now.
Three Things
Sometimes life has a funny way of reminding you what actually matters.
I thought I was leaving for Colorado on one motorcycle. Instead, a text message changed the entire weekend. Nyx was ready. The repairs were finished. The upgrades were done. And somewhere between picking up my bike and twisting the throttle for the first time, I realized my life had quietly become much simpler than I ever imagined.
There are only three things that truly matter anymore.
I Came Back
You spend years building a career, convinced that one day you'll finally earn a seat at the table. Then one morning you realize you've been standing outside the conference room the whole time.
I left an organization years ago because I believed it had become a good old boys club. Fifteen years later, I came back believing it had changed. This is the story of what happens when the place you wanted to finish your career starts feeling painfully familiar again.
Two Truths
Love isn't finding someone who always agrees with you. It's finding someone whose perspective is different enough to challenge your own, and caring enough to listen when you get it wrong. Our first disagreement wasn't a crack in the foundation. It was another brick laid with honesty, humility, and a willingness to grow together.
Independence
Some weekends change your life in quiet ways. This one is filled with firsts: our first real road trip together, my first morning writing while she sleeps peacefully nearby, and most importantly, the day she claims her own freedom by buying her first motorcycle. There couldn't be a more fitting day than Independence Day.