Ghosts of the Past

I haven’t talked about my “issues” here in a long time. Truth is, I haven’t felt bothered by them so there wasn’t a need.

Today, I’ve been overwhelmed with memories of my past. I can’t say anything triggered it. Maybe it’s just ‘my time of the month.’ I’m not depressed by the memories, even though most of them aren’t great. I just can’t seem to shake the progression. One memory will trigger another and down a rabbit hole of deep thought I go…

Anyhoo, it’s been mostly about my step-mother, her family, and my angst at them for never intervening when they saw my step-mother abuse me. I know they recognized it because I would sometimes overhear the adults (her siblings) asking my step-mother, “why are so mean to that boy?” My cousins would just ask me directly. Or they would discuss it amongst themselves in front of me. For many years growing up I worshipped and hated them at the same time. When my family from her side visited, I got a reprieve from the mental torment. It meant things would be more bearable, even if it was just a long weekend. Of course, when they left, I suffered even more for my apparent ‘slights’ while they had been visiting. It was in those moments I hated them most.

When I left home none of them made much effort to stay in touch. To be fair, neither did I. They represented a connection to “her” that was to be avoided. It wasn’t like I was overly stable anyway and there was no cell phones, texting, or even internet. But I didn’t understand that then. It’s only been in the last few years I’ve slowly opened a window to them on Facebook. Being an adult now, my view of them has been complicated. At first, I was resentful more of them didn’t reach out to me. But, I realized that wasn’t fair either. Their lives diverged from mine and I was a distant memory. They had as much reason to reach out to me as I did to them. And it wasn’t like I made a lot of effort either. I kept them at arms length. A small handful made an effort to at least reconnect and “know” me a bit. I’m grateful for that. Our lives are so distant and different so that is pretty much where it ends. We keep a cursory connection at best.

And as expected, many of them tend to be Trump supporters. This isn’t much of a surprise. I only mention it because I routinely chime in when I see them sharing absolute made up stories that reinforce their biases. Reconciling my childhood view of them with my adult exposure has been easier than expected. I’m not sure if that is a good thing or not. lol

Anyway, I don’t have any wisdom to share. I’m just putting thoughts to pad to help me drag the triggers and emotions out into my conscience id so I can examine them properly. I’ll post more if I figure anything of value out.

Fellow Traveler

As previously mentioned, I’m abandoning the one-word titles. They were fun for awhile but I’m over it. hehehe

I’m always tickled when I run into things that reinforce my thoughts or rants. After my post about my growth and life I ran into a buddy at the gym and we had a very interesting chat. It started as small talk and just a catch up. It turned into my buddy sharing with me how he recently attended a class that he felt was transformative and healing for him. I was hooked and shared a little about my struggles and how my blog helped me. I could have spent all night talking but he was still working out and I was on my way out. 

It was an affirmation for me though. It is rare for me to encounter someone who I feel is really working on personal growth. And that isn’t a jab at anyone, it’s just an observation. So many of us grow and struggle, but over time we develop coping-mechanisms to combat our failings and we just live with them. I’m always excited seeing that spark of excitement in someone’s eyes when they are discovering, or I should say rediscovering, themselves. I recommended one of my favorite books to him.1  I offered to grab lunch sometime and talk more. I hope he takes me up on it. 

It probably sounds silly but it revived a little of my own excitement. As mentioned, it was a simple yet very touching affirmation for me. It made me proud of my own work. I hope I get to share more with him. 




  1. How many of few long time readers remember? []

Nap

It’s been almost 6 months at my new gig at work and my body is still fighting the new schedule. I am just not an early to bed person. Getting up isn’t much of a struggle. As soon as the phone goes off, Cooper is up and at’em. If I don’t get up he is pawing at the bed in moments so any chance of falling back to sleep are slim to none. hehehe  Getting my ass into bed at a decent hour to get a full 8 hours is the problem. I hear people all the time talk about how little sleep they need (or get).  News flash, your body needs sleep. You can get by but in the long run it isn’t healthy. And if you’re an avid gym-goer like me, sleep is even more vital. 

I’ve embraced napping. I was never a big napper but I do often now. I struggled at first but my body seems to be adapting to it. I’ll rush home, get naked,crawl in bed, and turn all the lights out. Of course, Cooper has to nap with me! haha  IF I can get him to settle quickly, I can squeeze in a quick 20-30 minute nap before the gym. I’m usually groggy but I wake up pretty quickly and by the time I get the gym I feel more energized.

Frankly, I am just no good w/o sleep. This is probably why I spent 12 years working swing shift. I miss waking up when I wanted; having no alarms was awesome! Lawd, I miss those days. I highly recommend it if you get an opportunity. Anyway, back on topic, if I don’t get sleep, I’m a cranky bitch. Being on a 4-10 schedule makes it rough to get a lot of sleep. Ugh. I have to be disciplined or I end up screwed the next day. I start out with the best intentions, “I must get to bed on time, I must get to bed on time.”  That turns into, “well, I have 30 more minutes before I HAVE to be in bed.”  This doesn’t include the 30 mins it usually takes me to get ready for bed. Cooper has to be fed and walked. If I didn’t shower at the gym, I get my shower in before bed. I usually try to get my cl0thes out for the next day as well. And considering I give myself just enough time to wake up, get Cooper settled, and then out the door, there isn’t room for chores in the morning. 

To be fair, my body is slowly adjusting. I do find I get sleepier earlier now. I’m not quite on the old person schedule yet but I’m hoping I adjust soon. I hate the constant struggle against my schedule. I don’t know how my coworker does it with kids. I’d be a wreck. hahaha  Granted she doesn’t hit the weights 5 days a week but still. Being in TN this past weekend with my brother and his kids gave me a new perspective on raising kids. It ain’t for me! 

I’m gonna give it a full year to see if I can force my body to comply. If not, I’ll look into what it would take for me to switch back to a 5-8 schedule at work. It would be slightly more work for me and slightly less for my coworker but if I can’t force my rhythms to adjust, it would be worth it. On a related tangent, I almost quick this job a year into it on my own (after training). I got bumped to mids for 6 months and it was just awful. I could not sleep. I ended up getting sick twice and had I not been able to go back to swing shift at the next sign up, I would have quit. Clearly, I’m not giving up this asisgnment but I do think there would be some flexibility if I really needed it. 

As always, hope springs eternal…

Stuff

I haven’t really talked about my ‘stuff’ lately, or not in the sense I used to here. And that is totally a good thing! For over a decade, I’ve used my blog to air out my doubts, fears, demons, and general thoughts on life. I started out blogging for fun. It was new, exciting, and totally inline with a desire to chronicle my life. It quickly turned into an outlet to work on my failings. I felt adrift in so many ways for so long and finding an outlet that gave me an opportunity to focus on myself was a life-saver. I don’t say that casually. Thru my struggles here I have become a better person. And as I age and move thru life, the new habits are becoming set and I am stronger than I’ve ever been.1

*Note – This started as a quick update and Jesus, Mary, Joseph, & John it turned into a long winded rant! Grab some coffee*

Lately, in almost a weekly occurrence I’ve observed or experienced small happenings that I would have reacted to in a completely different (read ‘bad’) manner in the past. And I am continually grateful that I can see past things that would have also hurt me in the past.2 If anything, I’m feeling a little sad at how many people I encounter who are so adrift in life like I was for so many years.

I used to think what I did wasn’t really that unique. I’m discovering it really isn’t that common at all. And I’m not sure what made me unique. Was it the resilience I developed from years of mental abuse as a child? Was it learning how to be introspective? Was it blind fate? All of the above? I don’t know. It is hard to express outwardly how far I’ve come. I’ve gone on and on here ad-nauseam about it I’m sure. I struggle to put into words how my mental framework has shifted over the years. And to see me in person, you would notice some differences but you probably would never know otherwise.

I’ve always been good at hiding my personal demons. Call it an unexpected gift from childhood. Not many folks, even my closest friends, really knew how hard it was for me to get by at times. On a related tangent, as hard as my early life was, I was so rarely depressed. The brush with suicide gave me a renewed energy and to this day I can’t help but wonder if that one moment saved me continuously over and over. Now that I think about it, not being depressed made it quite easy to hide everything else. Back on topic, my crippled little id hopped along adapting or borrowing coping-mechanisms as fast as I could find them. The best and simplest exampled involved crossing the street. Yeah, you read it right. I would develop so much conflict in the act of crossing the street at an intersection when cars and people were present. There was this prevailing idea that every person in their fancy cars could see how worthless I was. And they were judging me for my failures and inadequacies. Inadequacy was at the heart of my existence then. I felt unworthy of the simple act of existing. And lest you think me joking, yes I felt that every time I crossed a f**king street alone!

Now imagine the conflict that ensued when my logical and not too terribly unintelligent mind ran into that every time I engaged in life events. Going to a bar was an experiment in how well I could hide the pain while desperately seeking someone to fill the void of loneliness, thru sex or companionship. Picture me trying to reconcile that I’d rather be a top in bed but felt so unworthy of the act I made myself bottom for others. Oh yeah, shit just got real! lolol I made myself into a stereotype (on varying levels) just so I could feel accepted. Most people would kill to avoid being a stereotype and there I was molding myself into one.

It easy for me to laugh now. And even though words fail me at times, these are the examples that really demonstrate the degree of dysfunction inflicted upon me. And to have successfully dragged myself out of that will always be my biggest life’s achievement. One might think it a low bar but such a simple change in focus radiates thru everything I do and am now.

Now I find myself struggling with a way to share this with others and help them grow. Trying to explain it doesn’t seem to do the trick. I’ve tried a few times and it didn’t work. How do you help someone see something they aren’t yet ready to see? I don’t have the answer for that one….yet! *scratches head*

Hope springs eternal…




  1. Who says a bitch can’t work on the outside AND the inside?! heehee []
  2. Hurt is such a simple word but covers a whole host of sins we inflict on ourselves or allow others to inflict upon us []

Family

This post has turned out to be a lot harder to write than I originally thought it would be. I’m digging into my past again and stirring up old memories. It is no secret I’ve never had very close family ties beyond my younger brother. I keep in loose contact w/my other siblings but my younger brother has always been the glue holding me to the family.

In a moment of ‘something’, I recently added my little brother to my FB profile. This of course creates a gateway to the rest of the extended family that he routinely communicates with. I’m still mixed up about it but I think it is time to either open the bridge to the extended family or tear it down completely.

Backing up a bit for a little history lesson, I was adopted as an infant. My foster mom died when I was around 5 years old. My dad re-married a few years later, my younger brother’s mom. I love my younger brother and I never once resented him but after he was born my step-mother changed. I never understood it then and I still don’t now. After his birth any feelings she had for me turned to resentment. And in that resentment she made my life a living hell. There are no words to explain the mental torment she put me thru on a daily basis for years. She was, and still is to a degree, the only person I ever truly hated in this life. She tormented me so much that at one brief moment somewhere around 10 or 12 I almost poisoned her to death. I covered the gory details in a previous post years ago. To this day I still bear the shame that I could even consider such an idea. But as a child then it seemed like the only escape. Even a child’s id eventually snaps. My younger brother of course doesn’t remember a lot of what I went thru. He was simply too young. And I know it hurts him to hear it so I’ve always avoided the subject with him.

It should come as no surprise now to know that when I did leave home it was freedom! I was finally free and she would never be able to hurt me again.1  Leaving early cost me as much as I gained. I spent a couple years being homeless in pursuit of stability. But even that wasn’t enough to send me back. I don’t think there was anything that could have driven me back. Frankly, I would have rather lived on the streets for the rest of my life than go back to the misery of before.

Later, after I moved to SF in my early thirties I struggled to find myself. Having finally gained some financial stability, I turned my attentions inward in an attempt to discover what type of man I wanted to become. I felt like a blank slate waiting for an imprint. I spent the better part of a decade conquering the insecurities and demons from childhood. I replaced self-loathing and abandonment with confidence and integrity built on the knowledge of who I am. I shed the ignorance and fear that crippled me for so long in my life.

For all my struggles over the years, I’ve kept a wall between myself and my extended family. It wasn’t hard. Distance, time, and logistics made it easy.  And to be honest, I resented them for many years. It doesn’t matter now that that resentment was misplaced. I was a child. I resented them because they saw what she did to me. In my eyes back then they saw what she did and yet did nothing. I can remember time and time again feeling elated and excited when the extended family would visit. It meant a reprieve from the mental abuse and I got much needed interactions. God, I must have looked so pathetic back then. This doe-eyed child practically begging for any scrap of attention. I also remember the absolute despair that would grip me when they left. When they left to go home it meant my reprieve was over. I guess it is no surprise I resented them somewhat.

But I am a man now and the pains of childhood are a distant memory. I harbor no more resentments. I harbor no fear over their acceptance of me, or not. They will or they won’t. That is their path. My life is my own and I will live it honestly and without fear.

Ironically, and on somewhat of a tangent, most of the extended family I miss were on my step-mother’s side. I learned many years later my adoption created a rift in my foster family. My foster mom’s family was very much against it. However, since it was my foster mom who made the decision, you can see why thy were distant. My dad’s side was more connected but living in a remote rural area and most of them being poor meant less contact. My step-family were a tad better off and we saw much more of them over the years. I guess it makes sense.

Back on point, it is time to shed the last of my walled gardens, so to speak. No matter the outcome, I will still be standing.

And you should know what I’m about to say now. hehehe 

Hope springs eternal…




  1. Sadly, even that turned out not to be true. []

Observed

In the vein of my last post I thought I share some follow up observations. Pride as a celebration/protest/march/event has changed. It continues to change every year. This should not be a surprise as our community has seen the fastest change in acceptance of any civil rights struggle in the last century. What Pride means to me is different from someone experiencing Pride for the first time. And of course, Pride as an event as always been a bit subjective. For some it is a celebration, for others it is a protest, and for some still it is an act of defiance.

The Pup and I did our first Pride together this year and I still found myself getting a little choked up. To my surprise, he mentioned to me later that he had as well. I often spend as much time looking out across the see of attendees as I do the parade participants. Looking out across the sea of people still gets to me every time. It reminds me of where I came from and where we are headed. It doesn’t matter if they represent me or look/act like me. No matter our differences in life, I always feel connected to them in a common thread that is humanity. We are all but mainstream now. For some that is a blessing and others see it as a curse. Either way, our often treasured events are no longer just ours. They are shared by others, some who just come to party. I don’t begrudge them.1  For me, Pride will always be a celebration of that dawning realization I was not alone.

That being said, the Pride of the 70’s/80’s/90’s is gone. As with life, all things change and as fast as we change, so does our celebrations. I do lament that many of the younger generation will never take the time to know the struggle of those before. They won’t know the pain, the heartache, and even death of the many souls who fought for us to be seen as humans; deserving of the same respect and treatment as our straight brethren. But having freedom doesn’t mean others should comply with my way of thinking or acting. The alphabet of letters we’ve assigned ourselves and others are all welcome at the table. Just as freedom should not be contingent on compliance or conformance, neither should equality.

*
Many of my frustrations with Pride (and other gay events) has little to do with us as a community and more with society as a whole. We devolving in many ways. If we don’t pull away from the indifference, selfishness, and anti-intellectualism that is plaguing our society, we are in big trouble. I fear for ‘our’ celebrations because of this. But I digress. Our own alphabet community, while tied together in common struggle, is beginning to unravel and fight against itself. Having tasted the sweet fruit of equality, we are abandoning our tolerance and acceptance of our differences. We see the world thru the lens of black and white and anyone who would disagree, even in the slightest, is often labeled the enemy.

There is an emergent polarization erupting in our rainbow colored spectrum. We have those who embrace our newfound equality and those who rail against it. The former are labeled sellouts and conformists and the latter are labeled freaks and anarchists. While both labels may be true in some instances, such overly broad generalizations are not helpful. Some of the antics from both sides in the last year have made me ashamed to be called gay.

Each of us is responsible for our actions. We can choose to mire ourselves in the obscurity of the masses because it is easy and comfortable. Or we can choose to lead a path of truth, even when it isn’t always convenient. You have to ask yourself, which path are you on?




  1. Even if I begrudge some of their drunken antics []

Home

Living in SF, I tend to be somewhat spoiled in many ways and am often reminded of that anytime I travel. SF is much more open, expressive, and accepting in many ways, including gays. It is referred to as a bubble for many reasons. During my recent trip to Nashville, I was reminded how very different said cultures can be. That is not to say one is bad or good. Nor is it to say one is necessary better than the other. They are just different. Some may appreciate comforts here not found elsewhere and vice-versa.

I bring it all up today as the trip sort of solidified my feelings about SF being my home. I was only gone a few days but I was truly homesick. It was the oddest thing. I was very happy to see my brother and my new nephew but I could not wait to get home. On the plane ride home I was anxious for the BART ride back into SF. I was very surprised at my reaction. I’ve been bemoaning the lack of any time outside of SF for a while now. With everything going on I haven’t had a real vacation away in several years. Yet, here I am only gone for 4 days and I couldn’t wait to get home!

I’ve always felt at home in SF but have often wondered if I have been limiting myself by saying I’d never move from here. I no longer think so. While I could leave, it would take some serious motivation. I love living in SF. The environment, attitudes, etc all mesh well with me. It has it’s problems and it certainly has things that drive me nuts but at the end of the day, I find it harder and harder to find other places in the US I’d rather live. I guess what I’m saying is I’m learning to appreciate my life in SF more. It was very much a whim and an interest that brought me here. And while I think I’ve appreciated it before, I don’t think I’ve ever realized what that appreciation brings me.

I planned the upcoming November cruise out of a strong desire to get out of SF. I am still looking forward to it but I no longer feel like I have to get away. I like the comforts of home and am realizing I have a lot of what I need in my life right here. If I’m being honest, with the Pup moving up soon, I’m beginning to feel truly blessed. Not in the religious sense but more just very grateful for the wonderful things I have. It hit me recently that I have almost all of the things I’ve ever wanted in my life. And while my life is far from perfect, it is truly a remarkable feeling to realize what I have. It’s funny, I spent so much of my life lamenting for better days, realizing they are here seems almost anti-climatic. Part of me likes to think I deserve it and it’s my time after a life-time of a lot of heartache and struggle. Part of me is on the other side and doesn’t think that universe deals in rewards for good behavior and I’m just lucky. lol Maybe it is a little bit of both.

In the end, I keep thinking about balance. I want to believe that my life is balancing out the bad with the good. Yes, I recognize much of my fortunes now come from more than a decade of personal growth. I could not have had the relationship I have now 10 years ago. I simply was not capable of it. I have worked very hard to be the type of man I can be proud of. And while I recognize there are no guaranteesin life, I can still appreciate reaping some reward for my hard work. I can appreciate, regardless of the reasons, how good I truly have it. I sincerely hope everyone can experience it, at least once in their own life.

Impact

I’m always flattered when someone references my blog. Apparently, my blog has become more popular on a local level.1  You’d think after 9 years it wouldn’t phase me but it still does. I still get very flattered anytime anyone mentions it. I value what I say and share but hearing others refer back to it is very rewarding. October will be the 9 year marker btw.

After my last ‘Role’ rant, I got a lot of kickback about me downplaying the effect of my blog. It was never my intent to belittle my own blog or its impact. I only meant to clarify a point. So my apologies if I trivialized it to anyone. I’ve always shared my madness because of the possibility others could learn from my mistakes, so yes I do think my writing is impactful2 at times.

I’ve had so many folks reach out to me over the years to thank me for sharing so much of myself with the world. I’ve mentioned in various times/places I had an instance where a young gay mean reached out to me after reading my own brush with suicide to tell me reading my blog changed his mind about ending it all. That memory will be with me forever. And it is one of several stories from people who’ve stated my blog has helped them. I’m incredibly humbled and honored by such revelations.

And luckily I’m still at it. Every time I think I’ve reached the end of the ‘need’ for my blog, something or someone comes along to teach me otherwise. And I have come close a few times to ending it. For whatever reason I just can’t seem to walk away.

Anyway, apologies again. As I said, it wasn’t my intent to downplay the blog’s affect. And always, I’m incredibly flattered and grateful so many of you continue to read.




  1. I guess Facebook does have some use after all []
  2. my made up word for the day []

Role

I think I’ve commented on the confidence I’ve found in myself in recent years. I bring it up now in a different but related perspective. I’ve had more than one rant about the lack of role-models in our culture/community. The last being one about my disillusion with a role model I’d found here in SF. I’ve also mentioned in various posts about my frustration with being able to find guys that have reached a level of personal growth that I feel I need to have a functional and successful relationship. All of these things tie into a rather recent epiphany I’ve had.

I’ve realized that I can be a role model to others. And that is not from the perspective of me trying to elevate myself above others, but one of me sharing what I’ve learned and hopefully influencing other gay men into getting onto their own path of growth and contentment. Looking back over my life, I have survived a shit-storm of drama and managed to find the person I want to be within myself. It was no easy task and I can understand why so many fail at it. And lord knows, I am not thinking I am perfect or above reproach. None of that applies to being a role model IMO. Humans are imperfect and flawed. To be a role model doesn’t require perfection.

My new pup (the two legged one) along with a couple of other guys I’ve interacted with lately has taught me that I can be a role model and I can share a wealth of knowledge and wisdom. To see someone embrace an ideal or philosophy and literally blossom under it is something I never expected to witness, especially one of my own doing. And having seen something like that has really made me see that I have gone from being that lost wayward gay boy who needed a mentor or role-model to being one. And maybe mentor is a better term. Role-model seems a bit confining and limiting so maybe I’m becoming a mentor to others.

Sitting in a friends car having a heart-felt conversation about his struggles and absolute eagerness for direction was very touching. To see said person start tearing up when offering him that mentorship almost broke my heart. I’ve become so wrapped up in my own growth over the years, I’ve completely missed the idea of being able to help others grow and evolve. It was like an electric shock to my brain to realize I’ve been inadvertently denying that to others thru my own selfish focus. And I don’t mean selfish as mean but simply being self-focused.

The confidence I’ve found as man is truthfully something I thought I’d never have. If you’d ask me 10 years ago I would have laughed at you. Not because of the intent but because I was so crippled emotionally back then it was a completely foreign idea. And that is not to say I no longer have insecurities. Of course I still have them. But they drive me less and less and that is the key. And the confidence I thought I’d never find has found me. And just as I am drawn to it in others, I think others are drawn to it in me. Honestly, I think this is where a lot of my new found attention comes from. Oh, yeah the new muscles help but they aren’t that big of a draw. lol

My last post with the pic was significant as it lead me to this post. The physical changes you see in the pic are the tiniest fraction of the changes I’ve undergone since then. I’m a completely different man now. Actually, what used to be a lost boy has turned into a found man. I’ve let go of this idea that I have to act in any way to be accepted. I am just me and most importantly, I accept myself. This was the key to my confidence I believe. It jump started the whole process by simply learning to love myself.

It brought me no small amount of joy to realize I am in a position to offer others what I so desperately needed as a young man. There was no one for me to turn at the time so I can’t be too angry. But I am present and accounted for. And it is time that I start helping out. And it can be argued I’ve been doing it a lot thru my blog and it’s probably true to a degree. But the in-person interaction and mentorship cannot be replaced by print. Be it as a sir, a daddy, a big bro, or just a friend, it is time for me to teach while I continue my own path of learning. I don’t have any preset rules. I just plan to share what I’ve learned and how it has helped me.

Wish me luck.

Model

I’m realizing that I put too much emphasis on the integrity of others while devaluing my own. It became abundantly clear to me recently after being incredibly disappointed by someone I looked up to. It had nothing to do with me and the person could probably care less about my aspirations. He didn’t ask to be my role model so shame on me for putting too much emphasis on it. To be clear, by role model I’m referring to an every day person, not some celebrity or personality.

I grew up with no role models and while I’ve always found people to admire, I’ve never really found anyone I’d considering modeling my behavior after. I guess after finding someone I would model my life after and subsequently being disappointed by said person’s personal agenda, it was a huge let down. Now I think I might understand how a kid might feel when his hero turns out to be a fraud. And maybe on some level I still see it that way. I never had heroes growing up so I’m just now getting a taste of that disappointment. On the surface that must sound profoundly sad. Maybe it’s why I was so upset over it.

Anyway, I digress. Afterwards, I realized I don’t value my own system of morals enough. I think partly because not catering to the whole puritanical restrictions on sex and oh yeah, being gay too. lol Seriously though, I grew up feeling like my brand of integrity and morals weren’t good enough for others because they deviated from the norms. They worked for me, didn’t hurt others and gave me goals to strive for. For a long time that was enough for me. But not anymore.

I’ve struggled most of my adult life to be a better man. And depending on who you ask, I’ve done a pretty good job of getting there. Or at least I think so. And I need to aspire less to be like others and more like the man I am. I am not perfect by no means. And lawd knows I’m an incredibly flawed human being. But I try and that is the point. I’m guilty of having selfish wants/desires. I’m guilty of indulgences on said desires/wants. But I’m also able to distinguish between what is my own agenda/desires and what is right. I admit to myself when something I’m doing is not necessarily in line with my goals. I accept it and work to over come it. Frankly, that objectivity has been a defining feature in my blog for the last 9 or so years. It took me awhile to see it. Having it pointed out to me repeatedly by others over the years has certainly helped me see it more clearly.

As I move beyond my disappointment, I find I no longer have a desire to find new role models. Besides being 42 years old and well into adulthood, I am content with my brand of integrity and morals. And as I move forward, I will aspire to be more the man I want to be and live by example. I no longer need a role model. I am the model and that is just fine with me.