His depression, coupled with my codependency, broke us apart, again.
For good, if my heart is speaking truth.
So, for the last eighteen days, I’ve been coming back to terms with where I stand.
I’m a middle-aged gay man with a home all of his own, with room for guests and passers-by. I have my old jeep. I have my new life as a personal trainer and coach.
I have my therapist, self-help books, and candles.
I have a bathroom all to myself, seat can be left up.
Dad’s going to be okay.
The truth is, I’ve needed this break. I’ve needed the time to stop pouring my heart into other people, other things, other places, and simply just be for me, for a while. The therapy I mentioned is all about that. The work I’m doing now, for myself, is the work I should have been doing all along, if I had been smarter/wiser and willing to stop and figure out my shit.
Dad won’t get into the details here. That’s between myself and my therapist (and my Twitter following, apparently), but suffice to say, there’s a ton of generational healing happening so that, going forward, the pain that was a part of my family ends with me.
I took myself for my first hike of 2024, and thought of the Boy. We had our shit, but our common love for being outside was a bond between us. I shared this with a friend, and he told me that, perhaps, next time, I leave my phone, don’t share where I’m going, or any of that, and just be in the woods for myself. It stung, a bit, to hear this from him, as though I wasn’t grieving the right way, or not processing this shift in my life the right way, but he clarified, and made it clear he just wants me to be contented and happy for the sake of my own happiness, and not for any other person or purpose.
I will get there.
I will, because I have to, one way or another.
I have many more years to find more happiness, for myself, and share with others as I see fit.
If I take stock of my life, there are a few amazing things that immediately come to mind.
I’m a wholly new person from where I was a year ago. New career, new approach to life, the whole deal.
I have an amazing connection with a beautiful man, my Boy, who understands my worries and fears, but also my moments of joy, sexual proclivities, and all the rest.
He takes my breath away so damn often.
I have hundreds of people who remind me, nearly daily, that I’m sexually attractive, that I have a body worth knowing and exploring, and that, in short, I deserve the kind of fire that the Boy and I share.
But then, like today, I step on the scale, and take stock of what’s happened over the last six-plus months, in terms of my weight, strength, and all of those usual physical characteristics that we are all so deeply aware of about ourselves, and I just don’t see it.
I start to doubt, not only every bit of praise and thirst-comment I get from people online and off, but also the foundations of my relationship with David, the promise of my new career, and all the rest of these massively good changes I’ve been experiencing in my life.
I start to think I’ve built it all on quicksand.
Gym Selfies always capture a version of me I struggle to see outside of the gym
I’ve had this struggle all of my life. I have handed over so much power and influence to the numbers on the scale, the visual metrics I judge myself against at every single waking moment. What’s even more insane is, now that I’m a coach and trainer, I am fully equipped with the knowledge and tools to transform my body in health, sustainable ways, to literally shape-shift, if I so choose.
In fact, over the last week, I’ve managed to rediscover the structures I once had in place that were leading me to the kinds of changes I want to see in myself. For five days straight, I ate the way I should, and moved my body in ways it’s been craving for a while. It feels good to be back on track, back into my groove.
But then the scale, this morning, tore that all down in one swift, bleary-eyed moment.
I hate that when that happens
June 2023
You probably can’t really spot the differences in my body over the last six-plus months, but I can, and it’s that disconnect, that hyper-vigilance I have over the curves and shape of my body, that I need to really dig into.
I’m a personal trainer, and now a regular poster over on OnlyFans. I am using my body to earn an income, even though my body isn’t “commercially viable” through the eyes of so, so many. My body is part of my job, my existence, and my livelihood, and maybe that’s why I’m hyper-aware of the ways I think I should change and reshape myself.
I do know I need to be very careful this time around, if I’m going to undertake another metamorphosis and get to a next-level with how I appear, how much strength I have, and how I show the world who I am through what I look like. I know this is a personal minefield of mine, and one that I’m desperate to finally leave in my past.
Every single sign in my life is telling me that I am sexy, that I am worthy, and that I am a desirable human being.
It’s wild to also feel like I’m lying to myself when I put those words down on this page.
I ended my job at the transit company six months ago today.
End of the Line
In the past six months, my entire life has been in a state of beautiful tumult as I’ve been finding my feet again. So much so, that doing a single, simple blog post about it all seems like not enough.
I have pages and pages and PAGES of journaling that happened between then and now. I have watched as my body and mind have come to terms with the lack of structure in my days, both being “free” and “bound” at the same time. I have so much to reflect on, really, but there are a few key highlights that keep bubbling up to the surface on this weird little milestone day.
Firstly, I don’t miss that job.
Not one iota.
It was the last straw in terms of my own physical health, and the chaos and trauma that being a worker with the General Public caused me is still being tabulated in my mind and body. I have been spending a LOT of time just unpacking the anxiety around managing the behaviors of so many people in so many disparate places in their lives, and what it meant to have that kind of melting pot occurring on my 200’ long train.
I should have filed for disability. I should have made a Worker’s Compensation claim for what I endured.
I should have quit long ago.
Second, I have learned that, if you want to escape from the workday grind, as it were, there is very little on the outside of that framework that’ll support you. It is, simply put, living by the skin of your teeth. I learned, the hard way, that the bills keep coming, even if the paychecks don’t.
I’ve spent a lot of time, laying in bed, realizing that my life, and all of its simple trappings (gas in the Jeep, a roof over my head, money for laundry and the light bill, let alone food in the fridge) is all down to me, my choices, and the ways I connect to others. I’m relying on my own sense of worth, and finding myself leaning deep into the kindness of others more than I feel totally comfortable with. The act of leaving the “nest” of a steady paycheck situation means you’re going to fall, sometimes without grace, and you will go through a purification of a sort.
Things that once had major precedence in my life have fallen to the wayside.
I have learned a fundamental lesson about what qualifies as food and comfort and love.
I have learned to find joy in very dark places, simply to give myself the impetus to keep trying.
I have learned that I have a better inner strength than I first thought.
I have learned to trust my guts more, and to put my faith in the Universe a lot more, especially when things feel heavier than ever.
Through all of this is David, and my relationship to him. After my divorce, and recognizing that the way I love had to change, he returned, and in the time we’ve been here, on our own, we’ve both lowered our guards and walls even more around each other. The intimacy continues to grow, and we are less and less apt to cordon ourselves off from each other.
I know when his mental health is shaky, and how to both support him and keep my own balance, knowing full well I cannot fix this for him. I’ve learned to share when I’m feeling the slightest bit anxious about something, in terms that are pure and simple, so as to avoid them boiling over in any sort of way that causes a rupture or distance between us. I own my mistakes more fully.
I also trust him unlike I’ve trusted anyone before. With everything. I can come to him with the stupidest quirk or tweak in my mind, and he keeps me on my path, gently reassuring me that my mind is still healing and recovering from years of destructive and damaging thoughts and trauma. I know that I can just be me – and that being me is enough for him.
The moments when he reaches over to rub my fur while we share an evening playing video games quietly in the same room are some of the best moments of intimacy I’ve ever experienced.
Today, for the first time, I feel like I’m going to be okay.
I feel like I’ve got enough time and revenue streams coming into my life to support us in a way that’s not unfeasible. David has had to take a break from employment to manage his own health, but we collaborate to make money online, and he’s been good about not asking for more than I can provide (and I’ve been good about keeping myself honest about the promises I make – and not going beyond my means).
I have a cadre of utterly amazing clients both online and at the health club who I enjoy working with and who connect with me in lovely ways.
The rent will get paid.
The bills will get paid.
There will be food every day for David and I to enjoy.
Coaching is growing and forming a shape and rhythm of it’s own. I’m tentatively still at the health club, but honestly, I’m considering leaving there and focusing full-time on my online coaching. the $400/mo that I’m getting from my time down there is still keeping us fed a bit, though, so it’s a bit premature to give up on that. Plus, the New Year approaches, and it will certainly be an experience to have that energy while at a gym, if only to see how it all feels. I just don’t know what to expect.
I have learned, though, in these past six months, that I cannot rely on anyone else but myself for stability and comfort. I have had to cut ties with my former coach and mentor because our trajectories just stopped aligning.
Full story: he didn’t like that I’m also running my own OnlyFans page, and making income with my body and the love that I share with David.
It still stings, a bit, if I’m honest, but I know it will pass.
Dad’s gonna do his thing over here, and that’s that.
And if that means giving you all more of the Dad you’ve come to know and love, then so be it. I feel more alive than ever, and while I still have so much work to do on myself, I feel like I’ve been growing in exponential ways that would have been unheard of even a few short months ago.
I mean, maybe, in some regards, I have been. I was the oldest of two boys, and the band-aid and bridge between two parents who let a relationship linger far, far too long. Still, I’m not a parent. Care-giver, people pleaser, put-them-first kind of guy, yes. That’s me. I still have no actual children of my own.
But I do have David.
He’s sixteen years younger than I am, and in many ways, is in my heart the way most people who are important to me are. I put him first sometimes, I do what I can to make his life better, giving what I can whenever I can if it benefits him or lifts him up in any way.
Still, this relationship is unlike my others in my past. There’s a certain level of boundary line between him and I that keeps things vibrant, balanced, and moving in a healthy direction. I have learned to reserve more of me, more of my energy and time, and simply let David figure shit out on his own, or come to me on his own accord when things are fuzzy or he needs to get something off his chest.
I don’t find myself jumping through hoops to please him. I don’t put all of my self aside the moment he walks in the door from his day at work. In fact, when I do start doing that, I can feel my whole personhood changing in a way that is now uncomfortable and antithetical to how I live my life these days. I know what resentment feels like. I know what being taken advantage of feels like. I know how to stop those feelings dead in their tracks, pivot, and let go, more than I ever have.
For the first time in my adult life, I don’t feel like I need love like this in my life to validate who I am and how I exist.
David, every day, gets to make a choice to be with me, or not. Every single day, he’s given latitude, without pressure from me or my life, to live his life as he sees fits. By giving him this space to breathe, to be his own person, and to make and enact changes for himself that work for him, he is able to grow and change on his own accord. This, as it turns out, is a really new way for me to show how I love someone.
I’ve learned this the hard way. I’ve spent many, many years trying to contort myself into the lives of the men I’ve fallen in love with so that I could become irreplaceable to them. This is how, for me, I earned their love and devotion. The more I was needed, the more I was loved. If I ever felt a guy slipping away from me, it was my fault for failing to see or change enough to meet their needs. It was always my fault, and I would spend so much time and energy (and deep-dive into alcohol in the process) beating myself up over my “failures.”
I can’t say that it’s always easy to remember these lines and spaces between us. Usually, though, if I take a solid deep breath and notice the familiar feelings of “being taken advantage of” or “being taken for granted” – hallmarks of the start of resentment, that moment I decide to change for someone else – I can, and do, catch myself. The more I practice pausing and reflecting in the moment, the easier it becomes.
Boundaries are healthy. Knowing the limits of your personhood and setting lines that cannot be crossed is important. Defining yourself for your SELF, and not through the views and refraction of others and their perceptions of you, is one of the most life-affirming actions you can take.
Take it from this Dad. Your Sons will appreciate it when you give them space to grow on their own.
I turn 46 in a few days. It’s not a milestone birthday, but it is something, I suppose.
I’m under a lot of pressure to keep after my business, and keep growing it as much as possible, and the daily work is starting to really pick up in speed. If you’d asked me last year at this time, I’d have told you I was VERY unsure about the success of my coaching, and would be under so much stress and pressure from my public transit gig that I’d probably have just slugged some coffee, shot you a dirty look, and headed out the door.
This year, in this pre-birthday space in time, I’m a much different person. I have a beautiful Boy in my bed. I have a burbling and flowing business that, while it’s a bit of a hustle, brings me utter joy the more I engage with it. I have my dog, faithful and steadfast. I have simplified my life by simply saying No and meaning it when I had to.
Things are better.
Things are vastly different from where I thought I’d be
Warm Beef Stew? Yes, please.
When I started this site, I was attempting to play to my darker side. The sexy, slutty, experiment-in-body-positivity side that I had never nurtured before. I’d never felt so strong, so confident in my personhood. Today, that feeling has simmered into a fine, rich stew of life lessons and emotions. Having the support of the Boy, who sees me as a magical creature, beautiful in nearly every way, and who constantly has me on my heels, questioning every bit of self-doubt that still lingers in my body, has been transformative.
I have learned that I am not meant to manage everything, and that it’s okay to be humble and ask for help and forgiveness at times. I have an inner strength that has been so dormant and yet so persistent my whole life, and through my connection to him, and to the world around me, I’m able to foster more growth and compassion than ever before. When I stop putting in so much frustrated effort towards things that aren’t in my control or purview, I’m able to fully breathe and be myself, for the first time in my whole-ass life.
I turn 46, which is too damn close to 50 for my liking, but it also represents a beautiful moment to stop, take in the view, and spot the peaks and valleys I’ve already traversed.
I really am happy with the view from this vantage point.
This entire summer has been a journey through territory I’ve never traversed before. Quitting my steady, stable, union job back on June 1 was the first step into a whole new world for me. Suddenly, I found myself facing down the world and future without a guaranteed income, or plan for what to do after six months was up.
I also found myself at a massive crossroad with my relationships to others, especially with my former husband. I knew change needed to happen, and that I needed to face down something that had been nagging at me for a long time.
In the act of clearing the decks, in taking stock and making fundamental changes to my life in order to be a healthier, happier me, I stumbled, kind of haphazardly, into a deeper relationship. David, who returned to the house, and my life, all around the time that I was quitting my job and my marriage, has been by my side through this summer of realization and recovery, and continues to be an element of my life that I can’t quite put my finger on. Something there, here, between us, feels authentic in a way I haven’t fully realized or wrapped my arms around. I’m getting there.
On top of all of this, there’s my coaching. I’ve had a summer of taking on a few clients at a health club I started working at back at the end of May. It’s been some time getting my feet under me there, figuring out how to best find my place in the community there, and what skills and abilities to bring to the table while I’ve got my uniform on and I’m working with clients. It’s still all a little wobbly, but with each passing week, I’m meeting new and renewing clients there, and feeling much more confident in what I’m doing. I will be teaching a class there, later this fall, which will be for people who are nervous about weight lifting, and how to lift safely and with confidence.
Today, I’m coming up with a new pitch to gain clients on one of the coaching platforms I’m part of. I’m retooling my own approach (digitally) to ensure that the kinds of clients I’m getting are the kinds of clients I want – ready and willing to make changes, trust in the process, and let me hold them accountable. I’m also coming to terms with the fact that the money I had set aside to ride on while I got my wind in my sails is just about gone.
Soon, in the next thirty days or so, I’m going to be at another crossroads.
Will I be able to afford to continue on as a coach, full time, doing the thing that has brought me utter joy and a feeling of purpose unlike any other profession I’ve been a part of? Or will I need to sure myself up with a regular (albeit part time) job where I’m on someone else’s calendar and clock?
The fact is, I don’t know.
I don’t know if I’ll make it, but I do know that I’m trying.
I *do* know that I’m just going to have to give up and let the Universe guide me forward. Already, just this week, I’ve identified some of the barriers that stand between me and doing this sustainably and for the rest of my days, and it’s my own self-confidence in what and who I am.
The rest of Summer, and on into early Fall, and right up to my Birthday, this is my focus. Finding my self-confidence again, and getting myself to a place where I don’t need to rely on David, or anyone, to keep my head afloat and in the groove I’m in.
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