Confessions of a Reluctant Success Story

How Writing Saved Me from ‘Having It All’

I have 1.1K followers.

That number makes me feel like a goddamn celebrity, so thank you — because I am not worthy. I am a small-town kid; I aspired to be a high school English teacher, four people reading one article would have sufficed my ego for a lifetime.

I sometimes read old articles and am horrified.

Horrified by my grammatical errors and complete lack of regard for final edits before hitting publish. But I’m also horrified at my… honesty.

I’ve really wanted to delete some of this stuff, but I haven’t.

I’m not saying I won’t in the future — I owe no one anything — but damn, I have let it all hang out quite radically in some of my writing.

I write because I care.

I write because I know many compassionate and courageous people who’ve gotten lost in this chasm of chaos we call society, completely isolated from any real sense of identity.

I was like that for two decades.

I sought direction and approval from metrics and mantras outside myself.

I focused on family values and social definitions of success.

I achieved it all, and it fucking blew goats.