We all have things that scare the shit out of us.
Some are silly. Others are deep-seated, soul-clutching, existential-dread-level fears.
Hell, I once knew someone terrified of broccoli. Yeah—that broccoli. The tiny green tree full of vitamins. Go figure.
Me?
One of my biggest, most paralyzing fears is this:
That I’ll leave this life without ever doing something that mattered.
Let that one sink in.
We all want to leave our mark—create something real, something that outlasts us. But the brutal truth? A lot of us won’t… especially if we let someone else’s bullshit standards be the measuring stick.
I’m 43. I’m physically disabled, neurodivergent, and queer. I’ve never fit into anyone’s neat little boxes. Hell, I sat on top of the boxes and lit them on fire.
And you know what? I wasn’t made to fit in. I was meant to stand the fuck out.
Two years ago, I came out as gay. At 41.
Second marriage. Three kids. And then I met someone who upended everything I thought I knew—about myself, about love, about what the hell I even wanted from life. And it was the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.
Some days I still feel like I’ve done nothing meaningful. But the truth? I’ve lived by example. I’ve shown people it’s okay to change. To choose authenticity. To stop hiding and be real. That’s not nothing. That’s fucking powerful.
When I had to stop working, it damn near broke me. For a while, it did.
But now? I’m building again. From the rubble. With my own hands.
I started writing again. Picked up a short story I published in 2013—one that was meant to be part of something bigger. It got buried under the trauma of a shady-as-hell vanity press and a crushed spirit.
But last week, I opened that file. Just to “clean it up.” And the fire? Lit itself.
That 22-page short became a 70-page novella. The old title didn’t fit anymore—it had evolved. So, I rebranded it, re-titled it, and launched it. I didn’t even have to wait for Kindle Select to expire because it’s not the same book anymore.
At the same time, I released a book of personal essays about coming out late in life. About how it changed everything—not just for me, but for my family, my worldview, and my story.
I’ve published six new books in 3 weeks: 4 short stories, 1 essay collection, 1 novella reborn from ashes.”
I launched a website for both my and my wife’s work—writing, handmade art, everything. And I’ve been ridiculously neurodivergent about it (in the best way). Hyperfocused. And it’s working: over 500 legit page views in just 4 days.
I even ran Facebook ads—me! With a micro-budget! I spent under $3 and gained 10+ followers and boosted visibility like crazy. And now I’m doing the same for my wife, because she works full time, and I don’t.
So this? This is my job now.
Turns out, leaving your mark isn’t about fitting someone else’s definition of ‘meaningful.’ It’s about showing up as yourself, on fire, ready to build something real.