I turned 50 this year. And… 50. Holy shit.
It’s… it’s more than halfway over, right?
And I’m sitting here trying to figure out what the hell happened.
For a good majority of it — hell, probably close to 30 years — I struggled. I mean really struggled. Not that I don’t still struggle now; life’s hard. Some days are easier, some days are brutal, but you go with it. Still, a big chunk of my life was spent in deep struggle — addiction, mental health, depression, anxiety… just a roller coaster.
And that roller coaster? Let me just say this: I’m a mental health advocate, first and foremost. And what that means — at least to me — is being willing to share. To talk about the hard shit.
Addiction? That was there. But in my eyes, most addiction is just someone trying to mask mental health pain. And most mental health issues? They go way back. Trauma.
But I digress.
The point is — I always shared. I still do.
Because sharing lets me be that guy that other people can talk to when they’re going through it too. And over the years, people have — people I never would’ve guessed were struggling have reached out. That’s the gift in it. Being real, being open… it connects us. And truth be told, it helps me too. Because when I talk to them, I’m listening too.
But sharing like that — being that open — it means my struggles have been very public. And not just the bad stuff. The good times too.
I was a bartender for, I don’t know, maybe 15 years or so. When you’re slinging drinks in a small town like the one I live in — a tourist spot in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan — your life’s kind of an open book. Not because you’re famous. Just because… people know. People see.
What I’m getting at is this: when your life’s been that visible — especially in a town this size — your screw-ups are hard to outrun. And now, starting this new business — consiAIrge SMB — where I have to reach out, talk to people, build trust…
Man, it’s tough.
I said something to my mom the other night that really stuck with me. I looked at her and said:
“I’m going to have one fuck of a time making this business happen in this town because of my past.”
And it’s true.
I’ve already started reaching out. I messaged five people I’ve known forever — only one even responded. Maybe they’re busy. Maybe something’s going on. Or maybe… maybe it’s just judgment.
Because let’s face it — I’ve messed up a lot.
Made a lot of mistakes.
But damn it, I’ve worked hard to get here. On myself. On this business. On my mindset.
I’ve learned a lot. This thing I’ve built — it’s good. It’s solid. If I could just get someone to give me a fucking chance.
And I’m not saying that to throw a pity party. Not at all. In fact, I get it. I honestly get it. If I was them… would I trust me?
I don’t know.
But here’s the thing — part of the reason I’m building this business is so I can give other people a second chance.
People like me.
People with a past.
People who just need someone to believe in them long enough to see what they’re capable of.
So if I’m willing to do that for others… why the hell can’t someone do that for me?
That’s where I’m at right now. I’ve put in the work. I’ve created something real. Sure, it’s still getting polished. Still growing. But it’s ready.
And now? Now I need to make a sale.
Not just because I need money — although let’s be honest, I’m sick of money going out and nothing coming in. It’d be nice to cover a few subscription costs, maybe have a website that pays for itself.
But more than that, I need someone to say yes. I need someone to believe in me.
Even if it’s just one person.
My mom, and a few friend know. They believe in me. I’m just not always sure I know what I can do.
And maybe that’s because life — and let’s be real, my own choices — knocked me down more than a few times.
I don’t even know what the hell the point of this post is.
Maybe it’s just journaling. Maybe I just needed to get this shit out of my head.
But I guess… if there is a point…
It’s this:
Give people a chance.
Hell, give them a second, third, even hundredth chance.
Because people can change. And the difference you make by giving someone a shot — it could change everything. Maybe it bites you in the ass. Maybe it doesn’t.
But damn… imagine if it doesn’t.
