Ten years ago, at the age of 42, I was a drunk, morbidly obese, checked-out husband and father of five. My career was hanging by a thread. Then, I experienced a wake-up call. My kids were going to watch me die and I was going to leave behind a sad disgraceful legacy. I crawled into an alcohol recovery meeting, grabbed a man I trusted and admired, and asked for help. I didn’t know what to do, but I became willing to follow advice and do whatever was necessary. Over the next several years I learned to live sober, prioritized my health, and lost 140 pounds.
My personal life and career improved dramatically. Yet, my relationship with my wife of over 20 years did not follow suit. She enjoyed the life I provided, but she actively avoided me. I was caught in a cycle of habitual chasing, appeasement, and begging. I grappled with anxiety, frustration, and anger. Occasionally, this would build to a climax, and I would explode on her. I would quickly feel ashamed, apologize repeatedly, and renew my efforts to please her. This continued for several years.
In late 2021, my wife began working at a gym. Her personal life began to revolve around her co-workers. She spent evenings away from home. I often found her engaged in personal texts with male co-workers. Similar behavior had occurred early on in our marriage that had resulted in an emotional and physical affair. When I brought up my concerns, she would quickly deflect, get angry, and bring up the hell I had put her through. I would quickly apologize and retreat.
I sought personal therapy. After a year of this my relationship still hadn’t improved. I asked my wife to attend marriage counseling. She agreed to go, but she used our sessions to vent resentments and blame.
Nothing I said or did improved our marriage. Then in the summer of 2023, I discovered "The Dead Bedroom Fix." I read it twice. I discovered that I had made several positive improvements, but there was one glaring area where I continued to mess up. My continual subordinating behavior towards my wife was not helping me or our marriage. My wife had zero respect for me, and she despised me. I had zero respect for myself, and I was miserable.
I began coaching with Jason. It became apparent that many of my wife’s behaviors were unacceptable in a healthy relationship. I needed to establish personal and relationship boundaries and enforce consequences if these boundaries were crossed. This was very uncomfortable. I did not feel justified. I felt like a controlling asshole. She exacerbated these fears with her emotional reactions and words: “How dare you?” “Who do you think you are?” “A good husband doesn’t behave this way.“
Despite her reactions, after a few months I was feeling better about myself. I was regaining some self-respect. My frustration, anger, and shame were disappearing. My view of a healthy relationship, built upon mutual respect, was solidifying. On the other hand, my wife’s attitude towards me was becoming downright hostile. Something had to change.
During a coaching session with Jason, it became clear that it was time for “The Talk”. Although the timeframe was accelerated, my relationship was at the breaking point, and I had already put in years of work towards myself and my relationship. My wife either needed to demonstrate sincere and consistent effort, or I was going to end our marriage. I gave her the ultimatum. It didn’t take her long. She told me she was done.
Her response was a gut punch. I was losing everything I valued and had built over a 30-year marriage. Yet, I knew she was voicing what she had been demonstrating for years. I accepted her response. I had already prepared a worse-case action plan, and I executed it rapidly. Using mediation I pushed through the divorce within one month. I moved out of our home within another month.
That 1st Christmas Eve, I sat alone in an empty townhouse without my family. I felt lonely, terrified, and broken. It was very similar to those early days of sobriety nearly a decade before. Only worse. Never underestimate the power of pain. In that silence and loneliness, a fire began to burn in me. It grew and strengthened my resolve. I would prove to myself and to my kids that a man can lose everything he cherishes and come back stronger.
Coaching sessions were a lifeline. During one, Jason walked me around his house. “Make your place into anything you want. Who gives a fuck what other people think.” Hell yeah. I went to work. Within a few months, that townhouse was my own fucked up fortress and sanctuary. People walked into my place and told me they loved my “style.” I didn’t know that I had a style.
On my own, I wasn’t sure what to do with my kids. Jason helped me work a parenting plan. I made schedules, joined school apps, and created meal and grocery plans. I put adventures on the calendar. Within a few months, I had the kid-thing nailed.
My financial situation was desperate. From the divorce, I owed tens-of-thousands in debt and to the IRS. Half my take-home pay was going to my ex-wife in alimony and child support. Jason’s motto was “FITFO.” I adopted this motto. When I didn’t have my kids, I worked 14–16-hour days. To avoid a long commute, I couch surfed, slept on a cot at work, or in my car. I meal prepped to minimize my grocery budget. Within 6 months, I paid off my credit card and IRS debt and built up my emergency savings.
After several months on my own, I was no longer just surviving. I was thriving. I traveled extensively across the US, Europe, and South Korea. I joined a Jiu Jitsu gym. I took my kids skiing, camping, and hiking. I went to live music concerts and comedy shows. I ran my first half marathon with my adult daughter. I was in the best physical shape of my life. I was living the life I always wanted.
As I approach the one-year anniversary of my divorce, my life isn’t perfect. Many challenges remain. My future is still uncertain. Yet, I don’t wish for the secure miserable life I had before. In a short span, I’ve walked through hell, and I’ve had some great adventures. I’ve developed abilities to adapt and a tremendous capacity to handle the shit that life throws at me. There are moments when I get discouraged, but I dig deep, replan, and move forward. I am extremely grateful and wouldn’t trade these experiences for the world. The HFM Brotherhood, coaching, and my personal experiences have taken me places I couldn’t have imagined a year ago. At age 50, I feel like I’m finally becoming the man I am meant to be.
