Hey, I’m George

Little Kid At Heart , Writer By choice

My Story


If life’s a story, then these words are the coffee-stained pages of my journey so far.


And the things I write about…

They’re more than just a glimpse into the soul of yours truly. They’re a sanctuary for anyone who’s ever danced with their own shadows, for those who’ve felt the weight of the world on their shoulders.

One day, I was king of the hill. And the next, I found myself frefalling into an abyss, doing the tango with the Grim Reaper. It was a flirtation with the final curtain, a wake-up call from the edge of oblivion.

As my heart crumbled into a mosaic of pain, I found myself caught in the no-man’s-land between a haunted past and an uncertain future. I watched as life, like a fragile dream, unraveled at the seams.


Made a library of them.


Broke a few, including my own.

These harsh lessons morphed into the stories that demanded to be written, the tales that chose me as their reluctant bard.

Now, I live by a simple creed…Question everything.

The eternal, the ephemeral, the sacred, the profane – it’s all up for grabs, all part of the cosmic game.

Nothing’s permanent, and life’s curveballs are just twisted invitations to shed the old skin, to let go of the tales that bind us.

My words, they bleed onto the page, crafting new narratives, reshaping my worldview one sentence at a time.

The Places I’ve Gone

Like many people, I spent my childhood creating an identity, patching it up with bits and pieces from every which way.

At the tender age of six, I got front-row seats to the grand unraveling of my parents’ marriage, and my dreams got caught in the crossfire. Growing up as the firstborn son in a Greek family, I inherited a relentless work ethic from my old man and a taste for the fiery side of life from my mother.

Abandonment and rejection became my unwanted companions, lurking in the shadows of my childhood. The world had one mantra for me: “Grow up and be a man.” It’s a phrase that packs a punch, one that filled my sails with shame and a burning need to prove my worth at every turn.

I was told to grow up
and be a man by many
lost souls. Protection mechanisms
stamped on their hearts. Never
happy I suppose.

But then, everything shifted after September 11, 2001. That day, I rewrote the script of my life, turning the page to a chapter I never saw coming.

The Warrior Mask

I joined the Marines to prove to everyone
I wasn’t a failure. It wasn’t enough to be
a solider, an airman, or even a sailor. 

My early years as a Marine were like navigating a minefield of personal challenges. The loss of my best friend in the Iraq war sent me spiraling into a shadowy dance with addictive behaviors and depression. It was a battle as fierce as any I fought in the field.

As I scaled the ranks, gathering life lessons like medals, I got to don the cape of America’s superhero.

My journey took me from training with the FBI in Quantico to securing Top Secret clearances.

Combat deployments became my norm, and my passport filled with stamps from over 40 countries. Thats when I started to realize realize – maybe each of us is here for a distinct purpose, a unique chapter in the grand narrative of life.

After a decade serving with honor and conviction, I made the decision to step away. It was time to hang up the uniform, but the journey – my journey – was far from over.



With no clear path and a lot of uncertainty, I wasn’t ready to face the guy in the mirror.

Sitting with discomfort? Not my style.

So, I did what most guys do – I ran with the booze and bad decisions.

I took the path that seemed most logical for an ex-military guy. I dove into MBA programs, started a family, all in the pursuit of… something greater. While moonlighting as a personal trainer, I stumbled upon a passion I didn’t know I had – helping others unlock their potential, and inadvertently, my own.

My life became a montage of endurance races, powerlifting, bodybuilding – you name it, I did it. I treated my body like a well-oiled machine, pushing it to the limits for hours on end.

But this lifestyle was a double-edged sword.

On one side, it gave me a rush, a sense of achievement. On the other, it left me grappling with confidence issues, frequent trips to the ER for a nagging medical condition, and a personal life that was spiraling out of control.

I was like a headless chuman, running around in circles, trying to outrun my own shadow.


Headless Human

To me, life had turned into a never-ending checklist.

Marriage, fatherhood, chasing a big dream – it all seemed like boxes I needed to tick off. Why? I couldn’t tell you. But each day, I found myself sinking further into a dark, suffocating vault of depression.

I felt like I was in a cage, constructed by the outside world and my own expectations. The ghosts of my past haunted me, repeating their torturous patterns, while suicidal thoughts started keeping me company more often than I care to admit.


At the same time, I was wrestling with the rage of a man nursing a broken heart. Guilt became my constant companion, whispering blame for every misstep, every fall. This crushing weight of shame pushed me to the brink, to a point where ending it all seemed like the only way out.


A few months after my world imploded, I made a choice. I got sober, embraced celibacy, and started to spill my experiences onto paper.

I discovered sanctuaries in retreats, the tranquility of yoga, the focus of meditation. Coaches, the art of single parenting, and most importantly, I found myself. It was like assembling a jigsaw puzzle of the soul, piece by piece.

I reconnected with my family, dove into men’s groups, and found a newfound love for the great outdoors. I plunged headfirst into understanding human behavior, enrolling myself in the real-life school of hard knocks and heartaches.

Nowhere To Go


I left the familiar shores of my comfort zone, setting sail for an ocean of uncertainty and stark truths.

I made a decision: no more being a pawn in other people’s narratives, no more shackles of limitations and haunting stories that kept me captive.

Through the crucible of my pain, I forged a new narrative, one that lent me the strength to open my heart and make room for the raw, unfiltered emotions waiting to flow through me.

I turned to writing, knowing it would mirror the deepest, most authentic parts of my heart and soul. My words became more than just letters on a page; they transformed  my wounds into lessons for others who found solace in my shared experiences.

This journey isn’t about crafting a fairy tale.

It’s a relentless pursuit of emotional honesty, a quest to capture the essence of my reality in prose. Because in the end, my words are the eternal custodians of my truth.


Lately, I’ve hit the brakes on life’s fast lane.

Taking stock of where I’ve been and the choices I’ve made has been eye-opening. I’m gradually unraveling the complex tapestry of my patterns, my triggers, and most importantly, who I am at this very moment – not who I was yesterday or who I might be tomorrow.

This is my life, raw and unfiltered.

I lay it bare not with the intention to sway anyone’s path, but rather as a testament to what unfolds when you accept your story rather than try to rip it away. 


This is who I, not who I was
or who he will be. It’s easier
to live when the world is
fast asleep. Darkness
can’t keep up. My
words set me free.

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