I booked a call with a successful creator, Mark E Miller, because I wanted advice about YouTube growth, storytelling, and whether or not I was wasting my time trying to build something online. But somewhere between talking about Shorts, queer dating, Idaho, and life transitions, the conversation became about something much bigger: becoming the person you needed when you were younger. I left the session realizing that maybe success isn’t about going viral overnight — maybe it’s about continuing to show up, tell your story, and trust that you’re still becoming.

I started the Game Changers Series while I was celibate—which, honestly, feels like the most unhinged way to read some of the hottest gay romance out there. But somewhere between the chaos of Heated Rivalry and the tenderness of Role Model, I realized this series wasn’t just about sex or hockey. It was about hope—the kind that makes you believe love is still possible, even when you’re not fully healed.

I didn’t leave Easton Mountain with everything figured out—but I did leave more myself than when I arrived. What I found there wasn’t just a retreat, but a reminder that healing, connection, and queer joy can exist all at once.

Dating in my 30s isn’t about rushing anymore—it’s about choosing, daily, what kind of love I deserve. I’m no longer searching for someone to complete me, but someone to meet me where I already stand. Love’s worth waiting for… just let it stew a little longer. And maybe, just maybe, it finds you when you least expect it.

I grew my Instagram to 7,000 followers—and it had nothing to do with going viral. In this post, I’m sharing what actually worked, from posting into the void to building a real community as a food creator.

A raw diary-style blog about investing in yourself, sobriety, spirituality, and personal growth—even on a limited income.

When I was growing up, one day I went snorkeling in the shallows of my childhood beach, when suddenly heart racing I was face-to-face with one Moray eel—running, I went ran back to shore like one looney toon. This is where flavor and chaos live together, where every bite, every wave, every salty breeze broke da mouth. Pull up a plate, pour yourself a little sparkle, and let these poems feed your hunger for home, mischief, and magic.

The humidity hit me the second I stepped out of the airport in Santiago. It clung to my skin like a reminder that I was far from home, and yet, something about it felt familiar. The airport itself, buzzing with people offering rides to resorts, pulled memories from my childhood—Puerto Rico, my homeland, and even Nicaragua, where airports hum with that same particular chaos of arrivals and departures.

This was the beginning of my 11-day journey through Constanza and Sosúa with Global Glimpse—a program designed to cultivate leadership, cultural immersion, and community among students. What I didn’t realize at the time was how much the trip would leave its mark on me, not just in memories but in the way I carry myself as a leader.

Tucked deep along the banks of the Chagres River, I found myself bruised from a bumpy canoe ride and barefoot in the jungle—yet entirely at peace. The Emberá village wasn’t just a destination, it was an invitation into a world where music heals, food connects, and every step is in rhythm with the earth. I watched strangers become friends through dance, children light up with donated soccer balls, and felt the quiet strength of a community rooted in gratitude and simplicity. This journey wasn’t about checking a box—it was about unlearning, listening, and remembering how much power there is in living close to the land, and even closer to each other.