Intimate.

Do you believe in deeply satisfying, long-lasting mutual intimacy?

Yeah?

I also believe in fairy tales and unicorns and other such things.

Intimacy? Man, that's a loaded word.

If you're looking for expertise you sure as heck have come to the wrong place.

But if you want to hear from someone who's done it all wrong,  f*cked it up in the worst ways, spent years living in wounds and projection, thousands of dollars at crappy therapists and years on the brink of divorce with one ear pressed to a locked door and a divorce lawyer with 15 minutes of free advice droning in the other ear...

Welcome.

I'm not here to welcome you to my audience.

I'm not here for you to welcome me to some platform in your mind.

I'm here to welcome you to my diary.

Some smudgy, tear-stained pages of my diary.

Here's day one.

I know I'm a religious trauma coach. And this isn't really "religious trauma". Or maybe it is.

Sometimes I feel like the real trauma may have been less about anything that happened, anything that got said...

And even more about what didn't happen. What didn't get said.

I never knew how to be real. How to be raw. How to be honest when it hurt like hell.

...how to be intimate.

The thing I longed for more than life itself, I didn't have the foggiest clue how to create. And most days, if I'm honest, I still don't know.

But I've been on a journey to find out.

You coming?