Texas, Year 7: Reinvention and cancellation

I’ve self-indulgently done a couple of these before — one year in Texas, four years in Texas, and last year’s copious six years in Texas entry — and they’re all various degrees of “Why would I read this?” coupled with me cringing when I write parts, but still feel the need to do so. If you wish, continue with me.

There were some semi-big changes to life since the last one of these I wrote, notably I got married (second time) and bought a house (first time). Also, after a bad 2019 financially and a pretty good 2020, 2021 looks “better than pretty good.” My dog is still alive, as are my parents, and I have not one but two separate WeWork swipe cards. Things are mostly OK. I could sleep better, I could drink less, and I could have more friends, but we’re about to cover all that, so standby.

My 2010 bed and breakfast story

In April 2010, around the same time Sam Bradford was being drafted into the NFL, I stayed at a bed and breakfast — with my ex-wife, then girlfriend — somewhere in western Florida. The other couple in the B&B was from Fort Worth. At breakfast one morning, I asked them: “What is that, a suburb of Dallas?” If I said that today, I’d punch myself in the gonads. It’s actually the 12th-biggest city in the U.S. and the second-fastest-growing city in 2020, behind Seattle. So, yea. Ain’t no suburb of Dallas. People change a lot in their understanding of life across 11 years, I guess. That might be my only example of positive change (I jest!), but 11 years can shift a man.

The cancellations

I think this past year was generally a friendship reckoning for a lot of people, in terms of who you choose to see vs. who you don’t in the context of various lockdowns and just general reactions to COVID and politics. In the process, I think a lot of dams that were close to bursting friendship-wise for me just outright burst, with notable examples being the best man in my first wedding, a kid from the crew associated with my ex’s girlfriends, and a few others. Now, a lot of these relationship drops are almost entirely my fault. Before I got married, I texted a few people some weird shit about wanting to be recognized for reinvention (more on that in the next section). That was pompous and self-indulgent in many respects, and I might cancel myself over that, honestly.

Then I got piped off some social platforms — it looks like I’m gone from LinkedIn forever, sadly. I say “sadly” with a touch of irony because I’m not sure I will truly miss it, but alas. I was in Facebook Jail twice in the past year, usually for 48 hours or so, typically tied to something I said after drinking to someone who was being an asshole. I like Twitter and remain there, but to say I “get engagement” there would be laughable. So, platform-wise, I’m a bit cancelled in general, sure.

The reinvention

As self-indulgent as those pre-wedding texts were, let me just say this: one of the hardest things to do in life is change, and full-scale reinvention change is super fucking hard. Believe me, because I know. If you were to look at my phone in 2013, all the main people I exchanged texts with? I speak to essentially none of them now. It is true what Kanye once taught us: “People in your life are seasons.” While that’s accurate, I’ve also been divorced (I can assume a chunk of that blame as well!) and I’ve done stupid stuff within friendships, so I’ve lost a bunch of people and had to reinvent along the way. In the past year, I’ve become closer with a church group and a few random people I’ve met along the way in Texas. So it’s possible, and I just want to tell you that if you’re reading this and you got this far, whenever you’re down on the mat of life and feel you lack people and next steps, they do exist. They do. It’s hardly ever easy, but they do.

What I need to fix

I still drink too much. Need to fix that, and that’s a common thread across all these types of posts. I do think I’m closer than I’ve been before — nice, as I’m now 40 — but I still have work to do there, and need to put that in and execute upon it.

I need more IRL relationships, which I work on semi-consistently, but could do better. It’s harder — lame excuse time! — when you’re 40 sans kids, but still doable, and I could put more into this.

Working out as a general thing.

Trying to get more involved civically as a general thing.

Being a good husband and son and dog dad as a general thing.

Understanding the mix of my own self-efficacy and the Lord’s role in my life as a broader thing.

Probably tweeting less about “wokeness.”

Remembering that, if people don’t give a shit about me overtly, I have no reason to give a shit about them back, all-in.

Trying to rush to understanding and forgiveness instead of anger.

Continuing to try and figure out what “success” really is.

Chasing less of my own relevance, and more of giving back and finding solutions for others.

Creating hobbies.

Reading more.

Figuring out my fertility journey stuff.

Being a better friend.

Hoping to keep talking about bigger topics, like ideology vs. data, and find more of a voice and audience.

So yes, I’m a human being

A lot to work on, and some small victories along the path of improving and trying to grow out of the bullshit parts.

Here’s to the 8th edition of this post, 364-366 days from now. Hopefully I’ll be in an even better place.

For anyone who ever reads this stuff, thank you. Honestly.