- 🦄 Favorite color? Orange - 🌈 Favorite Pokemon? Whichever one my son is talking about at the moment. - 🐛 Ur current skool challenge? Making a great course to kick off my paid tier expansion. Btw…I am am epic potty mouth. Can somebody tell me how much trouble that gets me into around here?

favourite color: blue but yellow is lovely pokemon: pikachu current skool challenge: create a successful community

Business is hard. Fun things are easy. So if u make business fun, Business becomes easy. WDYT?

Anti-Blitz style 😎 I want to share a very personal story with you all. Grab a box of tissues and make yourself comfortable 🤧 By the time my mom came home from the hospital with me after my birth, my parents were already separated. I have no memory of the three of us together. There might be a picture or two somewhere, but that's all. My dad battled alcohol addiction for most of his adult life. My mom had to do what was best for me, she could raise me on her own, but she couldn’t have him around. It was a hard choice, no doubt. She never spoke badly about my dad. NEVER. In fact, she genuinely wanted me to have a relationship with him. But there were many promises, and not so many of them were kept. My dad remarried, and I have three half-siblings, six, ten, and sixteen years younger than me. Our relationship is minimal, if anything at all. Fast forward to last year, I found the book It Didn't Start With You by Mark Wolynn. It made me realize how deeply family trauma is passed down through generations, until someone is brave enough to face it. The book includes a list of questions designed to uncover hidden family wounds. I sent the questions to both of my parents, wanting to unearth any skeletons in the closet. The questions were deeply personal. While I was curious about both their responses, I didn’t expect huge surprises from my mom’s side, I had spent my entire childhood with her. But my dad’s past? I knew nothing about it. Not only was he incredibly cooperative, but I also discovered he’s an amazing writer. His emails started pouring in, one after another, written so beautifully, like a novel. And it was all new information for me. Slowly, we started talking. At one point, there was a pause in communication. I sent him a message, asking when I could expect the next chapter. He told me he was working on something else for me and asked me to be patient. A few days later, I received an eight-page letter his entire life story, told through the lens of his relationships, including his relationship with my mother. It was so raw and well-written that I could feel the heartache in every word. It was intense.