So, let me not bury the lead. Last week, I resigned from Roblox with no other job lined up. I am leaving tech and going full-time on my own businesses and passion projects.

This decision did not come easy for me; in many ways, it felt like the universe was conspiring and pushing me into it. I mean that in the most positive sense. This year has been a transformative year for me. Many situations came up that were out of my control. Circumstances that forced me to question what I wanted in life, what mattered to me, and made me question who the fuck I was and what I stood for.

If I had to sum up the past six months, it would be with one word - Surrender.

All this loss of control caused my emotional system to panic and latch on to any means of control. It wasn't until I finally decided to surrender control

to my circumstances,
to my grief,
to my body,
to my mind,
to my lack of control
that things started to change.

I sat with the question, "What if I surrendered to non-judgment in everything in my life; what possibilities could exist for my future?". It was challenging to exist in that space. It was painful, and there were moments when I wanted to run away, but ultimately, being with that question led to me being here now - staring down a new mountain to climb.

This year has seen profound changes in my mind and body. After years of feeling like my mind was severed from my body, I finally felt reconnected. There were moments when they were working in unison. Moments when I could sit alone and cultivate love, respect, and acceptance of self.

The deeper I went into my self-work, the more I realized I wasn't alone. Relationships and opportunities opened up in my life. I found a small but powerful group of people to surround myself with, and the vision for my life and the things I intended to create came to me with such clarity.

I guess what I'm saying is, shit's changing y'all, and I'm going along for the ride.

It's undeniable that it's time for me to go all in on Hopeless Mope, The Day After, and the other projects I am working on. I have multiple multi-faceted businesses (say that five times fast) to pour my heart into, and I fully intend for them to be successful. The difference here is, success is a much broader definition for me now, and while I have a vision of what it is, I'm open to whatever it will be.

For a while now, I have been harping on the kids to think about a future designed specifically for them. To figure out what they want and to refuse any version of life given to them by family, friends, society, or me. And I realized that if I didn't take this opportunity, I would be denying them an example of what it looks like to chase the life YOU want.

Making this decision took an incredible amount of overcoming fear and insecurity. Still, my driving force was the hope that moving in this direction would give me the mental space to deepen my relationship with my kids and create the change I wanted to see in the world.

Look, I am scared out of my fucking mind. The odds aren't in my favor that my businesses will amount to anything. I am walking away from a lucrative career that I've built up over the past two decades. I feel anxious now when anyone asks, "What do you do?" because I project all sorts of judgments from everyone. Who I am, my identity, it's changing, and that's fucking scary. But, despite the fear, insecurity, and potential for this not to work out, I have no choice but to run headfirst into this whirlwind.

The joy and contentment I have felt after making this decision are unlike anything I've experienced. So, really, fuck my fears. I'm always afraid. I didn't let it stop me in the past, I can't start now.

Alright, let me leave you with one story.

Ariana and I were lying in bed laughing. I don't remember exactly why, but you can be sure she was either making fun of me about some dumb shit I was doing or showing me a meme. Then as the laughter began to die down, the energy shifted. Everything quieted. Our bodies lay still. I noticed Ariana staring off, distant. Her energy grew heavy. She turned to me and started talking about what life would be like for me after she died.

It was hard to hear and difficult to process. I could only respond by lamenting that I didn't know how I would survive without her. I told her how I didn't want to be without her. The more I talked, the more I felt anger and rage rising in me that she would be taken away from me.

Then, Ariana quietly said, "You will be okay. You still have big things to do in your life. Your time is not over."

I dismissed them as ramblings of a dying woman. A woman who was trying to support her struggling husband.

Two weeks later, she was gone.

At the time, I had no idea she was so close to her demise, and now I look back at that moment and wonder if she saw something or knew something that I didn't. And I have taken her words to heart.

For a while, I was broken about leaving behind my career in tech. It was a career that Ariana helped build. It was a career that afforded me everything I needed to provide for Ariana and the kids. And leaving tech felt like another part of my life with Ariana that was being left behind.

But then, a friend changed the narrative for me.

I'm not leaving behind my life with Ariana. I'm stepping closer to her. The projects and businesses I am creating, showcase how I'm working through my grief and building spaces to help others know it's okay, not to be okay. Each person helped honors Ariana's legacy.

So, I move forward on my new path.