There have been seasons in my career where I found myself questioning the true impact of my work. I would ask in quiet repetition: Am I helping anyone? Do my contributions truly matter? Is the effort I pour into this role improving another person’s life or career in a meaningful way? These questions often felt like a book that kept writing itself in the background of my thoughts.
At times, I’ve even wondered whether it was time to close this chapter and seek a different path—one where my impact could be clearer, deeper, and more lasting. Yet, I’ve also recognized that the knowledge and skillsets I’ve built over the years don’t need to be left behind. Instead, they can be transformed, refined, and repurposed into something greater: a new way of thinking, a methodology that creates measurable change and helps others see possibilities they hadn’t considered before.
For me, the next stage of my journey isn’t just about doing the work. It’s about leveraging what I’ve learned to create ripple effects, shaping lives, guiding growth, and building frameworks that outlast any single project or role.
Looking in the rear-view mirror…
Finding Peace: My Journey Through Struggle, Sobriety, and Renewal
A career is often described as a path or a ladder. But the truth is, a career is much more than a job title or a paycheck—it’s an extension of who we are. The choices we make, the challenges we face, and the lessons we learn along the way all shape not only our professional lives, but our personal ones as well.
The reality, though, is that the path rarely runs straight. Some turns lead us toward opportunities we embrace with open arms. Others lead us into places we never expected—dark corners where we’re tested in ways we never thought possible. It’s in those moments, the hardest ones, that we begin to discover who we truly are.
The Early Turns in My Story
Three years into my career at an Executive Recruiting firm I still proudly work with 17 years later—I found my path changing. Not because of work, but because of life outside of it.
At 20, I became a father to my son, Elijah. Fatherhood at that age was both a blessing and a challenge, and while I loved my son deeply, I struggled with how to balance responsibility, ambition, and my own personal growth. Between 22 and 36, I went through two long-term relationships that were toxic and draining. The weight of those years took a toll, and in the midst of it, I turned to drinking.
What started as temporary relief quickly became dependency. I became what many call a “high-functioning alcoholic.” But my addiction was different, it wasn’t about the act of drinking itself. It was about maintaining a state of high performance, about using alcohol as the fuel to keep myself moving at the pace I thought I needed to survive. My body learned to rely on it to feel normal. And eventually, it broke me.
Hitting the Breaking Point
There came a moment when I could no longer deny the truth: I couldn’t do it anymore. My body was failing. I could barely stand. Breathing felt impossible. Fear consumed me, and it felt like I was burning alive from the inside out.
That was the moment I decided something had to change.
I admitted myself into a two-month rehabilitation program. But within just 36 hours, the withdrawal symptoms nearly killed me. I was rushed to the hospital, given multiple blood transfusions, and monitored around the clock for nearly a week. Once my body stabilized, I returned to finish my program.
That was a little over four years ago.
Rebuilding Life
Today, I’ve been sober for more than four years. Sobriety didn’t just give me my health back—it gave me clarity. It gave me the chance to become the man, father, and partner I always wanted to be.
I am now married to the love of my life, Capri. Together, we’re raising four incredible boys. I show up for them every day, fully present, fully myself.
Sobriety gave me more than peace of mind—it gave me peace with myself.
Lessons I’ve Carried Forward
Looking back, my journey has taught me a few truths I hold onto:
- Your career doesn’t define you—your choices do. A job may sustain your life, but it’s who you are in the hardest moments that shapes the path forward.
- High functioning doesn’t mean healthy. Outward success can mask deep struggle. True strength comes from facing what’s broken, not hiding it.
- Change begins the moment you decide you’re ready. No one else can make that choice for you. Mine nearly killed me before it saved me, but I’m grateful every day that I made it.
- Peace is possible. No matter how chaotic or broken things feel, renewal is always on the other side of courage.
If there’s one thing I would want anyone reading this to take away, it’s this: life’s turns—both good and bad—are not the end of your story. They are the chapters that prepare you for what’s next.
For me, the next chapter is about being present, being grateful, and helping others see that even when the path gets dark, there’s always a way forward.
And finally, if I had to put the culmination of my journey into one sentence, it would be this:
I am finally at peace with everything.
Let’s get back to work…
Rediscovering Purpose in My Career
During my troubled years, I had become complacent in my career. The work was familiar, repetitive, and came easily. On the surface, everything seemed fine. But in reality, I was just going through the motions.
When I turned my life around, it wasn’t meant to impact only my personal life. I realized that my career—and the nature of the work I do—matters. It means something. It touches lives. It has the power to ripple outward, affecting families, futures, and entire trajectories.
Over the years, I’ve had thousands of conversations with professionals from all walks of life. Time and time again, I’ve seen how a single career decision can restore a person’s sense of purpose. In many cases, I was able to help people re-center themselves in roles that were more meaningful and fulfilling than where they had been before.
Still, I couldn’t shake a lingering feeling: the work I was doing could transform into something more.
I wanted to go beyond simply matching people to roles. I wanted to help them find careers they were both passionate about and great at.
Breaking Down the Job Search
The problem, as I saw it, was the job search itself. For many, it’s a frustrating, dehumanizing process. You can be the perfect fit for a position but never get noticed because your résumé didn’t check the right boxes for an algorithm. You can pour hours into applications, only to feel lost in a sea of others all doing the same thing.
So, I began studying the process. I broke it down to its core, analyzing the pitfalls and asking myself how to eliminate them. What I discovered was a way to bypass many of these barriers by helping candidates get their information directly in front of the key decision-makers within the companies they truly wanted to work for.
Leave the technical details to me—but what matters is this: I found a method that works. A method that restores dignity and humanity to the job search, and most importantly, helps people connect with opportunities they care about.
Helping people in this way has reignited a passion in me. It gave me a new level of excitement for my career, reminding me that what I do isn’t just a job—it’s a calling.
Close the book, or turn the page…
There have been many moments throughout my life where I felt like the easiest solution to the things I was struggling with was to close the book on that front and take the easy way out—settle for less and move past it by making excuses, not making the most out of my story. It hasn’t always been the easiest or quickest route. But I am so thankful that I gathered the courage to turn the page and continue my journey toward a better and more fulfilling life.
So, allow me to encourage you with these parts of my story. If you find yourself unsure, unhappy, lacking excitement, or burnt out, I hope you choose to turn your page and take a leap of faith to push on. You never know what could be right around the corner and in store for you. I can, however, tell you one thing with certainty: if you make the choice to close your book and end the story without pressing on, you will wake up one day with one of the most terrible thoughts that anyone can have… “What if…”
For me, the choice to keep reading led to love, family, purpose, and—most importantly—peace.
