Hey, I'm Curtis.
And not too long ago, I was exactly where you might be right now — sitting at my kitchen table, half-eaten sandwich nearby, wondering when life went from dream big to just survive.

The house was quiet — well, aside from the low hum of the dishwasher and my dog snoring so loud it could shake walls.
And there I sat, staring blankly, asking myself, "Is this it?"

Turns out, it wasn’t.
Not even close.

This is my story — and maybe, just maybe, it’s about to become yours too.

When Life Slowly Presses the Pause Button on Your Dreams

It didn’t happen all at once.
I didn’t wake up one morning and think, "Well, Curtis, you’re officially stuck."

Nope.
It was sneaky.

It crept in between the 9-to-5 grind, the Little League games, the last-minute science fair projects (seriously, why are they ALWAYS last minute?), the clogged sinks, the endless bills.

At first, it was just little things — a dream I’d "put off" until next month.
Then next year.
Then... someday.

You know how microwaving a frozen turkey never works out the way you want?
That was my life.
On the outside, it looked "fine."
Inside, I felt half-thawed, half-cooked, and totally stuck.

The "Curtis Wake-Up Call"

One afternoon, I found myself sitting in the car after grocery shopping, just... sitting.
The ice cream was melting in the trunk, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

It hit me like a truck:
I wasn’t excited about anything anymore.
Not work.
Not weekends.
Not even the occasional Friday pizza nights (and I really love pizza).

I was living on autopilot.
A robot dad. A paycheck machine.
Somewhere between snack duty and work meetings, Curtis had gone missing.

And that realization?
It scared the crap out of me.

Life Had Stolen My Passion (But I Let It Happen)

The truth is, I used to dream BIG.

When I was younger, I wanted to build things — cool things.
I loved working with my hands, designing stuff, creating projects that made people’s lives better.

I didn’t dream of sitting behind a desk sorting spreadsheets until my soul shriveled up.

But life has a way of handing you a mortgage, a couple of kids, some gray hairs, and a whole lot of responsibilities — and pretty soon, your dreams get boxed up and shoved into the attic along with the old Christmas decorations.

No one plans for it.
It just... happens.

If you’re nodding along right now, welcome to the club, my friend.
You're not broken.
You're just overdue for a comeback.

The Night I Gave Myself Permission

That night, after tucking the kids into bed and cleaning up yet another Lego landmine from the hallway, I sat at my kitchen table and did something radical.

I asked myself, "What if wanting more isn’t selfish?"

What if it’s actually the most important thing I could do — for me, for my family, for my future?

I used to think being a good parent meant putting everyone else first, every second of every day.
Turns out, being a good parent also means showing your kids what it looks like to chase your dreams even when it’s hard.

I decided right then:
Curtis was coming back.

Not all at once.
Not with a grand announcement.
But piece by piece, spark by spark.

The “Joy List” That Changed Everything

I didn’t know where to start.
All I knew was that I needed something to pull me out of the fog.

So I grabbed a pen and a crumpled notebook from the junk drawer and wrote down a simple list:
"Stuff That Used to Make Curtis Feel Alive."

Here’s what ended up on that list:

• Building stuff with my hands (anything—birdhouses, bookshelves, you name it)

• Playing guitar (badly but happily)

• Coaching Little League (without turning into that parent)

• Long hikes with no destination

• Reading books that made my brain light up

That scrappy little list was like a treasure map — a map back to myself.

And here’s the thing:
You have a treasure map too.
You just have to sit down, dust it off, and dare to look at it again.

The Tiny Step That Made a Huge Difference

I didn’t quit my job.
I didn’t move to a mountain cabin and start raising goats. (Although… never say never.)

I started with ten minutes a day.

Ten minutes to do one thing that made me feel like Curtis again.

Some nights I built tiny wooden projects in the garage.
Some nights I plucked out messy guitar chords after the kids went to sleep.
Some nights I just read something inspiring instead of falling asleep to reruns of "Storage Wars."

And you know what happened?

Those tiny sparks added up.
They lit a fire under my life again.

Energy I thought was gone forever came roaring back.
Not overnight.
Not easily.
But consistently..

How I Dealt with the Guilt (And Why You Should Too)

Now, let’s be real — the minute I started taking time for myself, that nasty little voice in my head showed up.

You know the one.
It whispers, "Shouldn’t you be doing something more important?"
“Isn’t this selfish?”
“The lawn isn’t going to mow itself, Curtis!”

For a while, I listened.
I felt guilty taking time away from laundry, emails, even mindlessly scrolling Facebook to build a bookshelf no one asked for.

But here’s the truth I learned the hard way:
Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish.
It’s essential.

You can’t pour from an empty coffee cup, right?
(And trust me, mine was bone dry.)

The more I did things that reignited my soul, the better I showed up for my family.
More patience.
More laughs.
More energy (even without three cups of afternoon coffee).

Self-care isn’t an indulgence.
It’s maintenance.
Like changing the oil in your car — only, y’know, for your soul.

Finding My Tribe (A.K.A. People Who Made Me Feel Alive Again)

At first, it was just me and my garage projects — but it didn’t stay that way for long.

One day at my kid's soccer game, I overheard another dad talking about building custom bikes in his free time.
I nearly dropped my coffee.

Wait, you mean... other adults still have hobbies?

Long story short, we started chatting.
Then we found a few more parents who also felt a little stuck, a little restless, and a lot ready to do something about it.

We started getting together — sometimes to build stuff, sometimes just to talk dreams over greasy diner burgers.

These people?
They became my Energy Boosters.

Important Lesson:
Surround yourself with folks who fan your flames, not ones who dump water on your spark.

Find your tribe — the ones who light you up, not weigh you down.
Hang out with people who are like human espresso shots. ☕🚀

Redefining Success (The Curtis Way)

When I was younger, I thought success meant big titles, big paychecks, big houses.

Turns out, success is laughing with your kids until your stomach hurts.
Building something with your own two hands.
Feeling excited when you wake up, even if it’s just a little bit.

It’s not about how much money you have or how many likes you get online.
It’s about how alive you feel inside.

Now, when people ask me what I’m working toward, I don’t list achievements.

I say, "I’m building a life I don’t need a vacation from."

If that’s not success, I don’t know what is.

Taking Imperfect, Messy Action (Because Waiting for Perfect Is a Trap)

Look — if I waited until everything was "perfect" to start chasing my passions again, I’d still be sitting on the couch, covered in Dorito dust, making excuses.

Starting messy was the best decision I ever made.

The first bookshelf I built?
Crooked as a politician.
But I was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

The first songs I played on my dusty old guitar?
Out of tune.
Offbeat.
Awesome.

The first article I ever wrote for fun?
Terrible.
Laughably bad.
But it opened a door.

Imperfect action beats perfect intentions every time.

You don’t need the perfect plan, the perfect day, or the perfect mood.
You just need to start.

Messy is better than motionless.

The Curtis Comeback: Where I Am Now

These days?
I’m still a regular guy with a mortgage, a minivan that smells suspiciously like french fries, and a schedule that sometimes feels like it was designed by a caffeinated squirrel.

But I’m alive again.

I build things in my garage that make me proud.
I jam out horribly on my guitar (and the kids even join in sometimes).
I coach Little League not because I have to, but because I want to.

And best of all — I’ve shown my kids that chasing your dreams isn’t just for teenagers or billionaires or Instagram influencers.

It’s for hardworking parents like me.
It’s for people like you.

You’re Next, My Friend

If you’re feeling stuck — if you’re sitting at your own kitchen table staring at a sad peanut butter sandwich wondering if life is just one endless loop — hear me loud and clear:

It’s not too late.
You are not stuck forever.
You are one tiny spark away from reigniting your passion.

Give yourself permission.
Make your Joy List.
Take that first messy step.
Find your people.
Define success your way.

You deserve a life that makes you feel excited again.
You deserve to come alive.

Because trust me — Curtis did it.
And if I can, so can you.

5 Quick FAQs Before You Go

Q1: Curtis, what if I don’t even know what my passion is anymore?
That’s okay! Start with curiosity. Follow what makes you even a little excited.

Q2: How do I find time with work and kids and... life?
Start tiny. 10 minutes a day. You’ll be amazed at what builds from there.

Q3: What if people judge me for trying something new?
People will judge you either way. Might as well give them something inspiring to talk about.

Q4: How do I stop feeling guilty about taking time for myself?
Remember: taking care of yourself is taking care of your family. A lit-up you is the best gift you can give them.

Q5: Is it really too late for me?
No. Full stop. It's never too late to become the person you were meant to be.