Vulnerable

Living in Fear: The Prison of Abuse

The damage he inflicted went far beyond bruises or scars—it seeped into every corner of our lives, turning our home into a prison of fear. His cruelty was calculated and cold, each act meticulously designed to shatter us. He’d make me bend over, naked and exposed, striking me with his belt buckle and commanding me not to cry. This wasn’t just punishment; it was humiliation, stripping me of my dignity as my family watched, paralyzed by fear. The shame left scars deep within my soul.

A Childhood Stolen: Physical, Emotional, and Spiritual Scars

At six, I thought I had already suffered enough after being burned in an accident. I spent months in the hospital enduring infections, a coma, and extensive surgery—only to return to a house that offered no safety. My parents threw a homecoming party, but when I retreated to my room, fragile and exhausted, he stormed in and slapped me hard across the face, demanding I rejoin the gathering. My near-death experience changed nothing; his cruelty never wavered.

His fury tainted even the simplest joys. One Christmas, when I was seven, I accidentally spilled liquid from a new toy. He shattered my joyful moment, throwing the toy against the wall and sneering as he told me Santa didn’t exist. He told me I was useless, a word he repeated over and over, embedding it deep within me and reshaping how I saw myself. That word became an inner truth I would spend years trying to escape.

As I grew older, his violence escalated. One evening, he pushed my mother to the floor, sat on her, and pressed his switchblade into her chest in front of us. I stood frozen, convinced she was dead, as he barked orders for us to fetch bandages. Later that night, he returned from a local bar reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. Holding that same knife to my throat, he boasted that he’d already killed my mother and sister. “Are you ready to die?” he sneered. Inside, I screamed for him to end it already.

By the time I was ten, he had forced me to work alongside him at his gas station, making me a constant witness to his infidelities and simmering rage. He manipulated me, offering small reprieves from his wrath in exchange for my silence when he started an affair with his partner’s wife. It was a twisted bargain that made me feel complicit in his cruelty, yet I clung to those moments of peace, desperate for any break from the brutality.

The Ultimate Betrayal: Sexual Abuse and Dehumanization

His abuse and control went beyond physical and verbal torment. He would expose himself, showing off his erections and forcing me to touch him, laughing as he said, “One day, you’ll have this too, when you’re a real man.” His words weren’t just a threat—they were a curse, designed to warp my sense of self.

Freedom Denied: His Death Didn’t End His Hold on Me

When I was fifteen, he put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger. I thought I was finally free of him. But his death didn’t break his hold on me. Night after night, he returned in my dreams. I’d stand over his casket, watching as his eyes suddenly snapped open, cold and lifeless, and his hands reached up to wrap around my throat. I’d wake up gasping, my body drenched in sweat. His presence lingered; his grip was as real in the waking world as it was in my sleep. No matter how far I tried to run, he was there, reminding me that even death couldn’t free me from him.

The Mask of Success: Hiding a Broken Spirit

For decades, I lived in silence, suffocated by my childhood horrors. On the outside, I appeared to be a successful husband, father, and corporate executive—a global leader and author, traveling the world to teach and coach leaders, and dedicating myself to community service. I received global recognition and awards for my work. Despite those accolades, my mask became a second skin, hiding the turmoil within and the fear of being exposed. Behind the mask, though, was a terrified child, haunted by my father’s relentless abuse.

The Harm Multiplies: Society’s Silence and Self-Inflicted Pain

The harm perpetuated itself in three ways: first by my father; then magnified by a society that encouraged my silence and taught me that vulnerability is weakness; and, finally, by me—unwittingly carrying it forward, inflicting pain and abuse on myself, all while hiding behind the mask I had created to conceal my suffering.

Men and Silence: Breaking the Stigma Around Male Survivors

Men rarely speak up about abuse. Less than 16% of male survivors share their stories, held back by stigma, shame, and societal expectations of strength. For decades, I was one of them. I punished myself, desperate for control. Obsessive gym sessions, cycles of bingeing, purging, and encounters with strangers filled my void. Therapy and work offered some relief, but nothing could erase the shadow of my father’s cruelty. His memory became my prison, a reminder of the control he continued to hold over me from beyond the grave.

VULNERABLE: A Blueprint for Healing and Empowerment

VULNERABLE: One Man’s Journey from Abuse to Abundance arrives at a critical time, offering more than just my personal story—it’s a roadmap for healing and resilience. It’s become my life’s goal to inspire others to break their silence and move past their trauma. Millions of people—especially male survivors—hide behind masks and submerge their pain. We’re conditioned to believe that strength means silence, but silence only serves to poison us from within, eroding our self-worth. It’s time to break the silence, reclaim our power, and begin to heal.

A Broader Mission: Breaking the Silence, Building a Movement

In the growing literary space for stories of resilience—like Educated by Tara Westover and Know My Name by Chanel Miller—VULNERABLE stands as a blueprint for both personal growth and societal change, offering a platform for broader conversations about trauma recovery and the power of vulnerability. My book weaves together several important themes that resonate with a broad audience:

• Breaking the silence: the importance of speaking out against abuse and ending the stigma that surrounds it.
• Healing through vulnerability: how embracing vulnerability can lead to strength, resilience, and empowerment.
• Resilience and growth: how trauma can be transformed into a source of strength, with practical advice on how to achieve personal growth.
• Community and support: critical role of loved ones, friends, and community in supporting survivors and helping them navigate their healing journey.

VULNERABLE is an urgent call to action—the start of a movement to break the crushing silence of abuse and help people reclaim their lives.