And that, Shannon, is indeed the beginning of real wisdom. This is so very, very true. My ex-husband’s twin brother, an emotional and psychological wreck of a human being (which I have been, too, and shit, probably still am) once said, in all sincerity, that he wanted to be a mentor, a coach.

Dear fucking Christ, I thought. Of all the people in the world, this is the LAST person who should be offering advice. Yet, people like him line up to be come life coaches all the time.

The only real thing you and I can do, Shannon, and your article is a good example of this, is deal with own our shit. Laugh at it. Poke holes in our holiness, as it were. When you and I bear honest witness to our process, we set an example. That’s pretty much all we can do.

All the self-appointed and self-important gurus I ever spent time with were blind to their own arrogance. When called on their shortcomings, boy, too bad you couldn’t buy tickets. Better than an old-fashioned WHO concert with smashed guitars and reckless damage.

To that, all I can say is….


To pilfer one of your phrases:

We are only ever vanquished by that which we deny or refuse to acknowledge.

I just penned a lengthy piece on that very thing, about the disease of partially- woke men.

Red flags indeed. Good post. Shannon. I might posit that everything you said goes for pretty much everyone in our lives from friends to family to coworkers. Any relationship. We might not be able to see the red flags, but there is a tiny person jumping up and down on our shoulders shrieking


Grey hairs will get that one (Lost in Space).

Written by

Horizon Huntress, prize-winning author, adventure traveler, boundary-pusher, wilder, veteran, aging vibrantly. I own my sh*t. Let’s play!

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store