A Small Town Boy

I grew up in Charleston, SC. I was raised in a Pentecostal household where every answer to life was found in the Bible. In the early eighties, for a young African American male, there were but a few choices: be a great athlete and get a scholarship, become a preacher, work in the shipyard, join the military, or more likely, live a life of crime. I was a pretty good athlete until I suffered a terrible hip injury. Preacher it is, but there were voices in my head telling me there was more out there, that the world was much larger than just the Lowcountry, larger than North Union Heights, larger than Charleston, South Carolina. Something was pulling me; I knew I needed to see more of the world.

The day after high school graduation, I drove down to the military recruiting office and said, “I want more”. I would have joined any branch of service that would take me, but I had metal pins in my hips, so the Army, Marines, and Air Force shied away. However, the Navy recruiter needed a body. After reviewing my x-rays, he asked me to perform some flexibility exercises. I did, and he passed me. He said, “Son, how would you like to sail the seven seas, see the world?” I replied, “When can we start?” His response, “I can have you on a plane in less than 24 hours.” I joined the Navy.

More than a Color

In the Deep South. In the 70s and 80s, it was not considered segregated, but we naturally segregated ourselves regardless of the laws of the time. I had very little interaction with anyone other than other Black people. The Navy changed all of that. All races worked, ate, and slept together; we had to become brothers. But there was even more. I traveled to many countries—Spain, Italy, France, England. I found people that looked like me but could not speak my language. I learned the world was a whole lot bigger than I could have ever imagined, and humans came in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors. I could no longer be a color; I was a part of something much bigger. My race was not Black but human. I decided to be a part of the human race and see everyone as well as judge everyone on how they behave as a human and how they treat me as a human. I could no longer be limited to a color, and I choose to no longer judge based on color. I see humans that behave well and humans that behave badly, I see happy humans and sad humans. I am interested in any human that needs my help.

The Simplicity of Love – The First Marriage

As a young Navy man, I met young ladies. At one point in my military life, I was stationed close to Charleston. I returned to my local church, and my family reminded me that sex outside of marriage would absolutely condemn me to hell. I was very torn. On the one hand, I was meeting girls, but on the other hand, I would love to avoid eternal damnation. So, I met a girl from the church. After a few months of dating, she said to me at 19 years of age, “Why don’t we get married?” She followed with, “What are you doing now that you couldn’t do once we are married?” My thought was, well, I know one thing we could do—have sex—and I would not have to spend eternity in hell for it. So, we married. There’s no need to go into the complexities of my teenage marriage at this point; I’m sure you can fill in many of the blanks.

I Didn’t Read the Manual

As you can imagine, children soon followed. We were both children ourselves, so we were ill-prepared to be parents. We did the very best we could to raise our children, but we both made many mistakes with our relationship as well as with our children. Ultimately, our marriage did not survive. I experienced a whole lot of disappointment, shame, and guilt.

My Superpower

I had but one set of tools in my toolbox throughout my journey, despite all the constant mistakes and bad choices. I possessed unexplainable happiness, optimism, and a belief that things would be okay. After my military service, I struggled to find my place in normal society. I stumbled through various jobs, lost as far as career and future earnings were concerned. I was without direction; all I had was a boyish smile and a good attitude.

One day, I answered a newspaper ad from a company looking to hire and train salesmen. The key part of the ad said no experience necessary, so I decided to apply. The sales manager asked me why I thought I could be a salesman. I told him I had sold women’s perfume door-to-door (which, by the way, was not true). I’m not sure if he believed me or not, but I got the job. I was given one week to produce a car sale from the phone book. Four days in, things were not looking so great.

By chance, I called a woman from the phone book. Her name was Gloria Washington. By some stroke of divine universal chance or luck, she was about to go look for a car. I lost my bearings. I told her my life story squeezed into about a 3-minute period. She laughed, drove down to see me, and made a purchase. To make a long story short, this kept happening over and over again. I soon became the top sales professional with my company. It was strictly my joy, great attitude, and optimism that people seemed to love being around, and they loved doing business with me. I became very successful at sales.

But I knew there was more. Armed with my new confidence through sales, I went back and got educated. I wanted to know what was making me successful, and I was driven by my fear of my sales success coming to an end. I signed up for as many sales courses and seminars as offered, including Hull Dobbs, Jackie Cooper, and Grant Cardone. Ultimately, I became the sales manager. Later, I went to finance school, became an industry-leading finance manager, a certified advanced sales trainer, and returned to pursue formal education. I was paid at the top of my industry.

Unlucky in Love

But my career success did not translate into good, healthy relationships. It led to bars, nightclubs, and meeting and having casual, unhealthy relationships—ultimately, dating apps, hurting people, and being hurt. At some point, it seemed like I was meeting the same people; they just had different names. I finally realized the common denominator was me. I realized I needed to go back and figure out who I was and what I wanted. I had to first learn to love myself.

I began the slow process of figuring out who Theo was. I cut off the dating sites, focusing on myself. I worked on my physical health as well as my mental health. I learned meditation. I slowed my social life down completely. Slowly, I began to have a clearer picture of who I wanted to be and how to get there, and even more exciting, what kind of person I wanted in my life. As I became mentally healthy, I created a small list of my must-haves in a spouse and made myself a promise to be alone and just love myself unless I met a person who matched my true desires. Finally, content.

The Universe Strikes Again

One afternoon while working in my office, I received a profile in my email. That was strange because I was no longer active on any dating sites. I reached to delete the message, but I noticed the woman—not just physically, but I also read her words. I looked at my list, smiled, and said, “She matches in theory what was on my list.” Reluctantly, I sent a response. We began a correspondence that led me to my true love, Betsy Crisman-Brown. Zest and happiness grew for both of us as our relationship deepened. She noticed that I would always give a small disclaimer about subjects involving human physiology and things of that matter. Being a Positive Psychology Practitioner, a lot of my beliefs about human behavior were spot on with her training.

I Once was Lost but now I’m Found

I found my community. I found my purpose. I found my passion. I found my wife. I have the love of my life. Together, we are building a company that is our passion—The Journey of WE. Our mission together is to help you find what we have found together in our life journey: love, success, and true happiness. We know it is possible, and we can help you get there.