My father had custody of Karl and Shannon, while Kelly remained in the sole custody of her mother, visiting every weekend. My mother had custody of Deltrice and Tiko. Together, we all became our own special blended family living under one roof. My mother and father raised each other’s children as their own, so I never knew any difference. There was no half-brother or sister talk; they were simply my siblings. Naturally, all my siblings would point to me being the spoiled one that got everything I wanted. By the time I came around, they had been in the world for many years—in fact, there’s 5 years age difference between us all—so their recollection of me being spoiled early own is more aware than my own. They said I always got what I wanted whether it be their candy that they didn’t want to share or to tag along with them as they hung out with their friends. Despite it all, I grew up surrounded by unconditional love and support.  And to this very day when they insist upon how spoiled they think I am, I simply counter with, “I’m not spoiled; I’m just well taken care of!”

Eight people in the household. As you may imagine, in the Reganomics of the 80’s, money was tight and there were times that my parents didn’t eat to make sure that we ate. My father, having grown up in rural Kentucky, took to hunting many nights to put food on the table. I never saw the struggle; I only remember good times. I remember the laughter and the tight bonds we all developed with one another. I remember lying in my mother’s arms as she watched Knot’s Landing and my father coming home smelling of sweat and garbage but bringing home discarded and cleaned up toys and treasures that others had thrown out after his 40+ hour a week job as a garbage collector. I remember getting close to my brothers’ girlfriends as they pumped me for information about who else they may have been courting in exchange for ice cream or candy.  Like many families, times were hard and although the struggle was real, I was able to see past the struggle and to the better times.  I knew I had a purpose and gift to be able to see the best in the worst.

I have always been self-aware and curious. In fact, my first memory is taking my first steps independently outside as a one year old as my mother kept a watchful eye on me from the window. I had to use the bathroom and I relished in pleasing my parents by using the potty. It was also at 2 that I taught myself how to work the newest video recording technology: the VCR. I did so because I fell in love immediately with Whitney Houston (a love that is still very much intact and unwavering to this day). I’ve always had a knack for observing and studying the behavior of others even at an early age, so much so that people often asked, “what are you looking at?”

As I grew, my parents placed academia in high regards. Before I reached kindergarten, I was not only writing, but spelling and having to learn a new word daily, define it, and use it in a sentence. Imagine my parents’ shock when they received a letter from my kindergarten teacher requesting that they stop teaching me at home as I was outpacing the rest of the class. I must have been around 6 or 7 years old when I asked my mother, driving back home in our “barely-getting-by” black Cadillac,

“Mommy, when you play Old Maid, you match two of the same cards together. Why don’t you do that with people—boy with boy and girl with girl?”  It made sense to me.  I knew it made me different.

“You just…don’t,” she replied.

Little did I know then that I had, in my own adolescent way, come out of the closet. It would take until my early 20’s before I officially came out.

As the years progressed, I knew I was far different from the boys in class. I just didn’t share their same interests.  Their taunts were hurtful and I often found solace and acceptance with the girls in class.  My parents valued academics above all else.  They were determined that I would be a successful scholar and human.  They did so by making me, as a young child, learn a new word and its definition daily and use it in a sentence.  They became so adept at this that when I started kindergarten, my teacher Mrs. Hardy had to send a letter home asking them to stop teaching me at home as I was too far ahead of the other students and was growing restless and bored.

As I grew, academics remained important to me. Friendship at school was great to have, but even more important was making good grades. I became the teacher’s pet, achieving academic success, never missing an assignment or due date. Like many of you reading this, simply put, I was an overachiever and people pleaser. 

My calling as a coach always sought after me.  In middle school, I was named peer mediator by school administration as teachers always and students always found me easy to speak with, a natural leader, and skilled in conflict resolution among my peers.  Some gifts you have, you’re just born with!

I was brought up in the church and after my uncle became pastor of his own church, we began attending regularly.  Immediately, I fell in love with the music ministry and surprised everyone when I decided to join the choir. No one knew I could sing.  I knew I had the gift of song, but there was no place for it with academics.  Furthermore, I was painfully shy and didn’t share my gift with others.  I was content with absorbing ever sound, inflection, and nuance I picked up from my favorite singer Whitney Houston.

My cousin Byron (who is more of a brother than a cousin) was only a year and a few months my senior, but he was the minister of music. Gaining keys to the church, we spent a lot of our time together at the church hanging out and singing even when there was no one there.

However, my time spent at the church was dual purposed: I needed to pray this gay thing away that nagged at me like an itch I was unable to scratch. I fasted, prayed, spoke in tongues—you name it—but it never subsided. I never dated.  People questioned others about but never myself directly. However, I was determined, so I would even go so far as to stay behind to lock up the church after everyone had left just so I could stay behind at the altar and try to eliminate this “sin.”

What I wish I had known then is that, like you, I was good enough just as I was.  I was enough.  There was nothing wrong with me that needed fixing.

My brother Karl could have been an NFL professional.  He was always in the local papers for his athletic achievements and scouts had been coming around to court him for years.  NFL just wasn’t in the cards for him.  You see, he made quite a few bad decisions while attempting to fit in with my father’s side of the family that rejected him for “acting white”  and this landed him in jail for many years.  He wasn’t the only one plagued with the “acting white” diatribe–it would find its way to me because I loved to read and used proper English when speaking.  Nothing feels worse than feeling judged and rejected by your family.  I learned early on that I could love these people but from a distance.  

When Karl got out of prison, the world had moved on without him and I felt as if I didn’t know him anymore. However, I made it a point to get to know my brother all over again, spending weekends and summers at his house with he, his girlfriend, and my little nephew. I became the babysitter but I didn’t mind as being at his house allowed me to get to know the new him.

In 1998, I had a vision. Sitting at the kitchen table at my aunt’s house with my large family simply acting silly, I was transported from the kitchen and in front of what I now refer to as my spiritual IMAX and saw in great detail the impending death of Karl. I told my mother and it honestly freaked her out.

“Don’t say that, boy!” she would exclaim.

A year passed and nothing happened. I thought maybe I had made it up until we received the fateful call on October 8, 1999—Karl had died exactly as I had seen in my vision and shattered my world. To this day, we haven’t an idea of how he died—we knew he was mixed up with some ruthless and powerful drug organization that he couldn’t get out of.  His death was a catalyst for my spiritual and personal development–it led me down the path to discovering the truth of who I really am.  Sometimes, the Universe comes knocking at the door and you have to answer even if you’re not dressed or expecting the company.

Karl somehow figured his days were numbered. In the weeks leading up to his death, he no longer permitted to stay with him because he felt that wasn’t safe. He became increasingly paranoid and even wrote a letter to the family with each individual having their own personalized section of the letter.

In the letter, he said to me that he expected great things from me and for me to go out and use my smarts to change the world.  What I realized is this:  what he said to me was not just for me.  It was for you too!  You, too, can use what you know and who you are and expect the best.

As I began researching this vision, other supernatural phenomena began happening to me that the church could not explain. Reluctantly, I began doing readings for people with incredible accuracy and this only exacerbated my hunger for people watching and observation. Once I headed to college, the first in my immediate family, I had a fire to know how people worked and why they did what they did. What makes people tick.  I threw myself in to sociology, even being approached by the department chair of Sociology at my school and asked to become a member of the prestigious Alpha Kappa Delta, the International Sociology Honor Society. I graduated with a Bachelor’s of Arts degree in both Sociology and Spanish with a minor in Journalism. (I’d later go back and earn my Bachelor’s of Science in Information Technology).

Keeping my mind on Karl’s expectation of me and still connecting with individuals doing readings, I got my first post-college job as an Early Intervention Specialist at First Steps of Southern Indiana, specializing in assistant families from all walks of life with their children who had developmental delays. The work was incredibly fulfilling and it was at First Steps that I say I went to “real world college.”

Doing home visits to enroll the children to the program offered a level of intimacy with the parents that I treasure. They opened up not only about their children but about their lives. My sociological and observant brain thrived, helping the parents find solutions not only about their children but about personal situations that had nothing to do with their children.

The Universe had continued nudging me toward coaching others.  In listening to stories from families of all socioeconomic backgrounds and being invited into their homes during home visits, I realized that we are all connected.  We are all the same.  There is beauty and brilliance in each one of us.  I am you and you are me!

Spirituality, meditation, and journaling have played a major role in shaping the person I have become today. Many years ago, when doing a reading for a friend, she suggested offering online readings professionally. Reluctantly, I opened a page on the ever popular site Reddit to amazing reviews. My style of reading was not only clairvoyant and tarot, but I always implemented a coaching aspect. I became so popular and sought after on Reddit that I was inspired to open my own site paralarry.com, where I began not only offering coaching but continued doing readings.

Then, one night during meditation, I heard the words, “In life, you don’t get what you want. You get what you expect.”   Immediately, my eyes popped open.  It was as if The Universe had been preparing me for this moment.  I pursued this knowledge of expectation, researched it, and in December 2018, wrote and published my first book, Where’s My Pizza? How to Use the Power of Expectation to Create the Life You Want.  It immediately went to #1 as best new release on Amazon and the fire behind it spurred a local CBS affiliate to offer me a monthly segment on the morning news, Ask the Expectation Coach. This segment allows me to take questions from the viewing audience and coach them live on the air with my experience as an author and sociologist.

The help I’m able to provide, the questions that I’m able to answer help to touch and empower lives of countless people.  

The most beautiful and amazing part of my story is my family—both immediate and extended—and my beloved partner JT who is my advisor, best friend, and advocate. He reminds me to laugh and as a counselor himself, assists in strengthening my coaching practices.

You know, when I look in the mirror every morning, I don’t see an African American gay kid from little Indiana. I see a man who is on an absolutely incredible journey and mission to change the world.

I am a storyteller, a sociologist, a thought leader, and an author.  I know it is my calling to help you get clear about the things you want and help you to live the life you’ve always desired.

At this very moment, you are in complete possession of every single thing you require to live the life you’ve always wanted.  You may feel broken, but you’re not discarded.  You may feel that you’re not good enough, but that isn’t the truth.  You may think that you are the problem or that you’re somehow inherently flawed, but that is a major falsehood.

And in the words of my beloved Whitney Houston, “the record is not over yet…”

In fact, things are just beginning.  Join me as we find the COURAGE TO LIVE OUTLOUD!