It’s a free-for-all being milked like a five-dollar cow at a Vegas rodeo.
The irony is Shakespearean—these same dudes who tried to gut me for being “too public” are now humping every podcast mic from Austin to Anchorage, peddling war stories to sell greens powder and crypto.
The point isn’t to bash brothers for trying to make a living—it’s the fake outrage, the performative purity, the gaslighting about who’s allowed to speak, build, or heal. Some get a free pass, some don’t. But who decides?
At the end of the day, we all hang up the kit, walk off the range, and step into a world that doesn’t give a damn about what we did in Fallujah or on some icy mountain in Kunar. The truth is, every Navy SEAL has to find a new mission after the Teams—whether that’s building a business, writing a book, or, yeah, even selling supplements on a podcast.
Some of us reinvent. Some do not. And if you don’t find a purpose fast out here, that darkness creeps in. Before you know it, you’re staring down a bottle—or worse, trying to suck-start a .45. I’ve seen it. We all have. It’s not talked about enough.
So whether you’re slinging supplements or speaking on stage, don’t pretend you’re holier-than-thou while cashing the same checks you used to curse. Reinvention isn’t the problem; your self-righteous BS is.
As for me, I’m glad when I see my fellow frogmen find success on the outside. Whether it’s building a brand, writing a book, or finally finding some peace.
We’ve all earned a shot at life after war. But damn, I just wish we could stop eating our own in public. The backstabbing, the passive-aggressive podcast jabs, the quiet campaigns to out-sell, out-shine, or out-alpha the next guy, it’s weak MRE sauce.
There’s room at the table for all of us if we’d just stop flipping it over.
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