How I Lost 50 Pounds and Found Myself

In July 2020, I was on top of the world. My company had hit a million dollars in revenue, I was four years sober, and life felt like it was finally coming together. I had built a Rampage three-foot halfpipe in my backyard, complete with a three-and-a-half-foot extension. It wasn’t massive, but it was meaningful—a testament to the life I was building and the freedom I had found in sobriety. That same month, I matched with someone on Match.com, which felt like a small miracle during the pandemic.

Skateboarding wasn’t just a hobby for me; it was my identity, my outlet, and my connection to the present moment. I had a vibrant community in AA, where I spoke at high schools and led step groups. Everything felt aligned. I was ready for the next chapter—marriage, growth, and fulfillment.

But in February 2021, everything unraveled in one terrifying night.

The Furnace Fire That Changed Everything

It was 2:30 a.m. when my dad woke me up.

“Bill, wake up. I smell smoke,” he said.

Still half-asleep, I followed him downstairs to check it out. When I opened the basement door, smoke began curling upward. I stared for a second, confused, until it hit me. “Oh shit, I think the furnace is on fire,” I screamed.

All I could think was, “The furnace is going to explode.”

Two years as a marketing director at a hazmat company, writing about oil tanks, and I didn’t know if it was combustible like that or not.

I bolted upstairs, shouting, “The furnace is on fire!” My mom was already awake, standing in the hallway, waiting to hear what I had seen. I ran into my room to grab my phone and throw on some pants, but within seconds, thick black smoke started pouring out of the vents like liquid, flooding the room.

The smoke spread so fast we had no time to react. The hallway was suffocating, and the air burned our lungs. We were forced downstairs, coughing and trying to catch our breath. My mom, shaking so badly she could barely hold the phone, tried to dial 911—and dropped it (it was a house phone—who remembers those?). The battery popped out, and I’ll never forget how long it felt like it took to put it back together.

Amidst the chaos, I ran back upstairs to grab one of the dogs while my mom ran to get another. My dad? He went into his office to grab some lottery tickets. Meanwhile, we were expecting the house to explode any second. Our cat was in the basement—completely inaccessible as the first place the smoke started—but miraculously, the cat survived.

We stumbled outside into the freezing snow and waited in the car, terrified.

Finding Myself After Losing Everything

That night was the beginning of everything falling apart. I spent one night in a hotel while my parents stayed at my sister’s house. But her place wasn’t big enough for all of us, so I ended up spending what was supposed to be a few nights at my girlfriend’s condo. The remediation team had told us it would only take a couple of days to clean the vents.

Those “few nights” turned into weeks, and in March 2021, just a month later, I broke my elbow. It wasn’t just a break—it was a full tricep tear. The force was so strong it ripped off part of my elbow, still attached to the muscle, and tore my UCL. Suddenly, I was stuck in her condo, dependent on her help. She’s a nurse practitioner and naturally wanted to take care of me, but it started to feel like I was losing myself.

The reality was, I had just had surgery and was on opiates for the first time since getting sober. I wasn’t in any state of mind to make decisions, but I ended up living there because my girlfriend told me, “It would feel like a step backwards if you moved back to your parents’ house now.” Even though that wasn’t what I wanted, I stayed. I shouldn’t have.

And the panic I felt that night stayed with me long after the smoke cleared.

Skating, Keto, Fasting and Freedom

I couldn’t skateboard because of my elbow, and I was gaining weight. By the time November rolled around, I felt fat and depressed. Then, in December 2022, I stumbled upon a random YouTube video by Sadhguru. He said something that shocked me: “You don’t need to eat more than once a day.”

That video planted a seed. I started researching and found myself binge-watching videos by Thomas DeLauer and Dr. Eric Berg about keto and fasting. For the first time, I began to understand how the body works. I learned that the body isn’t just a machine that wears out—it can heal itself if you give it the right tools.

In January 2023, I did my first three-day fast. It reset everything. That fast was the turning point, and over the next few months, I experimented with alternate-day fasting, seven-day fasts, and keto. I started to see massive shifts—not just physically, but mentally and spiritually.

Shedding the Weight of Others’ Expectations

Through this journey, I didn’t just lose 50 pounds. I shed the weight of others’ expectations. But I didn’t fully realize this until August 2024, when I got divorced, left my company, and let go of nearly all my relationships. It was impossible to keep them. I started learning about Reiki and began my Reiki Master certification. This wasn’t just a physical transformation—it was a spiritual awakening.

Skateboarding, fasting, and learning about nutrition were my entry points into freedom. They gave me the tools to rebuild my identity on my terms.

What now?

I realized that healing isn’t something you do alone — it’s something you practice together.

That’s why I started Resonance Agency — to help healers, creators, and entrepreneurs build systems that honor their energy and truth. It’s why I helped launch The Frequency Center in Milford — a living experiment in what community healing can look like when sound, salt, and nervous system awareness come together.

And it’s why I started Frequency Club — a free men’s group every Thursday at 7 AM.

It’s not therapy. It’s not religion. It’s a space for men to ground, breathe, stretch, and reconnect to what’s real. We talk about purpose, strength, discipline, and how to build lives that actually feel good from the inside out.

Because healing isn’t the absence of pain — it’s the practice of tuning back into who you are.

If this resonates, come join me. Bring an open mind, leave the noise at the door, and start your morning in frequency.