Welcome to Say the Quiet Part
Observations from a fed-up elder millennial man with a rewards card and an existential crisis.
Let’s start with this: I’m not here to sell you anything. Not a mindset. Not a lifestyle. Not a carefully curated version of myself. Just this: a raw, honest space to say the things we’re not supposed to say anymore.
Because somewhere along the way—between social media outrage cycles, polarized politics, and the performative bullshit of modern adulthood—we lost the plot. Free, open thought used to be a thing. Debate used to be a sport, not a war. And now? Now you’re supposed to either stay quiet or pick a side and scream louder than the other one.
I’m not doing either of those.
This is a newsletter for the people stuck in the middle of the wreckage. The elder millennials who did everything right and still ended up tired, disillusioned, and deeply suspicious that the entire game was rigged. The men who grew up in a world of AIM away messages and prime-time debates about blowjobs in the Oval Office and what the definition of “sex” was—and now find themselves navigating algorithmic hellscapes, shifting norms, and moral purity tests from both ends of the spectrum.
I call it like I see it. And I’m seeing a lot of shit that doesn’t make sense anymore.
So… why this Substack?
Because there are too many thoughts in my head and not enough places left to say them out loud.
Because I’m watching the world slide toward some bizarre hybrid of 1970s-level instability and 2020s-level digital numbness, and I want to be awake for it—even if it hurts.
Because I’m in the middle of what you’d absolutely call a midlife crisis—physically, emotionally, spiritually, psychologically—and I’m not documenting it for clicks. I’m doing it because it’s real. Because the ground shifted. And because maybe, just maybe, someone else out there is feeling it too and needs to know they’re not crazy for noticing.
Because traditional media is dead. Cable news is a parody. Instagram is a highlight reel. And Twitter—sorry, “X”—is the world's worst group chat. This is where we talk like humans again.
What kind of stuff am I going to write about?
All of it.
Why both political parties are completely out of touch
What masculinity looks like when you’re no longer trying to prove it
The quiet desperation of high-achieving burnout
Points and miles, bourbon, watches, meat smoking—because sometimes optimization is a coping strategy
Advertising that gets it right, and the lazy shit that makes me want to flip tables
The gym. My kid. Marriage. Aging. Rage. Peace. Credit card hacks. TSA PreCheck.
Whatever’s on my mind, you’ll read it here. Some weeks it might be a deep reflection on self-worth. Other weeks it might be a breakdown of which Hyatt all-inclusive is secretly the best couples getaway. (Spoiler: it’s not the one you think.)
Ground rules.
If you’re going to be here, be here. That means:
Don’t be easily offended. If you are, this isn’t for you.
Challenge me. I want to be called out. Steel sharpens steel.
Bring an open mind. You don’t have to agree, but you do have to be real.
No keyboard warriors. This isn’t Reddit. Don’t posture. Engage.
No sacred cows. Politics, identity, sex, parenting, culture—everything’s on the table.
What this is not.
This isn’t a partisan rant space. I'm a former Democrat who’s not touching MAGA with a ten-foot pole. It's not a therapy journal, though it might get raw. And it's definitely not a self-help blog dressed up in bro quotes and muscle pics.
This is a post-partisan, post-polished, post-patience project for people who feel like the world is broken and want to talk about how we live through it anyway.
So what now?
I don’t know where this goes. I know I want to meet people who get it. I know I want to talk to you—yes, you, who’s been lurking and nodding quietly from the sidelines of my life, maybe through work, maybe from an old college group chat, maybe just from a shared love of bourbon or bonus categories.
This is where all the parts of me come together. This is where I stop compartmentalizing and start integrating. It’s messy, unfiltered, and fully me.
Welcome to Say the Quiet Part.
Let’s make some noise.
—David