Ok, my story starts off 33 years ago, and for future reference, you
should always run when a story starts off like that.
 
     I was born, late and loudly, on December 3rd, 1969 in South Bend,
Indiana. Believe it or not, this is where the story gets confusing. My
mother, who has Cherokee blood on her side, was born into a family
of 13 brothers and sisters. She was given up for adoption along with a
sister, JoAnn, and a brother, Patrick and taken into a very religious fam-
ily of Yugoslavian descent. My father, who's family was traced back to
Turin, Italy, disappeared before I was born so needless to say, I never
met him. And if you can follow this, you obviously need more therapy
than I do.
 
     My mother and I were always on the move when I was growing up.
We've lived all over this country and finally settled in Centreville, Mi-
chigan in 1983. The best way to describe the area was that cows out-
numbered people 3 to 1 and that cow tipping was a past time best
left in the closet. There's something to be said about being raised in the
country. The value system is a whole different breed, and although the 
simplest things are something that you learn to appreciate, when the
power goes out in the village it can still bore the hell out of you.
 
 
     I graduated high school in 1988 with high honors, I was always viewed as very shy and quiet, but those who knew me well enough knew that
it was just a ruse in my plot to take over the world. As I got older and discovered that my grade school fantasy of world domination would be
more difficult to pull off then I had anticipated, I decided pursuing other interests as career choices.
 
     I had a full scholarship after high school to Kendall School of Design in Grand Rapids, Michigan, but decided that my heart was no longer in car-
tooning. I discovered, due to my big mouth, that I would've made a great lawyer. But I realized that with my obsessive compulsive nature and
my need to constantly change my clothes throughout the day, that my wardrobe would never outlast my career.
 
     I also had a strong interest in homicide detecting, serial killer profiling and forensic psychology work. Problem is, dead bodies give me the
heebie jeebies, and it's a well known fact that a fear of corpses can render a homicide detective a worthless, babbling idiot. So, needless to say,
my career in that field was deader than one of the corpses.
 
     I got the hell out of Michigan as soon as I was of legal age. Besides, after you've tipped all the cows and dated all your cousins, what more is
there to do in a God forsaken village? But I digress.
 
     When I moved to Boston, I was immediately picked up by a local modeling agency and realized that I could actually get paid for being an
exhibitionist. It was around this time that the name change took place. After growing up with a "Grandfather Pat", and and "Uncle Pat" in the family,
I decided that I was tired of always being "Little Pat" and I decided on a little bit more originality. I decided on a name that fit my personality and
'Damian' was born. And even though I never met my father, I decided to hold onto a fraction of my heritage and took his last name. Many
people have asked what my mother thought of the name change and she asked me in characteristic Ma fashion, "Do you like any damn thing I
gave you?" Oh, so typical.
 
     I then moved up to a New York agency and did some touring as an exotic dancer on the side. Talk about a truly interesting collection of
people that you run into while dancing. I met incredibly powerful women using every ability at their disposable to educate themselves and put
their children through school and then men who used their bodies as a weapon to entice fans to feed their fragile egos and their devastating
drug habits. It was not a world that I visited long.
 
     Since getting certified as a trainer in 1993, I've had the incredible luck of meeting some amazing people that have helped mold and influence
me as a person, and I'm extremely fortunate to have had some of the greatest friends and very close knit family that have surrounded me during
the highs and lows of life. I consider myself to be very blessed to be doing something that I love and I get great satisfaction out of helping others
achieve their goals and dreams. I've truly had some of the greatest clients that a trainer could ask for and we learn a great deal from each other.
They learn beneficial information regarding their health, fitness, and nutrition and they also learn not to irritate me. Otherwise, they will get stuck
dropping to the floor and giving me 25. Hey, sadism with a smile. I aim to please!
 
     So, here we are now 10 years later in 2003. Now living in the paradise known as California and meeting so many more amazing people.
Everyday is turning into a new treat and adventure. This year will see not only changes within myself and my business, but also the relocation of 
many of my friends and family from the east coast and Midwest that are all following me out to the left coast. I haven't left home. I've reestab-
lished it.

 

     Having had a great support system of family and friends made the transition to adulthood an easy one, but the childhood journey was not al-   
ways as smooth going. With my mom and I moving around so much when I was a child (on the move from an abusive husband) I became
very accustomed to starting a new school, making new friends and then abruptly leaving after only a short time there. We moved so many times
during my life that I seriously cannot count the amount of times that we relocated. I can count on one hand the amount of friends' names that I re-
member when growing up but yet have no idea what city they were/are in. I vividly remember my mother sheltering me from alot of the fighting,
but try as you might, you can't hide it all from a child. Being the 70's, domestic violence was not something that was acceptable, but it was certain-
ly not in the forefront of discussion the way that it has become in today's day and age. My mother was, in her younger days, quite the hellraiser. I
do remember the moment when she fought back and broke a glass ashtray over my stepfather's head. That was the beginning of her indepen-
dence and the beginning of a child's new found respect for his mother.
 
(Left) "Little Pat", before the name change.1972  (Right) Mom and I, in one of the few pictures taken together during my childhood, at the age of 4.
1974. Dig that funky beehive!

 
     Although raised as an only child, I was actually the oldest of 6 children that my mother was not able to carry full term. We've talked many times
about what the possibilities would've been, but considering the life the two of us led, I can see in adulthood that it was for the best. My mother
worked 3 jobs at one point to make sure I had clothes on my back, presents under the tree, and food in my stomach. We talked just recently
about a time at breakfast when we had cereal (Fruity Pebbles) but no milk. I ended up eating my cereal with water. I can tell you firsthand that
Fred Flintstone does not taste good with water.
     I remember a moment where ,at age 6, that I was actually a child in the house with very adult responsibilities. I was a latchkey kid who came
home after school, locked the doors, got a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for a snack, watched "I Love Lucy" and "Batman" at 4pm and 4:30
respectively then did chores followed by homework.
     I remember vividly a time where I was going to make mom a snack when she returned home from work. To make the peanut butter melt more
efficiently on the toast, I decided to put the peanut butter on the bread and then toss it in the toaster. Of course, disaster ensued and the bread
got stuck. Fearing that I was gonna get a hell of a talkin' to when Mom came home, I decided to attempt to wiggle the bread out of the toaster with
a butter knife so she'd never be the wiser. Needless to say, instead of getting a hell of a talkin' to, I got a hell of a zap. Amazing that I ended up on
the high honors throughout school, huh?
     As she reminds me repeatedly into my 30's, that was the beginning of a really rotten ability to boil water. With a sense of humor like that, I'm
just waiting for the first sign of dribble on her chin so I can put her away...er, I mean, have her come and live with me.
     Ahem. I love my Mama.

 
     Seeing alcohol and drugs in my family was a learning experience, as it would be for any child. However, my lessons were not entirely learned
until the moment I let an addict into my life.
     As someone who works in the health and fitness field, I appreciate the work that goes into making oneself healthy, and that definitely includes
recovery.
     Having never been a drinker or a drug user myself is a personal choice and I do find it important not to judge my friends that engage in it as long
as they respect my wishes that they not come tweaking around me. For those friends still nursing the second ass ripped into them for performing
such a silly stunt, let's just say 'No hard feelings.' I've found the reasoning for such behavior to be both educational and sad (for some) but it's a
journey that we all must take.
     My own mistake was to fall into a similar trap that my mother did. And I learned, after a bitter 3 years of depression and torment, that just be-
cause one is in recovery does not mean that the behaviors of the addict are gone or healed. I let a toxic individual in and learned a hard lesson.
The benefits of that lesson became happiness and acceptance that I allowed to be drained from myself because of the toxicity. I learned to
appreciate my own company and know that I'm a much more powerful person for going down this particular path.
     If you take nothing else from this site, take what I learned from dealing with a particular individual...
     1. You are not responsible for the dysfunctions for another human being. They are responsible for theirs, regardless of what their parents did to
          them or continue to do. If you're dealing with adults, act like it.
     2. There's a reason why humans have gut instinct. Listen to it.
     3. Letting a toxic personality in your circle is not a flaw unless you learn nothing from it. Wash your hands of the individual, wish them the
          happiness that has eluded them and grasp that golden ring for yourself...regardless of who you have to bitchslap to get it.
     4. Remember that saying 'No' is not a flaw in your character. It can be something as simple as self preservation.

 
     I have found that in life happiness is not a right, it's always been a privilege. Yes, it's difficult to walk around looking like a grinning idiot who was   
just invaded by the pods, but there's something to be said a about your outlook on life and the ability to be open and honest with your family and
friends. Opening up and comparing notes with those that suffered through sexual abuse as children, it's easy to see why so many people have
distorted views of love, happiness, and themselves. The openness that I experienced with family members and friends on this topic was not
something that surprised me as we became adults, because even though many lost their innocence in the most horrendous of ways, the honesty
allowed all involved to own their past and face a very bright future. As far as I'm concerned, that is the ultimate step for happiness and true health.
 
 
 
(Above) Here are the two pride and joys (and biggest spoiled brats) of my life. Alexis, the fawn colored chow is (at the time of this writing) 10
years old and is the obstinate one of the house. As you can tell from the picture of me holding her, she's really not all that impressed with me.
Maximillian, the blue chow, is 2 years old and is the rambunctious one in the house with a severe case of Attention Deficit Disorder. He's brought
the term 'selective hearing' to a whole new level. With Ali being the oldest, she rules the house and with Maxim being the baby, he runs a dis-
tant second. With me being a mere human, I'm never allowed near the finish line and I've come to accept my role in the house as the Poop Picker-
Upper and attention giver when they want it. Y'know, I suppose I would dish attitude if I could lick myself, too. :)

 
     When growing up and going to church every Sunday, I discovered a tremendous amount of hypocrisy that I found very difficult to stomach. My  
stepfather drove the church bus, led prayer services and by all accounts and purposes was a model churchgoer. However, upon returning home,
the fighting would start, the drinking would begin and as I got older I discovered more behavior that was unbecoming for someone who hid behind
the almighty word of God. And although I believe that there is a higher power, as I got older I learned what spirituality means. It was something that
was never taught to me.
     Growing up, I found some family members hiding behind the word of God as a way of bigotry, racism, homophobia, and casting judgement on
others for their differences.
     After dealing with the disillusions of religion that were dealt to me as a youngster, here I am in my early 30's and a practicing Buddhist. Although
Buddhism is a religion, I've found it to be more of a way of thought and direction and learning the path of happiness as opposed to being told the
direction to take. As with any true, accepting religion that higher power does not cast a judgement down as a punishment for those that don't adhere
to the conventional way of thinking or lifestyle. Your spirit is, in its own way, a higher power.

 
     Ah, yes...sex and relationships. Dumping someone when the sex is bad is easy, but how do you dump someone when the sex is good? After
3 or 4 more dates, well y'know, just to make sure, isn't easy. There is something very true about the old saying that sex is so much better when it's
with someone that you're in love with. Whether it's boy/girl, boy/boy, girl/girl or boy/boy/boy/girl/girl/girl/boygirl, go out and have fun provided you
are adult enough to make those decisions. Although many friends do it and I respect their decisions, I'm not a believer in open relationships or "play-
ing together" for myself and my intimate relationship. Also, having never been a serial dater, I never had much use for multiple partners and the
troubles that can cause or the one night stands (although, of course, they've happened) and that very annoying question in the morning of "Uh, what
did you say your name was again?" My inability to remember things that happened in the past 12 hours is pretty much a cure-all for that situation. :)

 
     Fitness is more than just the physical...it's very much a state of mind. Ultimate fitness encompasses the mental, physical, sexual well-being and so
much more. I've learned for myself over the years that working out should not just be a stress buster, but something that you should enjoy as some-
thing that you can give to yourself. Although good fitness can improve your mood in dealing with others, working out for the approval of others
can set you up for a harsh downfall.
     A friend of mine told me about a story regarding his first encounter with a transsexual and I think the answer he got from her fits my view regarding
fitness. When asked what her family thought about her appearance, she responded very sharply "Honey, I call it dealing with life with the three 'F's...If
you ain't financing, feeding, or fucking me, I don't give a shit what you think!"
     I'd say that fits.