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<figure id="figure-4nehvz8zfamllm9wva"><img id="4nehvz8zfamllm9wva" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3a24rGWJl97pHY3M3MmuelIfNWRne1PL72jElfXOpU7tsEURScMeVSDefaqVR1IW.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: 70% 0%;" data-corners="large" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionx="70%" data-positiony="0%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/3a24rGWJl97pHY3M3MmuelIfNWRne1PL72jElfXOpU7tsEURScMeVSDefaqVR1IW.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: 70% 0%;"></figure>The picture above is just a small group of us, and as you can tell I am the best looking. It's a burden I have to carry with me, but I live with it.&nbsp;As mushy as the last post was, this part is just as crucial as having Myles and Wonki. I want to be very clear - I understand everybody has a different&nbsp; situation and I do not take that lightly. I am very blessed to have a large percentage in my family still involed with each other.&nbsp;So this next post, is dedicated to the family.&nbsp;Growing up there was always one thing you can count on. A small gathering for my moms side of the family was a minimum of 50 people. Shoutout to my grandparents for having the foresight, but in the grand scheme of things, logistically speaking, having such a massive family is a nightmare. But with that logistical nightmare comes with your uncle promising to build a tree house in that mango tree that never got done, or your mom some how managing to miss the mango tree and rock your cousin on the head with that heavy ass garden rakes. After a quick Google search it's called a "lawn thatch rake." My personal favorite was taking what felt like 24 people in a 7 passenger van all the way from the buttcrack of Miami down to Texas and not in Miami weather and&nbsp; having to eat cereal with frozen milk in the middle of Louisana.&nbsp;All this back story to give a glimpse of the wild shit that has gone down with my family and that's just surface level.&nbsp;Here's the day, at 32 I have to call my parents about what went down. Then eventually, little by little having to have all the conversations with all the cousins, then the aunts. Imagine having 19 first cousins, five aunts and two uncles and having to repeat the same story. At first you get emotional, and by the 45th time telling the same story you get numb to it. BUT it's very important to know that, as much as I hated having to repeat the same story over and over and over and over and over again. I vidily remember being with about five or six of my female cousins, and them talking about "what the f*ck" in their own way of saying it. As different as their responses were, one thing stayed constant, if I needed support or help in anyway they were there to let me vent and I'm pretty sure one of them said they were ready to throw hands. The Guim's don't play and they low-key scare the shit of me, but I digress.&nbsp;After multiple conversations with so many different cousins, they just let me talk shit, it helped in ways that they won't understand. It doesn't have to be the general "you're going to be alright, just give it time" speech. You come to a point where you begin understanding that going through this season in your life is lonley and having those people who will let you just fly off the handles and just listen is a huge relief.&nbsp;I'm aware that many people don't have this luxury. You might feel embarassed to talk about it and there will be a moment where you feel like a massive loser. Trust me, when I tell you, you're not. You're someone who loved the f*ck out of his family and you are lost. I played every single scenario, every correction I could have made, every little tiny detail but playing everything in hopes that the outtcome changes to what I wanted, and thought was needed was unrealistic.&nbsp;In all honesty, this is probably the best situation I could have found myself in right now. Life is progessing, we're moving forward and we're growing. As much as it hurt to have to go through this, it was necessary and having this ground support made it easy to help navigate. Had this not happened, I wouldn't be here giving support to those who need it. Those dudes who are lost, those dudes who are close to calling it quits. I am not claiming to have all the answers, nor am I claiming to be the only person to deal with the sort of heart break but t's important that you take what you can of my story, and try to use it and learn from it.&nbsp;I'm just a regular dude going through shit just trying to make it too.&nbsp;You'll get to where you need to be, and if you don't have the luxury of having close family or close friends, message me, reach out through social media or whatever. I'm glad to be here to support you brother in whatever capcity I can.&nbsp;

Building a Support Group Part II

I've heard this saying before in spanish, but I'll do my best to get this in English, but essentially it goes "Show me your friends, and I'll show you your future," Or for the Joey Diaz fan, "you don't need 20 friends, all just need is 3 bad motherf*ckers and you can take over a country"This has been the most crucial part of my journey, and by the grace of God I was blessed with some killas.&nbsp;&nbsp;I know for a fact once they read this, they're going to give me shit about not wanting any credit because that's what friends do. But what these two dingbats did for me, there's no way I can express how truly grateful or even repay what they've done for me. Not emotionally, not anything but be there when I was down at my worst.&nbsp;Let's start with Myles, we have been friends going on what feels like 50 years. Friends since 15, we have been through EVERY major life event together. Break-ups, child birth, marriage, even get trashed one Halloween (follow the podcast for more crazy stories like that) and now this chapter of my life.&nbsp;The day came where I had to break the news to everybody that this was the situation in my life now, and I'll never forget driving Southbound on I-75 and getting off the exit. I call him absolutely bawling, an uncontrollable sob, that as&nbsp; I'm trying to speak, I'm gasping for breath trying to make a full sentence, he was like "dude, what the f*ck is going on?" He thought somebody was dead, in that, all I was able to get out was "we're getting a divorce." He didn't even hesitate, and all he told me "give me 45 minutes." And true to his word, within the hour, he was knocking at my door.&nbsp;Now on to Wonki, again same thing - friends since about Junior year of high school, when this asshole came to school with an unfinished turbo in his 2008 Civic Si and breaking his brothers bed when visting his mom's crib - sorry Cabezas family.Similar story to Myles, only life took him out of town for a couple of years, and I wouldn't necessarily say we fell off, but as close as we were, we went off to do our own thing for some time. He called me one day, close to around the time I had told Myles and was excited that his firm was hiring and he wanted me to apply. I unfortunately had to break the news to him and let him know that, this is the situation and again, didn't hesitate one single bit. All I remember him saying was "f*ck, I'm tied up now but tomorrow let's go out for dinner" at Miami's most luxurious establishment - Flanigan's - (shameless plug).Now I go on to tell you these stories because without any sort of thought, they were there and just let me talk. No rush to judgement, no opinions, no expectations, just let me go through it. Grieve how I needed to grieve, and slowly this started to build and fortify our bond. For a long time, I felt guilty even coming to them for help. I'm not that much of an asshole - but I had to be realistic, they have their families, and having toddlers to then having to now deal with this shit, it was unfair to me to ask them for anything from them.&nbsp;But the fact that they said "nah, f*ck that" and were just there showed me everything I needed to know. Just because we're not blood, doesn't mean that we're not family. They have stood by me and supported me on the days where I didn't have it within my self to push forward. Now I look forward to our group chat just being full of shenanigans and being able to be myself.&nbsp;I know it seems like I'm rambling, but had you laughed, or did that think where you type LOL but just snort at your phone, the only thing that I ask that you&nbsp; take from this is to understand that, being able to navigate this with true friends on your side, is a blessing and is hard to come by. Because of this foundation that has been set, I am now Tio Feo (Ugly Uncle for the non-Spanish speakers) and Titi Way (Titi Dre) and I am forever indebted into these assholes.So this is dedicated to you, Wonki &amp; Myles.&nbsp;Thank you,&nbsp;<figure id="figure-porf4edi3ml61b1jw"><img id="porf4edi3ml61b1jw" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1unxoDuj9REuX3ZrOzwiFz5sdoMTy6FOSnog4tzTeWRYbwrbnFekmmTU1Cag2BIx.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-lg md:rounded-xl lg:rounded-2xl" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1unxoDuj9REuX3ZrOzwiFz5sdoMTy6FOSnog4tzTeWRYbwrbnFekmmTU1Cag2BIx.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>

Building a Support Group

As the title suggests, here I am.If my memory serves me correctly, I started the idea of Last November, heading into early 2025. This was right around the time my podcast co-host—my brother, confidant, and my daughter’s godfather—and I came up with the idea for our podcast, Just Dads.To say 2025 was an interesting year would be a severe understatement. I went through every peak and valley of emotion: therapy sessions, cigar and bourbon sessions, family time, and everything in between.September is always an interesting month for me; school is back in full swing and it’s my birthday month, but this year specifically was a little "upside down." My now ex-wife and I officially filed for divorce. As much as I tried to flex that I wasn't affected, my outlook on life showed the complete opposite. I was on the up-and-up and suddenly fell back into a deep depression—to the point where it began affecting my work, and it was extremely noticeable. Sure, I tried my best to power through it and "move on," but the point is: it sucked.Eventually, I gave in. I ran out of options; I couldn't run from anything anymore. All else had failed. So, like any sensible person, I turned to faith. Looking back now, I was so tossed around in a washing machine of emotions that faith should have been the first thing I reached for—but we live, we learn, and we move forward with that experience.Now, I’m not trying to be a hardcore "Bible thumper," claiming to be reborn and shoving it down people’s throats. I grew up in a Baptist church and attended private school—Monday through Friday and every Sunday, I was at church. We used to live in North Miami and the church was in Miami Lakes; for the locals, you know that isn’t a short drive. As I got older and wanted to experience a Sunday without church, I looked forward to it, and eventually, that became my norm.Full circle many years later: I am now attending the very church I used to be forced to go to every week. I remember the first full service I attended by myself. I remember listening to the worship music and just starting to cry. Not one of those "ugly cries," but one of those nonchalant "thug cries." I felt like I finally found the peace I needed to quiet the noise of my situation.Here I am, a few months removed from that moment. I attend church every other week when my daughter is with her mother, and the progress my life has made since has been astronomical. Can I say that I’m fully "happy" or back to normal? I can't truly say I’m 100% yet, but I can stand "ten toes down" and confidently say that I have never been so excited to look ahead at where my life is going.As I write this, I can't fully express how excited I am to officially get this off the ground. I have the next couple of social media posts ready to begin building the brand and truly offering support for those in need. Anybody can make a website or offer support—and I’m grateful for those who do—but unless you have lived this situation, you can't understand how hard it is. Had I known better or corrected my mistakes sooner, none of this would be here.So, if you’re new here—new to single fatherhood—trust me when I tell you: it’s going to suck. It’s going to look like it’s never going to get better. But as someone who is living it with you:IT IS GOING TO GET BETTER.<figure id="figure-jndenqmpoamkufvu9p"><img id="jndenqmpoamkufvu9p" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/34xTvEjU0amKLas0q0HbKFbHSUKJvJBX0XmgLts9w4u6Z6NXuc6oG8NyvnJCaIzx.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-lg md:rounded-xl lg:rounded-2xl" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: 50% 25%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="My #1" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="25%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/34xTvEjU0amKLas0q0HbKFbHSUKJvJBX0XmgLts9w4u6Z6NXuc6oG8NyvnJCaIzx.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: 50% 25%;"><figcaption class="body-normal text-gray-500 mt-2">My #1</figcaption></figure>

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Last November is a community and resource hub for informational and peer-support purposes only. We are not licensed therapists, medical professionals, or financial advisors. Our content is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment

Last November

Last November is a transitional lifestyle brand and resource hub dedicated to the "New Era" father. It serves men navigating the shift from marriage to single fatherhood, specifically those who are committed to being present parents but feel socially or emotionally displaced. It is a brand rooted in resilience, modern fatherhood, and holistic rebuilding.