3 Strangers Taught Me How to Be Loved — And Still Live, Even When I Almost Broke Down

I used to think happiness was something you bought—like a slot machine with flashing lights and fake promises. I’d spend my last $80 on a game that never paid off.

Then, on a rainy Tuesday, I sat alone at the D train stop in Brooklyn. A woman in a faded red coat handed me a coffee—no words, just eyes—and said, ‘You don’t have to be happy to be enough.’

I didn’t cry. But for the first time in years, I let it sink in.

Vulnerability isn’t weak. It’s the most honest bet you can make.

In this city of noise and neon signs, we’re taught to perform joy—to smile through gritted teeth and pretend we’ve got it all figured out.

But real connection? It doesn’t come from reels or bonuses. It comes from silence between strangers who know what it means to feel seen.

I started tracking my emotions like RTP—a 95% return rate on human dignity.

Every spin isn’t meant to win big money. It’s meant to remind you: you’re still here. And that’s enough.

Join me tonight at Midnight Radio—where we don’t sell hope. We just share it.