Where were you in 1988?
Some of you weren’t even born yet.
Some of you were babies.
Some of you were blasting music with the windows down, thinking the world was wide open.
I was in Hollywood.
It felt electric. Dangerous in its own way. Wild. Creative. Reckless. Alive.
We didn’t carry the world in our pockets. We didn’t wake up to headlines designed to shock our nervous systems before coffee.
We lived in moments.
And yes, the world has always had darkness. It always will. But something has shifted. The noise is louder now. The fear cycles are constant. The media feels like it feeds on chaos.
So here’s my question for you:
When did you feel most alive?
If you weren’t here in 1988 — what era feels like yours? What kind of world do you want to create in your own story?
Because memoir isn’t about the headlines.
It’s about the human heart inside the era.
Hollywood 1988 was a season of my becoming.
What season are you in?