We’re coming up on four years since I walked away from a job that drained the life out of me. Honestly? I still don’t miss it. Not even a little.

Since July 2021, I haven’t worked a traditional 9-to-5. And aside from six months of unemployment, I’ve mostly been dependent on my incredibly hardworking wife, Heather. (Thank you, Universe, for her.)

Over 50 and out of work? Yeah, that’s a tough combination. It often feels like the world politely, or not-so-politely, closes the door in your face. At least the US government kinda came to my rescue. (Unless the very conservative state that I live in finds a way to revoke it.)

Disclaimer:  This post is a little off-topic from my usual TTRPG musings, but it’s an important reflection I felt like sharing.

Disclaimer: Statements expressed in this article are strictly my opinion. If you disagree or have a different opinion, that’s okay. I’m not an expert on everything. I’m not always right. I’m just writing from my experience as I know it. Your mileage may vary.

Back in my day…

Yup, sent all my kids running for cover. Here it comes. LOL!

I grew up in a time before the conveniences we all enjoy today. We drank from garden hoses, played in every kind of weather, and typed essays on actual typewriters. There’s a kind of strength forged in those analog days that’s easy to underestimate.

Between TTRPG social media and YouTube these days…

I don’t know exactly why I got canned from my last job: age, attitude, mental health, some mix of all the above. But honestly? I don’t really care anymore. I’m not bitter. Just… exhausted from playing a game that feels rigged.

And yeah, I signed a whole bunch of NDAs at (company) not to talk about them or their industry. So I’m still cautious about what I say publicly. I suspect some HR crawler or shadowy bot is keeping tabs, making sure I don’t say anything that’d get me sued or flagged.

Which brings me back to where I’ve put my energy these last few years: the TTRPG hobby. It’s a space I want to love. But sometimes, it feels like the “community” is less a community and more a sprawling mess of disconnected cliques.

The CRiT Awards Reflection

Might look like this guy only more cartoony.

Take the CRiT Awards. They speak a lot about inclusion and diversity, which I support wholeheartedly. (Not that I seem to ever get seen as such due to outward appearances.) But as someone who’s been blogging regularly about TTRPGs since 2022, I’ve never once felt seen by that circle. Not once.

I get that I’m not their target demographic. I’m an older white guy with a beard talking about non-Dungeons & Dragons or non-Daggerheart TTRPGs. But when inclusion feels like it excludes people like me, it’s hard not to notice.

I’m not mad. (Okay, maybe a little but that’s a topic for another time.) I’m mostly just wondering what it takes to get noticed in this space if you’re not already part of the “in” crowd. I don’t want an award, but it sure would be nice to get noticed for something positive. It’s kinda like working for a boss on a “team” that never notices anything you do.

This Isn’t About Awards

This isn’t sour grapes about an award. It’s a gut-check moment. A reminder that despite all the hashtags and mission statements, the TTRPG scene, like so many scenes, is fragmented. I’m not going to talk about virtue signalling. This isn’t political or religious, either. But by golly if you say you believe in diversity and inclusion, kindly be prepared to back it up.

It’s also not based on greed.

And no, before anyone says it: this isn’t about chasing dollars. Would I like to be earning money from my blog or YouTube channel? Of course. I’d love for my creative efforts to support my family and help upgrade my gear. That’s not a crime, and it’s not grifting. But truthfully? If I were in this just for the money, I’d have quit already. (Like yesterday.)

The sad reality is a lot of folks in the online TTRPG scene are chasing clout, sponsors, and sweet ad revenue. That’s fine. No judgment. But it’s not my path.

I create because I love the hobby. I share because I want to connect with like-minded players, Game Masters, and dreamers. If I ever land a sponsor, awesome. But I’m not building my content around that. I’m building it around heart, hope, and honesty.

I would like to talk for a moment about something that’s been weighing on me.

I’m not a well-known DungeonTuber (yet.) My YouTube channel is growing, but slowly. Really slowly. As we have discussed before, it’s not lost on me that the deck sometimes feels stacked against old white guys with neck-length beards. That’s not self-pity. It’s just something I’ve noticed. There’s a certain demographic that soars in the TTRPG YouTube space, and it has a lot to do with Dungeons & Dragons (or Daggerheart these days,) as well as a certain age, gender, political worldview, etc.

Community, huh?

This whole idea of a “TTRPG community” seems more like a disconnected jumble of competing subgroups and niche cliques rather than a shared table especially on YouTube/social media. Everyone wants to be king of their own tiny hill, and not many people are looking to welcome others into their kingdom. Even the people who say they’re being inclusive maybe need to check themselves at times.

Here’s the thing that gets me. The YouTube gurus, who I still check in with from time to time, always preach about “building a community,” or “finding your audience.” In the spiritual space, we used to call it “finding your tribe.” I’ll be honest with you: the people I’ve found so far in the TTRPG space, with a few heartfelt exceptions, don’t seem very tribal (toward me.) And frankly, it’s not very welcoming either.

Still, I’m not giving up. Because somewhere, there’s a space where my voice matters. Where my weird blend of humor, personal history, and heartfelt takes actually connects. I plan to find it, or build it myself.

Hey, if you’re an older gamer, a scrappy dreamer, or just someone looking for honest-to-goodness joy in the TTRPG hobby, pull up a chair. There’s room at my table.

I still believe. I believe there’s a corner of this vast hobby for voices like mine. And if there’s not? Then maybe I just need to keep carving one out. That’s what we old-school gamers do, after all; we build things ourselves when no one hands it to us.

Thanks again for listening on tough days like this one. And thank you to my silent partner and editor for always being here to help.

Thank you for being here with me today. I appreciate you. Keep it real, but please strive for positivity, too. Please embrace the things that bring you the most joy in your life.