I started Leemanism on April 1st, 2006 – April Fools, but really, I honestly didn’t realize it at the time. Cindy and I had finally broken up barely two weeks prior in March. We dated from December 2004 to March 2006 – though in hindsight, we probably shouldn’t have dated at all. We would’ve made excellent friends with benefits, but clarity loves hindsight.
In those early days, Leemanism became a sanctuary for my thoughts. It was where I could speak freely, and for a time, friends near and far tuned in – laughing with me, reflecting with me. But over the years, people disappeared into their own lives. Not because they stopped caring, I think, but because of a misalignment of intent. The silence between people becomes loud when we don’t tend to it.
Take Ben Waters, for example. I loved that man. When he left for Australia, my depression hit like a freight train. I wanted him to know I still cared, that I was still here. But my mind propped up by misplaced pride, the attention of women, and a constant disillusionment with society, twisted that need into silence. I distanced myself from the people who meant the most.
I thought that shared history would be enough. That my friends would just know – that no matter the time or silence, we’d still be anchored in our bond. But I learned the hard way: history is not a tether unless you keep tying the rope. My silence wasn’t stoicism. It was miscommunication. And in that silence, some assumed I had quietly rejected them.
If I could do it again, I would’ve told Ben everything. How I was struggling. How I cared. That I would still reach out, even just once a week. But it wasn’t about how often. It was about how sincere I should have been.
I used to have over 600 posts on this blog. And for a while, I kept trying to turn them into something coherent – self-help guides, visual timelines, bite-sized wisdom. Amber, Kari, and others gave their input. But no matter what I did, it never felt fulfilling.
Maybe because I spent most of my adult life quelling drama, not confronting it. I wasn’t a pushover, but I constantly made peace for people who had no interest in maintaining it themselves. I carried emotional burdens – not just my own, but those of others. Strangers. Friends. People who saw something in me and handed over their stories, their pain, their hunger.
It was heavy.
So I’m doing something different now.
I’m honouring the old posts.
I will create a few tributes for the ones who mattered.
And then, I will be done with them – not because I don’t care, but because closure matters more than nostalgia. Their stories will remain where they belong: in time, not in loops.
As part of this transition, I’ll be carrying over the original comments from those old posts into their respective tributes – not to resurrect the past, but to preserve the dialogue that once lived here. They serve as echoes of a time when these pages were alive with conversation, laughter, and sometimes grief. A reminder that I wasn’t always writing into the void.
This blog isn’t Justin’s Links.net, though I respect that archive of pure legacy. I was 15 in 1994. I’m 46 in 2025. Leemanism turns 19 this year. And truth be told? It’s a bit wonky. But it’s mine.
So thank you for visiting.
Welcome to the new Leemanism.
