I have been thinking about you a lot lately.

There’s obviously quite a bit of speculation going on as to what the hell really happened with you and your buddies down in Rio.

Whether you just embellished a story or you twisted some of the facts or the whole thing was bullshit from beginning to end, at this point I don’t think it really matters.

You fucked up.

At first I was really disappointed. Then I was kind of angry.

And then disappointed some more.

But then I happened to randomly turn on the Today Show the other day and I saw Natalie Morales, Billy Bush and Al Roker talking about you.

Billy Bush was kind of defending you.

But Al and Natalie were totally skewering you.

And then I got more pissed.

At them.

Because like I said before, nobody really knows what actually happened. And now you’ve told a couple of lies so nobody knows what the hell to believe.

Al and Natalie were not cutting you one bit of slack. They were ruthless.

I don’t know all the details of the story because they don’t really matter to me seeing as nobody knows what the actual truth is. I don’t know the names of the other guys who were involved in the whole thing either. I don’t know if you fucked them over or if you were all in it together. I don’t know how old they are, but of course we all know how old you are since your birthday was during the Olympics and everyone made kind of a big deal about your age.

But I do know there have been comments from your defenders referring to you guys as kids.

And then there are the people who are like He’s 32. He’s far from a kid.

They are right .

You’re not a kid anymore.

I’m  a month away from my 47th birthday. I’m definitely not a kid.

But the more I thought about Al Roker raking you over the coals, the more pissed I got.

Because I was seriously fucked up when I was 32.

I had no idea what the hell I was doing.

And now, fifteen years later, sometimes I still don’t know what I’m doing.

I still do and say things I wish I hadn’t done.

But fifteen years ago, hell, ten, even seven years ago I was still a fucking disaster.

I’ve done plenty of stupid shit in my life.

And between the ages of  30 and 35 I did some of the most stupid shit I’ve ever done.

Actually, between the ages of 35 and 40 I did some even more stupid shit.

I was just getting started when I was 32.

I know, I’m not famous.

I don’t have a bazillion little swimmers looking up to me and saying, Someday I want to be like Ryan Lochte.

And to be honest, I did make a comment on Twitter about how maybe some of that stuff you used to bleach your hair might have seeped through your skull and killed off whatever common sense you had left in your head.

But people could have said the same thing about me at many many times during my life. (Except I’m a natural blond and the shit that fucked up my brain came more in the form of smoke).

But anyway, my point is that we all fuck up.

And I don’t really believe for a second that Natalie Morales or Al Roker haven’t had a pretty big fuck up at some point in their lives.

Even after they were 30.

And if they have, well good for them.

But I know I sure have.

And what I also know is that I have no idea what is going on between your ears.

I have no idea what you’ve gone through leading up to whatever the hell went down in Rio.

Maybe nothing.

Maybe you had the perfect childhood and your parents are awesome and you never experienced hardship and you are just a really talented and good looking guy who’s a total dick.

But maybe not.

And that maybe not part is the part I’m stuck on.

We don’t know.

Look at Michael Phelps!

He fucked up pretty badly.

A couple times.

There were plenty of people who were disappointed in him.

And now after seeing the interviews with him leading up to Rio, we all know he had a whole bunch of crap that he hadn’t dealt with and it was manifesting itself in some pretty destructive ways.

So I’ve still got hope for you.

We don’t know what your story is.

But I’m hoping that you’ve got some unresolved shit to deal with or maybe fame fucked with you and you temporarily lost your way. 

And I’m hoping this is the proverbial conflict part of your story.

The problem.

The low.

The rock bottom.

I’m hoping there is shit you need to deal with and this is your wake up call. And that you answer the call.

Because the true character of a person doesn’t lie in the mistakes they make, but rather in how they deal with life once they’ve made those mistakes.

And I just wanted you to know that.

After thinking about it, I’m not angry. I’m not disappointed.

I feel bad for you. Unless you are a complete and total sociopath, you must feel like an asshole right now.

And you may have been continuing to dig a hole for yourself that is now even harder to get out of.

I know what it feels like to have fucked up pretty badly. I know what it’s like to get caught in a lie.

I know how lies can snowball and then you are so fucked you don’t know what the hell to do.

Luckily, unlike you, I didn’t fuck up  in front of the whole entire world.

So I’m cheering for you to find your way. Your resolution.

And as a former swimmer and as a mother with five children on the swim team, I’m not cutting you slack because you are a white. And a dude. And an Olympian.

I’m cutting you some slack because I want to teach my kids that we all make mistakes. Sometimes we make some really big ones.

And I’m cutting you some slack because you are human.

 

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