Greg Scaduto
gregscaduto.bsky.social
Greg Scaduto
@gregscaduto.bsky.social
Writer tracing the quiet courage, dignity, flaws and love in all of us. Husband, father of two, and US Army veteran. Published in U.S. News & World Report. I have a sitcom pilot I’d love to share.

Writing regularly on Substack: gregscaduto.substack.com
Wow you spared this person the six-month Ayn Rand phase every earnest 19-year-old has before they discover feelings
November 20, 2025 at 5:05 PM
Sex is included within the broader business justification I identified
November 19, 2025 at 8:21 PM
The answer seems fairly obvious: Humanoid robots can use the world as it already exists.
November 19, 2025 at 7:31 PM
Correct, no danger from her, or quite frankly any young lady. It was an awkward phase of my life and I lacked the confidence to approach women during those accidental moments of sobriety.
November 19, 2025 at 4:40 PM
Had to look her up because I want you to think I’m an exacting reader of the zeitgeist. I graduated in 2012 so we were definitely there at the same time. Seems like she has an affinity for the humanities and older, powerful men, which (to be fair) places her in the mainstream cohort at Fordham.
November 19, 2025 at 4:34 PM
Please do not use sex words like that on my page. Thanks.
November 19, 2025 at 4:22 PM
I was dead serious. Thanks again. Sorry I went to Fordham.
November 19, 2025 at 4:05 PM
Would you mind rephrasing that in a way that would be actionable for someone like your father, or someone who has never used social media? I’m a strong intuitive though, and I want to do whatever you’re recommending. I can feel it.
November 19, 2025 at 3:57 PM
I just joined yesterday and the gulf between X and Bluesky in users’ good faith and cognitive horsepower has me falling off my chair.
November 19, 2025 at 3:47 PM
Thank you for your kindness - I was aware of the archive in concept, but I thought you had to be a nerd to know how to use it
November 19, 2025 at 2:57 PM
Is it possible to post a gift link? Sorry, I’m not very liquid right now. Thank you ma’am.
November 19, 2025 at 2:23 PM
I’ve been familiar with your work since I was 15 because I’d wanted to be an FBI agent since I first watched Donnie Brasco at age 10. I’m now 35 and have overcome the existential unraveling described in the essay. It’s a shame they select only for sociopaths and Mormons, and nothing in between.
November 19, 2025 at 1:31 PM
Love to hear this!
November 19, 2025 at 12:32 PM
Maybe the most radical act of love is to look across the dinner table and say:

I see what you carry. And I won’t pretend it’s weightless.
November 19, 2025 at 10:05 AM
But they do hurt us. They drain marriages of their tenderness and leave people feeling alone inside the very relationships that were meant to be their refuge.
November 19, 2025 at 10:04 AM
Modern life tells us to pretend these pressures don’t exist. We make jokes about them; dismiss them as weakness; pass them on to our kids, as if refusing to name the wound could keep it from bleeding.
November 19, 2025 at 10:04 AM
These forces aren’t symmetrical and they’re not competing tragedies. They’re parallel stories of exhaustion – two quiet forms of attrition that leave both partners feeling unseen in different ways.
November 19, 2025 at 10:04 AM
For men, there is an equally invisible burden: the unspoken demand to be endlessly successful, tirelessly competent, unwaveringly strong. To be a provider of both security and solace, and to look “fine” while quietly breaking.
November 19, 2025 at 10:03 AM
These acts are so constant, so seamlessly woven into family life, that they disappear. They’re treated as nothing at all – until they stop, and everything collapses.
November 19, 2025 at 10:03 AM
For women, it’s the steady erosion of the self by a thousand small obligations: the dinners planned, the birthday cards remembered, the invisible scaffolding that holds up the lives of others.
November 19, 2025 at 10:02 AM