Patrick Lomantini — Author of The First Lie I Ever Told
The First Lie I Ever Told
I spent most of my life inside versions of myself that worked just well enough.
This is what happened when I stopped.
Get your copy here first. Audible will follow.
What this season holds.
Writing the next book. The first one taught me how to sit still long enough to tell the truth. The second is asking better questions.
Speaking, when the room is right. Building KYLI from what I learned on the way down and on the way back. Still doing the work that taught me to listen.
Living in Franklin, Tennessee. Walking outside more than I used to. Watching for the patterns I once mistook for personality. Grateful, in a way I could not have faked a few years ago.
Not a timeline. A sequence.
The early adjustments
I learned young that being seen the right way kept things calm. I made the small edits a child makes to stay loved. I did not know I was doing it. That is how it works.
The personas
By the time I was an adult I had three or four working selves. Each one had a job. Each one was good at it. None of them were me, but they all answered to my name.
The success
It worked. The numbers were real. The rooms were real. The people calling me were real. The man they were calling was a composite. I kept building on a foundation I had never inspected.
The collapse
When the structure went, it went all at once. Money. Marriage. Standing. The personas could not hold the weight without the scaffolding underneath them. Neither could I.
Prison
Inside, the noise stopped. There was nothing left to perform for, and no one paying for the performance. I read. I wrote in the margins of paperbacks. I started to notice who was actually in the cell.
Losing Kylie
Kylie was a close friend. The kind of person who saw me when the personas were running and stayed anyway. When she was gone, something I had been leaning on without naming it was gone too. I carry her name in everything I make now. KYLI is hers.
March 19, 2023
I survived my own attempt to leave. I will not dramatize it. I will say only this: the moment after was the first honest moment I had had in forty years.
Recognition
What changed was not motivation. Motivation had never been the problem. What changed was that I finally saw the patterns that had been driving me from the inside. Once you see a pattern, you cannot unsee it. That is the whole thing.
What came after
I wrote the book. I built the work. I rebuilt the relationships that could be rebuilt and let the rest go. Mostly, I am here, and that is more than I expected.
The First Lie I Ever Told.
About the selves we build to survive, the cost of believing them, and what is left when they finally come apart.
It is not a redemption story. It is a recognition story. The difference matters, and the difference is hopeful.
"The first lie I ever told was the one I told myself about who I was. Every lie after that was just maintenance."
Available in paperback, hardcover, and ebook. Audiobook narrated by Patrick Lomantini coming soon.
Quiet pieces, worn plainly.
I didn't write this book to impress people. I wrote it to tell the truth.
These are a few of the messages readers shared after turning the final page.
Every story is different.
The patterns are often the same.
These reflections are shared with permission and updated as new readers finish the book.
"Things that you talked about I see in myself and I hope to change these things. Thank you for stepping into my life and being a good friend."
"You did it. The transparency, the empathy, the progression and drive to help others. And it is good."
"I couldn't put it down. When I did, it was like I had to read more."
"I kept saying the same thing over and over while reading… then BAM… there it was."
"Proof that others have no idea what someone else is dealing with or why. I found you during your BarkAID years. Then you disappeared. Then you were back. The book explained so much. Thank you for your story, for sharing, and for going forward."
"I'm glad I read it. We all go through things people never see."
"Just finished your book. I applaud you for owning up to everything in your life. Making it public! Not everyone owns up to their mistakes. I identified to some parts like, pausing to really think things through. Reacting to my emotions immediately never ends well. I've changed that! I am glad that you are still here on this earth. God is definitely using you to help others."
"I'm so happy for you. This book is truly amazing. I felt so much of your words in my soul. I laughed and I cried. Because it's so real."
"Read your book last night. We all go through things people never see. I'm so glad God wasn't done with you. His plans are always better than ours. Thank you for your story, for sharing, and for going forward."
If any of these reflections felt familiar, perhaps it's time to discover what keeps repeating in your own life.
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The conversation continues here.
Weekly essays written in the same voice as the book. Quiet reflections about identity, recognition, healing, and what keeps repeating.
Another essay coming soon
Next weekDrafted in the same voice as the book. Sent to subscribers the day it goes up.
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The KYLI Life podcast.
Conversations in the same voice as the book. On YouTube.
For rooms that need to hear what almost killed me, and what came after.
I do not give keynotes about resilience. I talk about what was actually happening underneath the version of me that looked fine. I talk about identity, recognition, and the quiet way a life rebuilds when you finally stop running from it.
Recovery rooms. Justice-impacted communities. Founders. Faith communities. Family systems professionals. If your audience needs the truth said quietly, and a real reason to hope, I will come.
Twenty-something years behind the chair.
Before the books, before KYLI, before any of it, there was hair. A craft I came up in, fell out of love with, and found my way back to with a different pair of hands.
The chair taught me to listen before I knew I was listening. People tell you things in a salon they would not tell a therapist. I learned to keep quiet, to keep my scissors honest, and to send people back into the world feeling a little more like themselves.
I still take a small book of clients. If you want a cut, a color, or just an hour of unhurried attention, you can book directly.
Kyli
The book is the recognition. KYLI is what I built so the recognition could happen for someone else, in their own time, without me in the room. Named for my friend. Built for the person who is finally ready to look.
Direct is better.
Write directly, or use the form below — both reach me.
- Writing
- patrick@lomantini.com