Cator Sparks Coaching

Today is my first full day as 50 year old Cator (I was born at 12:17pm 1976!). I’m waking up in Greece, my paternal homeland, and sitting in gratitude.

I journal every year for my birthday. I have journal entries (now Google Docs) from my 24th birthday onward. I always read last years before I write one for this year.

Reading back on 2025, I’m amazed I didn’t mention anything about mom’s decline. I was well aware of it then but maybe she was steady and I didn’t want to think about it. I still can’t believe she is gone. I woke up yesterday to watch the sun rise. I listened to one of her old voice mails. I miss hearing how sweet her -I love you’s- were to me. I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I needed that release.

This year, so many people have wished me a happy 21st or a happy 30th or a happy 40th dodging the big 5-0. I always reply that I am so grateful to have made it to 50. I was never an addict, but I certainly pushed the limits on many substances for years and put myself in precarious situations, so I am thankful that my angels guided me in the right direction and protected me. I’m also acutely aware, many gay men did not live to 50 during the AIDS crisis and I am so thankful to live in a time that medicine has made it possible for us to thrive as a q***r culture and still have fun. (Continued in comments)

Mama died one month ago. I still can’t believe she’s not a 30 min drive or a phone call away.

I know she is at peace. When we spoke in early March I asked her if she was ready to go and she gently said, ‘Yes, I believe that deeply.’ It was her time. But that doesn’t make it any easier loosing my mother.

I’m so grateful I was with her when she took her last breath. Her caregiver called me at 4am. I met my sister at mama’s home and we sat with her and her sweet puppy cuddled tightly next to her. She brought me into this world and I had the honor of shepherding her out of it.

This is the eulogy I wrote for her funeral. Writing is how I process so much in life so this was cathartic on many levels. More pieces will be written about this amazing woman I called mama, but here is the first.

Substack in bio. 💜

Mama died one month ago. I still can’t believe she’s not a 30 min drive or a phone call away.

I know she is at peace. When we spoke in early March I asked her if she was ready to go and she gently said, ‘Yes, I believe that deeply.’ It was her time. But that doesn’t make it any easier loosing my mother.

I’m so grateful I was with her when she took her last breath. Her caregiver called me at 4am. I met my sister at mama’s home and we sat with her and her sweet puppy cuddled tightly next to her. She brought me into this world and I had the honor of shepherding her out of it.

This is the eulogy I wrote for her funeral. Writing is how I process so much in life so this was cathartic on many levels. More pieces will be written about this amazing woman I calls mama, but here is the first.

Substack in bio. 💜

I’ve been sitting with this one. Eight men came to my home in Atlanta last weekend, and something shifted in that house that I don’t yet have the words for.
It’s been three days since our first GBTQ Retreat wrapped up here in Atlanta, and like the men who attended, I am still processing the weekend. That feels like the right response.

While we keep so much of what happens between us — that is the magic of these retreats — certain themes surface every time. I wrote about aa few that showed up strong last weekend on my Substack. Link in bio.

As for what’s next — I’m giving myself the gift of not knowing. My mama is not well, and my focus is on her right now. I’ve learned to trust that when the time is right, my body will tell me. That’s the work, isn’t it? Slow down. Be present. Feel. That’s when the magic happens.
Even though I don’t have a date, if you are interested in joining the next retreat, please message me. I would be honored to add you to the waitlist. [email protected]
Until then, thank you to the eight men who trusted me with their hearts. You know who you are.🙏🏻

Happy holidays from my little family to yours!
This is the first year in ages that I haven’t sent out Christmas cards. Life has been a little overwhelming recently (more to come on that on my Substack) and spending all of that time and money on cards was something that just wasn’t bringing me joy this year. And you know what? THAT’S OK!

It can feel relieving to say no to things when you’re feeling overwhelmed, and it’s OK to take care of yourself even during the season of giving.

The money I would’ve spent on holiday cards I have donated to Lost and Found Youth, a non profit that finds safety and shelter for
Atlanta’s LGBTQ+ Youth.

This holiday season don’t forget to:
* Schedule down time (watch Rudolph!)
* Know your boundaries around family/politics
* It all doesn’t have to be perfect
* Connect to your feelings
* Don’t over consume
* Be present and ENJOY the moment!

Peace and Love,

Cator (49), Gareth (14), Arthur (2), Juju (Mama’s pup), and Walnut (3)

This season, give yourself the gift that matters most: coming home to yourself. 🎁

While everyone else is buying things that’ll be forgotten by February, what if you invested in the one thing that lasts—deep self-love and authentic connection?

Join Cator Sparks and Ron Gray for three days of transformation designed specifically for gay, bi, trans, and q***r men.

March 20-22 | Atlanta

Through somatic practices, breathwork, and meaningful connection with 7 other incredible men, you’ll:
• Release shame you’ve been carrying
• Reconnect with your body’s wisdom
• Build community that actually sees you
• Learn tools for lasting self-compassion

This is yoga that honors you. Meals prepared with care. Conversations that go soul-deep. The kind of weekend that changes everything.

🎁 Our gift to you: 10% off with holiday code QUEERJOY2026

Only 5 spots left!
👉 Give yourself this: link in bio

💚 Tag someone who deserves this gift
💚 Save this for when you’re ready to say yes to yourself

Today is International Men’s Day when we celebrate the positive value men bring to the world, their families and communities.

I want to shout out my friends who show up when it matters, who make me laugh until my face hurts, and who aren’t afraid to be real with me – thank you. You make life so much better.

Here’s to the men who listen, who lift others up, who aren’t afraid to be vulnerable, and who lead with kindness. The world needs more of what you bring to it.

So many of us struggle with vulnerability. We often feel like we are alone in our thoughts and feelings, yet when we share we often hear ‘me too’. Then the mask comes off, the connection deepens, the healing begins.

Need help opening up? I’m here for you.