Headshot of a smiling man wearing a beige blazer and light blue dress shirt against a neutral background. Mickey Moore headshot

I've been a college honor student and a meth addict.


I've owned and operated an underground gambling room and led a successful Rotary service project.


I've been broke and dependent on my mother and today I'm a millionaire.


I've been fired by three casinos in three states and every time I turned it into an opportunity.

The story so far

How I got here

My parents owned strip clubs, so I grew up in the adult entertainment industry.

My father was a hard-drinking Navy veteran with a nasty streak who was convicted of manslaughter. My mother went from go-go dancer to successful entrepreneur.

One of my brothers later killed our stepfather, and both of my brothers eventually went to federal prison.

I was no angel. After the killing, I entered a period of my life that we'll call "the culture," a world of drugs, gambling, hustling, and crime.

In time, I had developed a full-blown meth habit and was ashamed of what I had become. That's when I was introduced to personal development principles. I immersed myself in an entirely new way of thinking and being. I got involved in direct sales, became president of a respected business organization, and became a committed Rotarian. I had basically transformed my life.

But then the culture resurfaced, and I fell off the cliff into the depths of meth use. This time I was truly desperate and afraid of what was happening to my life, and I knew I had to physically remove myself from the culture.

Casino dealing became my escape. After dealing in casinos in Oklahoma for a few years, I still hadn't shaken the culture. But in 2008, I took a job at the Hard Rock in Tampa and left the culture behind for good.

Almost immediately, I met the woman of my dreams, and together we built a real estate portfolio that now includes five properties and a net worth of about $1.5 million.

But throughout all that personal and financial success, I still had a lingering problem: alcohol. Finally, in 2025, a DUI arrest and a short jail stint forced me to confront the contradiction I was living.

I gave up alcohol. Now it's time to truly create the complete life that I am committed to.

A collage showing various scenes: top row depicts a city skyline at sunset, middle rows feature counseling, corporate training, outdoor couple, prison cell with a man, police cars at night, and a man looking hopeful at sunset, and bottom row shows a man hiking near a city skyline at sunrise.

The turning point.

Why now?

Why now?

I decided in high school that I wanted to do something with my life that would have a positive impact on as many people as possible, but I had no idea what to do. Then a speaker came to my school and blew my mind. I remember thinking, "That's what I want to do. I want to make people feel the way he just made me feel."

That dream got lost during the dark years that followed. After discovering personal development, I remembered it. Since finally leaving the culture behind, that dream has been collecting dust on a shelf. Alcohol became both an excuse and a wall.

So, why now?

One time in college, I had a ten-page writing assignment due at 5 PM on the final day of the semester. I started writing at about 8 that morning, pumped out eight and a half pages, and got an A on the assignment and in the class. That may have been one of the worst lessons I ever learned. I could procrastinate until the last minute and still get rewarded.

At 57 years old, I'm at a crossroads, confronted with one of life's harshest realities: deadlines for dreams aren't manufactured by professors, and no one is going to set them for us.

A confident man with a friendly smile, wearing a dark checkered blazer, light blue shirt, and a watch, standing with arms crossed against a plain light gray background. Mickey Moore headshot

It's

5 o'clock.