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Living the Americans: My Real-Life Spy Thriller
Burned Not Broken: Why I'm finally Choosing Myself
I’m in isolation mode again.
Curtains drawn. Devices checked for bugs. Binge-watching all six seasons of The Americans. Alexa unplugged — because every time I ask the damn thing to play “Liz’s Playlist,” it plays Barack Obama’s shitty playlist instead. Almost every single time. Not a coincidence. Not a glitch. You’ll understand why soon enough.
It’s oddly comforting watching this show — not as escapism, but because it’s the closest thing to a mirror I’ve found. The Americans follows two KGB intelligence officers running deep cover in the U.S. during the Reagan-era Cold War. Phillip and Elizabeth Jennings are thrown into an arranged marriage as part of the assignment. Two kids, an upscale Virginia suburb, a travel agency as a front — a picture-perfect, white-picket-fence, Norman Rockwell life on the surface. And underneath it, they destroy lives for a living.
The Playbook
I know this show nails real spy tradecraft because I’ve lived it. Not on a screen — in my actual life. Except I’m not a spy. I’m a high-value target.
For the past decade, undercover operatives and intelligence assets have run coordinated operations against me — surveilling me, infiltrating my inner circle, doing everything in their power to neutralize me without leaving fingerprints. The Americans doesn’t flinch from the brutality of that world: the cruelty, the heartlessness, the good people destroyed or left dead in the wake of an operation. Neither does my story, or the book I’m writing that lays it all out in detail.
Read my full essay in my Substack link below.👇🏻
Burned Not Broken: Why I'm finally Choosing Myself
I’m in isolation mode again.
Curtains drawn. Devices checked for bugs. Binge-watching all six seasons of The Americans. Alexa unplugged — because every time I ask the damn thing to play “Liz’s Playlist,” it plays Barack Obama’s shitty playlist instead. Almost every single time. Not a coincidence. Not a glitch. You’ll understand why soon enough.
It’s oddly comforting watching this show — not as escapism, but because it’s the closest thing to a mirror I’ve found. The Americans follows two KGB intelligence officers running deep cover in the U.S. during the Reagan-era Cold War. Phillip and Elizabeth Jennings are thrown into an arranged marriage as part of the assignment. Two kids, an upscale Virginia suburb, a travel agency as a front — a picture-perfect, white-picket-fence, Norman Rockwell life on the surface. And underneath it, they destroy lives for a living.
The Playbook
I know this show nails real spy tradecraft because I’ve lived it. Not on a screen — in my actual life. Except I’m not a spy. I’m a high-value target.
For the past decade, undercover operatives and intelligence assets have run coordinated operations against me — surveilling me, infiltrating my inner circle, doing everything in their power to neutralize me without leaving fingerprints. The Americans doesn’t flinch from the brutality of that world: the cruelty, the heartlessness, the good people destroyed or left dead in the wake of an operation. Neither does my story, or the book I’m writing that lays it all out in detail.
Read my full essay in my Substack link below.👇🏻
