Anthony Dyer shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Anthony, really appreciate you sharing your stories and insights with us. The world would have so much more understanding and empathy if we all were a bit more open about our stories and how they have helped shaped our journey and worldview. Let’s jump in with a fun one: What is something outside of work that is bringing you joy lately?
I love this question. Ironically enough, I was asked on the Gold Shields something to the effect of, “What’s the biggest mission you’re going to go on, and who’s sitting next to you on the plane?”
I replied, “My wife—because the biggest mission ever is being a dad, right?”
So that’s my mission now. That’s my joy and my everything, really. I’ve been called a lot of callsigns over the years—Uncle TITO and plenty more—but the one I’ve loved the most is when my daughter called me Dad
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I’m a retired Air Force Special Missions Aviator turned author. With my debut book, Moonchild, I tried to illustrate two major things.
First, I wanted America to understand that in these very uncommon jobs, we’re really just normal men and women doing very unnatural things—and that it’s okay to not be okay sometimes, and to seek help when you need it. I wanted to help remove the stigma that getting help is a career killer.
Second, I wanted to show the rest of America what goes on while they’re sleeping, during these…special operations.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: Who taught you the most about work?
I’ve had many examples throughout my life. My grandfather worked well into his late seventies and early eighties on a pig farm deep in Appalachia. My dad taught me to never let someone outwork you.
Then there was a moment at basketball camp. An older coach from a nearby college would shoot what felt like a hundred free throws in a row, and I’d never seen anything like it. He barely missed at all. The point he was making was simple: the key to success in anything is repetition.
So I’d say there are two words that will take you anywhere—perseverance and repetition
What have been the defining wounds of your life—and how have you healed them?
The defining wounds of my life are written in Moon Child.
They start with displacement—learning early how to live in the in-between. Night became both refuge and responsibility. I learned to stay alert, to perform strength, to keep moving. That worked for a long time, until it didn’t.
Another wound was inheritance—not just where I came from, but what was expected of me. Strength meant silence. Endurance meant never slowing down. In combat and afterward, humor, adrenaline, and risk became coping mechanisms. They kept me functional, but they also kept me from healing.
Healing wasn’t linear. It was cyclical—like the moon itself.
It began when I started telling the truth. Writing Moon Child was the first time I stopped outrunning my own story. Faith also became personal, not abstract. I once heard a line that stayed with me: “God will put you back together in front of those who broke you.” And I’ve learned this is also true—God will put you back together in front of what broke you.
Not to erase the past, but to prove it didn’t get the final word.
Today, healing looks like integration. The boy I was and the man I became aren’t at war anymore. The night flyer doesn’t live in constant alertness. The scars are still there—but they’re no longer open wounds. They’re testimony.
Sure, so let’s go deeper into your values and how you think. What truths are so foundational in your life that you rarely articulate them?
One of the most foundational truths in my life is that my word is my bond. I grew up in Western North Carolina, where a handshake still means something—where if you give your word, that is the contract.
That shaped how I move through the world. You don’t over-promise. You don’t make excuses. And you don’t disappear when things get hard. Your name matters because it’s tied to how you treat people when no one’s watching.
That value followed me everywhere—into the military, into combat, into fatherhood, and into writing. Trust isn’t built with speeches; it’s built with consistency. And once it’s broken, it’s almost impossible to earn back.
I don’t talk about that much because it’s not something I perform—it’s something I live. But it’s the spine of everything I do.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: Have you ever gotten what you wanted, and found it did not satisfy you?
I did. And I learned the hard way that when I turned to everything—the bottle, the crowd, the distractions—except God, nothing ever really settled the ache.
What I’ve come to believe is this: God often puts us in isolation before elevation. Not as punishment, but as protection. Isolation strips away the noise, the false comfort, the people and habits that keep you from hearing the truth.
For me, that quiet was uncomfortable. It forced me to face myself without the numbing, without the applause, without the escape routes. But that’s where clarity came. That’s where healing started.
Elevation didn’t look like status or momentum anymore. It looked like sobriety, presence, humility, and purpose. Like becoming someone my family could rely on—and someone I could live with when things got quiet.
That truth sits at the heart of Moon Child. Sometimes what feels like loss is actually God clearing space to rebuild you the right way.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.traitmarkermedia.com/moonchild
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/marco_brolo21?igsh=aXU0eG40dGVhNGVk
- Twitter: https://x.com/anthonyp_dyer
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/share/1DYfq4z5Yf/
- Other: https://a.co/d/0hXkerbL
