Meet Aubrey Love

Born and raised in Texas, I grew up just south of Austin in the small town of Bastrop. Life was simpler there—slower, quieter, and wide open. Bastrop wasn’t just a location on a map; it was a lifestyle. People knew your name, doors were left unlocked, and the smell of mesquite wood in the air was as familiar as the sound of cicadas at dusk. Summers were sacred—they were spent out at my grandfather’s ranch, where I learned the meaning of patience, hard work, and silence. From sunup to sundown, I’d mend fences, feed livestock, and ride through trails that seemed to stretch into the heavens. Those long Texas summers didn’t just shape me—they grounded me.

While the ranch gave me peace, my home life brought pain. I was abused and neglected by my father, emotionally and physically. It was a reality I never asked for, but one that taught me how to survive. I learned to read silence, to anticipate danger, to shield others from harm. Through it all, I never allowed it to break me. I turned the hurt into armor, and the emptiness into space for empathy. I became a gentle giant—a protector with a voice that could roar but chose, more often, to soothe. These experiences gave me the emotional reservoir I now draw from in every line I record. Pain taught me range. Trauma taught me tone.

I won’t sugar-coat it—I carried that rage and anger from my father into my own adult life. I passed it along, unintentionally, to the people I loved most—my ex-wife, and even my children. It was a cycle of pain repeating itself through frustration and unchecked emotion. But by the grace of God, I began to change. I started to reflect. I started to heal. I began to mend fences and rebuild bridges. Unfortunately, by the time I found my growth, it was too late for the woman who I thought would always be by my side. But for my children—I still have time. And with them, I grow stronger every single day.

In the world of tech, I earned my stripes. I’m a certified cybersecurity consultant and freelance web developer with over a decade of hands-on experience. I’ve worked behind the curtain—securing data, writing hardened code, consulting for firms large and small, and navigating the digital minefields most people never see. My handle in the cyber world is Z3r0 S3c, and I’ve built a reputation as someone who’s as brilliant as he is discreet. I know the digital world intimately—from the protocols that connect us to the vulnerabilities that can destroy us. That background now feeds my discipline and precision as a voice actor.

But now... I’m walking a new path. Voice acting found me—not the other way around. It started with making my kids laugh. From Elmo and Shaggy to Optimus Prime and Mufasa, my house was filled with sound. That fun evolved into fascination when I realized I could drop my voice into frequencies that made walls vibrate. After running real-world tests, I discovered something wild—my voice naturally produces subharmonic frequencies down to 9Hz, placing me in territory most humans can’t even hear. That changed everything. I wasn’t just playing—I was holding power. Now, I’m channeling it into narration, characters, trailers, and audio that you don’t just hear—you *feel.*

I’m also a father before anything else. My son lives with me full-time, and I share three beautiful daughters with my ex-wife. My kids are the breath in my lungs, the fire in my soul. They keep me centered, grounded, and motivated to be more. My dream is to give them the life I didn’t have—a life of freedom, respect, and opportunity. I would go to war for my children. I would confront heaven or hell for them, though God willing, I’ll never have to. They deserve peace. And this journey—this voice—might just be the road that leads us there.

I was married for 16 years. We built a life, or so I thought, and then one day, she walked away. No goodbyes, no second chances—just silence. That pain nearly buried me. I spiraled. But instead of letting it consume me, I created. I poured my soul into the voices I had once only used for bedtime stories. Those characters—the funny ones, the serious ones, the dark and brooding ones—they saved me. They gave me something to cling to.

What made it all worse was the nightmare surrounding how it ended. I was expected to remain calm and respectful as she spent time alone with my own brother—no boundaries, no consideration for how it might tear me apart. She played chess with him night after night—something she only did with me once in our entire marriage. I’d get cold shoulders while they exchanged warm smiles right in front of me. It wasn’t just betrayal—it was humiliation. It broke something in me.

When she said she wanted a "break," I snapped. The emotional toll was unbearable. I reached a moment where I nearly ended my own life. I was ready to quit everything, and it would’ve been tragic—not just for me, but for our children. But somehow, I clawed my way back. I started rebuilding, one shattered piece at a time. Then came the divorce... and just three weeks after my brother moved in, she openly discussed moving in with him. That moment destroyed the last remnants of the life I thought we were building.

I was discarded without care, without closure. And still, I stand. Yes, my heart is cracked in places most people never see. But I’m not looking to replace what I lost—I’m searching for something greater. A woman who sees value in truth, in loyalty, in rebuilding—not from the pieces of a broken past, but from the foundation of something new. I don’t need a replacement—I need a revolution of love. One that runs deeper, wiser, and more fiercely than anything I’ve ever known.

The process wasn’t pretty. There were arguments, fits of rage, moments when we barely held back the emotional explosion. But oddly, the divorce itself was civil. It was the letting go after nearly two decades of shared life that tore me open. The emotional aftermath was—and still is—brutal. Some days I feel strong, like I’ve conquered the past. Other days, I break. I cry. I fall into the waves of what was and what could’ve been. But every time I fall, I get back up. And every time I speak into the mic, I speak from the fire that’s forged me. Something to build with. And now, they’re part of a new identity I’m proud to claim.

Today, I walk with my head up and my heart open. I’m searching for a life partner who will see me, hear me, and stand with me—not behind me, not above me. I want to build something sacred, raw, and real. I want to love again—but with the awareness that comes from loss. I know pain. I know sacrifice. And I know the healing power of connection. Somewhere out there, I believe there’s a woman who gets it—who values strength with softness, masculinity with emotional intelligence, and loyalty without control. I don’t need to be completed. I just want to be respected—and to respect in return.