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Stories about the things men carry but never say out loud. Written by one man figuring it out in real time. Start wherever it stings.
The Algorithm Knows My Rising Sign
I have a confession that will surprise no one who has ever had a bad week.
Last winter, on a grey Tuesday, walking my dog through a neighbourhood that looked exactly as I felt — damp, directionless, slightly behind schedule — I opened YouTube and searched for a tarot reading. The most optimistic one I could find. Something about breakthroughs. Energies aligning.
Men's inner life — without the mask
I climbed for over twenty years before I thought to look down.
Not a mountain. The usual ladder — the one they set up for you before you know what's at the top. School. Job. Better job. Title. Salary. Apartment. Car. The kind of life that looks right from the outside and feels thin from the inside.
Knowing Isn't Freedom
On the gap between knowing your wounds and actually being free of them.
I have done the work.
I know why I get angry. I know what's underneath it. I've traced the root back to a boy who didn't have enough power and is now walking around in a man's body, occasionally honking at strangers like it means something.
Old Reflexes
There are moments when I don’t become the man I believe I am. They arrive unexpectedly. A tone. A look. A sentence delivered just slightly above me. And before I can think, something tightens inside.
I stop being measured. I stop being calm. I stop being the man who writes reflective essays. I become reactive. I’ve started to notice a pattern.