The FORGE™

I see you.

You’ve spent years carrying weight no one else can feel. The kind that builds slowly, layer after layer, until it’s so normal you forget what it feels like not to be tired. You show up. You smile when you’re supposed to. You keep the peace. You do what’s expected. But inside? It’s loud. And heavy. And getting harder to manage.

Maybe no one’s ever asked how you’re doing. Maybe you don’t even know how to answer anymore. Or maybe you stopped hoping anyone cared enough to listen.

We know what it’s like to reach that moment — the one where it’s quiet around you but screaming inside. The one where you sit on the edge of your bed and wonder if this is just how life is always going to feel. Maybe you’ve had the thought; Maybe you’ve made the plan; Maybe you’ve already said your goodbyes in your head.

If that’s where you are — or have ever been — we need you to hear this:

You are not weak. You are not broken. You are not alone.

There is a reason you’re still here. There’s something in you that hasn’t given up. Even if it’s hanging on by a thread. And that thread? That’s enough. That’s why I built The MEN Retreat — for the men we lost, and the ones we refuse to lose. We named it for the 98 men who die every single day by suicide. Missed Every Night. Men who never said a word. Men who were told to “man up.” Men who wore a smile while they planned their exit.

My team and I are not okay with that, and we never have been. This retreat isn’t therapy. It’s not soft. It’s not a lecture. It’s a fire. One that burns off the bullshit and leaves you with what’s real. Who you really are — under the mask, behind the armor. You don’t need to be fixed. You need to be seen. And held. And reminded that you still matter.

If that scares you — good. That means it’s real. And maybe for the first time in a long time, so are you. You don’t need to be ready. You just need to be willing. We’ll meet you there.

— For the ones we’ve lost. For the ones still fighting. And for you.

Let me tell you something I’ve lived:

Healing doesn’t start when you figure everything out. It starts when you finally stop pretending. When you stop performing. When you stop trying to be “fine.” It starts with honesty — the kind that makes your voice crack and your hands shake. The kind that feels like a risk.

I’ve been there. After I lost my best friend to suicide, something broke in me. I went numb. I buried it. I told myself to toughen up, to push through. That’s what we’re taught, right? As men, we’re told to carry it all — in silence. But that silence nearly killed me too. I had a plan. I knew how I was going to go. But something in me shifted. I asked for help. I opened my mouth. And the minute I did — the second I let someone see the truth — the weight started to lift.

That’s the thing no one tells you: You don’t lose love when you’re honest. You find it. You find connection. You find brothers. And that’s where healing begins.

FORGE for MEN isn’t therapy. It’s not soft. And it sure as hell isn’t easy. It’s a fire. One you step into not because you’re broken — but because you’re ready to burn off everything that’s not you. It’s where you come exactly as you are — scared, scarred, unsure — and find out that what’s underneath is more than enough.

I won’t lie to you. This is going to be hard. You’re going to want to run. But what’s waiting on the other side? It’s real. It’s freeing. And it’s worth it.

You’re not too far gone. You’re not the only one. And you don’t have to keep walking this road alone.

I’m standing on the other side of the fire — and I promise, it’s better over here.