You’re Not for Everyone

This week’s playbook:
There’s no right way to do this work.
This is just my way — the one I’ve lived, the one that saved me, and the one I keep coming back to when I start to drift.

• What happens when you lose your voice
  

• Why breaking might be the most honest thing you ever do
  

• How I rebuilt from my own rock bottom — values first, then vision, then purpose
  

• What keeps me grounded when I start to disappear again
  

• And the reminder I needed this week:
  You’re not for everyone — and that’s a fucking gift

The truth that hit me this morning

I’ve been showing up.

Posting. Writing. Speaking.

But the last few weeks, something’s felt off.
And this morning, during meditation, it hit me:

I haven’t been speaking with my real voice.

I’ve been filtering. Softening.
Trying to be “respectable.” Trying not to offend anyone.
Trying to say the right thing in the right tone so the right people would nod their heads.

And that’s not who the fuck I am.

I followed the blueprint — and it damn near killed me

I used to live by what I thought a “good man” was supposed to do.
I got married young. Bought the house. Took the corporate job.
Did everything right.

And on the inside, I was fucking miserable.

I was empty.
Disconnected.
Waking up with this quiet kind of depression that just followed me everywhere.

I didn’t know who I was.
Couldn’t answer that question if you asked me.

So I chased adrenaline to feel something.
Sex. Escape. The thrill of the chase.
Not because I didn’t care — but because I felt nothing.

And yeah — I blew up a lot of things that mattered.
I hurt people.
I wrecked relationships.
And in 2022, I hit a point where I wondered if I even wanted to keep going.

The break is what saved me

Men either allow themselves to break — or they hold it together until it explodes.

I tried to hold it together.

And it exploded.

But looking back, that break saved me.
Because it was the first time I got honest.

“I don’t know who the fuck I am. But I can’t keep doing this.”

What actually changed things

Not a book.
Not another podcast.
Not another motivational post.

It was community.

Men who weren’t afraid of my mess.
Men who had been through their own hell and didn’t need me to perform.
Men who asked hard questions and didn’t let me bullshit myself.

And eventually — a coach.
Who, in the middle of me trying to figure out some grand purpose, just asked:

“Who are you? And what do you stand for?”

And I had nothing.
I didn’t know.
That’s when I knew I had to start from scratch.

Start with values

And I don’t mean traits like “discipline” and “loyalty.”
I mean: what do you actually value?
What are the ingredients of a life that feels like yours?

For me, it’s:

• Simplicity
  

• Abundance
  

• Love
  

• Fun
  

• Creativity
  

These are the things I use to build everything — my work, my marriage, my fatherhood, my health, my future.

That’s what values actually are.
They’re not branding. They’re anchors.

Building vision from that

Once I got clear on what I valued, I asked:

“If I had all five of these fully alive in my life… what would that look like in five years?”

That’s how my vision started forming.
Not through hustle.
Not through performance.
But through alignment.

And once I started living into that alignment, my purpose became clear:

• To create space for men to connect and heal
  

• To live an unhurried life
  

That’s what drives everything I’m building — from Forge to retreats to the content I post.

I still drift sometimes

Even now, I lose it.

I let too many outside voices in — from people I respect, even love.
And when I do, I shrink.
I second-guess.
I get careful again.
And I start sounding more like what I think people want from me… instead of who I am.

That’s what’s been happening lately.

I stopped posting pictures.
Stopped making videos.
Stopped showing up all the way.

Because I didn’t like what I saw — not physically, but spiritually.
I was looking at a man who had lost his edge.

Until this morning, when it all clicked.

I’ve worked too hard to hide now

I’ve put in the work.
The reps.
The pain.
The growth.
The daily decisions to become this man.

And I’ll be damned if I’m going to water it down just to keep people comfortable.

This is me.

I work out in my driveway. Usually with my shirt off.
Not from ego — from authenticity.

I’m proud of what I’ve built.
Proud of the discipline.
Proud of the consistency.
Proud of my voice.
Proud of the man I see in the mirror again.

I swear.
I say shit people don’t always agree with.
I don’t sugarcoat.
I don’t tiptoe around feelings to stay liked.

I do it because I fucking love people.
And sometimes love looks like truth — even when it stings.

If you’re drifting right now, here’s my playbook

• Let yourself break. Stop pretending. Stop performing. That’s not strength.
  

• Get around real men who won’t let you lie to yourself.
  

• Figure out what you actually value — and build around it.
  

• Let your vision grow from that. Let purpose come through alignment.
  

• Sit with yourself. Every damn day. No distractions. No noise. Just you and God.
  

This is my playbook.
Not the playbook.
But if something in it hits — take it. Use it. Make it your own.

As always, thanks for reading,
Kyle

Song of the Week:

“Leave Me Alone” – NF

All about the pressure to fit, the voices in your head, and the fight to stay grounded in who you really are.

“Pain’s always been the root of my music
If I cut it off, how am I supposed to keep growing?”

Growth doesn’t come from pretending you’re fine.
It comes from owning your shit — and refusing to hide anymore.