Imagine a different kind of summit. Not a conference room defined by flags and hardened positions, but a circle. A space where the weight of the world's most powerful men is momentarily set down, replaced by the simple, ancient weight of being human.

Strip away the titles, the security details, and the nuclear codes. What remains are men with childhood experiences, with fears that keep them awake at night, and with the simple heartaches of loss and relationship strain. Imagine Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, and Benjamin Netanyahu sitting in a space where they are not debating policy, but sharing the quiet traumas that shaped them.

This is the power of the men's circle: a conversation based on radical authenticity. But let us be truly pragmatic. If our world were a logical place, why are these men still in power? A true pragmatist looks at the evidence: a system that allows racist, conceited criminals and war offenders to govern is a system that has failed. It is time to demand a world where power is held only by those who have the emotional literacy and human decency to sit in the circle.

As we move through the festive season, I find myself reflecting on something paradoxical: we've never been more "connected," yet many of us are starving for real connection.

Just as a clinician identifies physical malnourishment by what's missing from someone's diet, I've come to recognize connection malnourishment in myself and others. We send emojis, comment on photos, and discuss trivial matters—but when was the last time you felt truly seen?

This festive season, I'm asking myself: Am I truly nourished by my connections, or am I filling up on empty calories?

Safety and connection have been the foundations of my journey, and looking back at my life, everything happened either when I was feeling safe and connected—or when I absolutely wasn't. Sometimes I'd be sitting in the safest room imaginable, surrounded by people who loved me, and my brain was still convinced I was about to be mauled by a bear. Other times, I was in actual chaos, but something clicked internally and I felt weirdly okay. So much of my experience has lived in that tension.

When a man says 'I want to feel good enough,' what he's really asking is: 'Am I worthy of love, respect, and belonging just as I am?' True liberation lies in stepping out of the measurement game entirely. It's about simply being without labels, without proving, without the constant internal scorecard that says 'not quite there yet.' The invitation isn't to become good enough. It's to stop chasing enoughness entirely and start belonging—to yourself, to others, to life itself.

Many men only confront their emotional well-being after a crisis hits. This article delves into the cultural conditioning and biological factors that lead to emotional avoidance in men, and offers a powerful path toward proactive, courageous inner work. Learn how to break the cycle of waiting for pain and embrace a new definition of masculine strength.

I felt like a leaf being tossed and turned in the rapids—completely powerless, overtaken by emotions I didn’t understand. I had no clarity, no control, and most painfully, I couldn’t give or receive love. Then, like so many of us experience, the moment came when everything fell apart. The shit hit the fan.

Loss. Addictions. Physical decline. Toxic relationships.

Each hit harder than the last, forcing me to finally confront myself—my spiritual, emotional, and physical existence. That’s when I stopped running. Instead of escaping, I turned inwards. I sat in the silence. I embraced the noise. I let every suppressed emotion rise to the surface. The good. The bad. The unbearable. And I did something radical—I listened.

After nearly two decades in health care, I came to realize that Western medicine, with its focus on treating symptoms, often neglects the deeper aspects of well-being. I was drawn to a more holistic view of health, one that sees the mind, body, and spirit as interconnected. This perspective took me back to the essence of care I saw in my parents, who practiced nursing in a raw but profoundly human way. Inspired by their approach and by leading voices reshaping the field, I launched The Men Spirit to support men in discovering their authentic selves and reclaiming wellness in a way that honors both science and spirit.

Attachment theory, developed by British psychologist John Bowlby in the mid-20th century, is a powerful framework for understanding how our early relationships with caregivers shape our emotional patterns and behaviours in adulthood. This theory, refined over the years by researchers like Mary Ainsworth, offers valuable insights into the ways men form and maintain relationships, and how these patterns impact their overall well-being and healing journeys.