So, I recently expanded one of my men’s groups due to demand, which brought a lot of new energy into the room. The original group had been together long enough to develop shorthand, pacing, and an internal sense of timing. The new guys didn’t have that yet. A couple of them had a lot going on and leaned heavily into storytelling rather than identifying feelings and asking for what they needed.

Sometimes “I want a soft landing” really means, “I don’t know how to land on my own.” Sometimes “I want someone who makes me feel wanted” means, “I don’t know how to generate worth internally.” Sometimes “I want someone to hold me when I’m falling apart” means, “I have never learned how to process my own shame, anger, or fear.”

We all click “I agree” without reading. That might be the most accurate metaphor for how many of us live.

Somewhere along the way, boundaries started to feel dramatic. Or selfish. Or rigid. So instead of building terms, we began writing conditions into everything.

A term is a structural decision. It organizes your life in a way that does not depend on the emotional weather around you. It isn’t about mood, and it isn’t a preference waiting to see who objects. It is something you have decided in advance and that stands even when it becomes inconvenient.

Men usually come to this work because they would like to be better. They have noticed or been made aware of their reactivity, defensiveness, anger, fear, etc. So they decide they want to grow. They decide they want to heal. And to become more conscious of their behaviors and how they affect those who love them and the world.

So they set their sights on a future version of themselves that is less reactive, more patient, and more regulated. This future version doesn’t get pulled into conflict, doesn’t get frustrated with their partner or their kids, and can remain grounded no matter what is happening around them.

On the surface, that sounds pretty good. But underneath it, something else is happening. Namely, they have created a spiritually acceptable reason to reject themselves in the present.

When you read the stats on male friendship these days, it looks pretty grim. 15% of men report having no close friends. If you’re under thirty, that number shoots up to 27%. And if you’re over 55, loneliness rates are closer to a whopping 40%. I see these stats in action all the time. One of the number one complaints that my clients have is a lack of male friendship.

It’s not that they don’t want to connect — they desperately want and need to. It’s just that the rules for friendship changed as they got older and there was nobody there to explain them. The problem wasn’t a personal failure on their part, it was a developmental gap.