
I guess you’re trying therapy. Maybe it’s your first time (and someone has probably suggested it a dozen times). Or maybe it’s your fifth.
You keep hearing the same feedback:
“You’re a narcissist.” “You’re emotionally unavailable.” “I can’t do this anymore.” “Are you not committed to this relationship?” “Why can’t you [fill the blank with something that makes you feel like failing]?”
Or maybe nobody has actually said it, but inside, you know you’ve been wearing a mask. Maybe you’re so good at it that no one else has caught on. But you feel it: something is missing. You’re living in a way that doesn’t feel built for the kind of fulfilling life you actually want. The kind of life old men talk about at the end, when they regret not showing up differently.
Is it the lying? The dishonesty?
The “cool guy” act to cover how you really feel?
The stoic face to make sure nobody sees weakness?
The shutting down, stonewalling, or sabotaging?
Exploding when you feel cornered?
Using humor or intellect to keep people at arm’s length?
Chasing sex, money, or status to fill something inside?
The truth is, this version of you has worked. It’s gotten you success. It’s gotten you attention. It’s probably even been fun. But if you’re honest, your relationships with yourself and with others feel thin. Surface-level. Not enough.
And I’ll be real with you: I’m direct. If you’re doing something that’s shooting yourself in the foot relationally, I’ll call it out. Sometimes I’ll even say, “Yeah, that’s dumb.” But I’m also here for the long run. I know this might not be your first shot at therapy. Or maybe it is, and you’ve avoided it because the idea of being seen makes your skin crawl and feel weak. And I know that even if you’ve done a lot of therapy, you’re probably still wrestling with the same damn masks.
So what do we do? We peel back the layers. We build a real relationship between us. And then we use it as a testing ground. The same defenses you bring out there, you’ll bring in here. That’s the point. It gives us a chance to work with them in real time.
You bring your stuff in here, we play with it, we work through it. Then you take it out into the real world and try it on. Repeat.
That’s the process. And yeah, sometimes we’ll both feel frustrated, sometimes it’ll feel like we’re spinning in circles. But that’s part of it. Real change happens when you stop running from yourself. Not overnight, but through the slow shedding of the masks that keep you from yourself.

This isn’t about fixing you.
Or making you weak (I know you are thinking about it).
It’s about helping you finally feel real with yourself and with the people you love.