For the guys who’ve been holding it down for everyone else—and might just be starting to wonder… at what cost?
Alright, brother—let’s have a real one.
You’re solid. You get things done. You know how to hold the line, get through it, push forward. Whether it’s the flight deck, the field, the job, the family—you’re the guy people rely on.
But here’s the question no one’s asking you:
Where do you go to fall apart a little?
Who’s checking on you?
And when’s the last time you were honest about the fact that yeah, you’re handling it… but it’s getting heavy?
If you’ve ever said “I’m good” when you’re actually barely holding it together, this one’s for you.
Because let’s be clear—golf isn’t therapy.
Neither is overworking, weekend projects, a stacked gym schedule, or another silent afternoon in the garage avoiding the chaos inside the house.
Here are 9 things you might be doing instead of therapy—and why they’re not giving you what you actually need.
1. Sending the wife on a “target run” Just to get them out of the house
Look, we’re not judging the dopamine hit of a clean aisle and overpriced candles you wife gets in that moment.
But if you’re walking around aimlessly just to clear your head while she’s gone? You might need something deeper than a wife who returns fake un-stressed.
✖ Relief ≠ resolution.
2. 18 holes + a drink = temporary peace
Yes, golf is a vibe.
Yes, it gives you distance. Space. Silence.
But if you’re playing to escape instead of reset, you’re not actually resting—you’re just hiding.
And eventually, the thing you’re avoiding will meet you back at the door.
3. Picking up extra shifts (because “busy” feels safer than quiet)
It’s easier to stay in motion.
To be productive.
To have something to show for your time.
But when you can’t sit still without your thoughts getting loud? That’s not hustle. That’s avoidance.
4. Scrolling instead of sleeping
You say you’re just unwinding, decompressing.
But two hours into reels about tactical gear, off-grid cabins, and relationship memes that hit a little too close to home—you’re more tired and still unprocessed.
You don’t need more content. You need space to talk.
5. Telling yourself “I’ve been through worse”
Sure. You’ve survived hard things.
But that doesn’t mean this thing doesn’t matter.
Comparison is a tool the mind uses to shame you out of your own healing.
You don’t have to earn the right to talk to someone. You already qualify.
6. Letting your partner be “the emotional one”
Maybe they’ve suggested therapy. Maybe you brushed it off.
But the longer you keep the lid on, the more the pressure builds.
And when the lid blows? It’s usually not in a session—it’s in a hallway fight at 10pm over something that wasn’t the real issue anyway.
7. Convincing yourself you “don’t need to talk about it”
Cool.
Then why’s your chest tight?
Why are your shoulders always locked up?
Why do you keep snapping at people you love and apologizing later?
What you don’t talk about, your body carries.
8. Calling it stress, but really… it’s grief. Or guilt. Or burnout.
You’ve taken care of other people. Led them. Protected them.
But when’s the last time someone asked you what you needed?
When’s the last time you let yourself feel without needing to fix it?
That’s not weak. That’s real. That’s healing.
9. Saying “I’ll deal with it later.”
Later always turns into never.
Until something breaks.
Your relationship. Your body. Your ability to keep holding it all.
Don’t wait for the blow-up.
Don’t wait until it costs you more than your pride.
Here’s What You Actually Need:
A space that doesn’t judge.
A place to say what you really think without someone trying to fix you.
A space to breathe.
That’s therapy.
It’s not a weakness. It’s not a crisis move.
It’s the smartest damn decision you can make for yourself, your people, and your future.
You’ve done hard things.
You’ve handled everything for everyone else.
Now?
Handle this—for you.
📅 Book your first session
🖤 Virtual or in-person, real conversation, no BS.
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