My dear men, help!

As a man, "help" was always one of the hardest words for me. 

It was a sign of weakness. Inadequacy. Stupidity. 

What if they took advantage of me in this vulnerable state? Used it against me? What if I lost my edge? My strength? My positioning in this relationship?

The thought alone would shut me down. A collapsing inward. 

But, the more I dive into the masculine, the more I find a completely different meaning of "help."

Strength, fellowship, power, acceptance and growth. Rapid growth. 


Because the smallness of male programming has to die.  If I want to achieve a goal, would I not do everything in my power to do just that? To shed any little egoic thought that blocks me from victory. 

It is ludicrous to think I can do it alone. To know it all. To have all the answers. To excel at everything. 

When I find myself asking for "help," I am utterly blown away by the response. Usually a resounding YES. And if it's a NO, I admire that. Because that is them owning their time and space. 

The more "help" comes, the bigger leaps I can take. The more I can do of what I want to do. The more my life becomes fluid and solid. The more time devoted achieving the things I am good at as opposed to toiling away at the things I'm not. 

"Help", my dear men, is not weakness. It is strength beyond compare. 

It is masculinity at its finest.



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