About Raw & Real
This series is exactly what it sounds like—unpolished, honest reflections from my life and work. It’s where I step back from teaching and speak personally. Not as an expert, but as a man walking through the same things you are: building a family, leading a home, running a business, and trying to stay faithful through it all.
Every Saturday, I’ll share what I’m learning, wrestling with, or waking up to—lessons forged in the fires of real life. Not vulnerability for vulnerability’s sake, but honest insight with weight behind it.
If that’s something you want in your inbox, follow along. I’ll be here every week.
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For the past four years, I’ve made a full-time living through Masculine Revival. In that time, my wife has been home full-time, raising our children and building our family life with me. And interestingly, the parts of my work that have stood the test of time—the things that continue to produce fruit—are the same things I started with: one-on-one mentorship, couples coaching, and online men’s groups.
There have been seasons over these years when I got caught up in the drive for more. More reach, more revenue, more recognition. And looking back, I can see that in those times, I lost touch with myself. I let discontentment creep in and cloud my clarity. I thought I was striving towards more freedom, but often I was just striving away from what I actually cared about.
In the early days, I had something to prove—to myself, to the world, and to anyone who ever doubted me. Masculine Revival felt like the culmination of years of trying to put the pieces together. I finally had work that was meaningful, a sense of mission, the freedom to provide for my family on my own terms. But it also became something else: my identity. My measuring stick. My reason for being.
That can be a dangerous place for any man to live in.
There was a strong internal pressure to expand—launch products, grow a podcast, post more content, be more visible. And for a while, I thought that’s what I had to do. But the further I pushed in that direction, the more I realized something important: I’m not wired for the spotlight. I’m introverted by nature. I don’t want to be everywhere. I don’t want to be “a name.” I want to do work that matters, provide for my family, and keep my head down.
Since becoming Orthodox, that conviction has only deepened. I don’t need to be a “somebody.” I need to be faithful to what I’ve been given.
And yet, everything in the modern “personal development” world pulls men in the opposite direction. You’re told to always push, always grind, always expand. And while I believe in progress and the need to challenge yourself, I’ve learned there’s a fine line between growth and self-glorification. It’s possible to move forward in life without becoming consumed by the hustle.
The truth is, many men lose themselves in the pursuit of impact. They chase status, followers, influence—and they forget who they were before the audience showed up. I’ve watched it happen. It’s a seductive trap.
I don’t want that.
I want to live low to the ground. I want a simple life, rooted in what actually matters. I want to center my days around faith, fatherhood, marriage, and meaningful work—not chasing after things that will never provide lasting fulfillment.
Not everything that looks like success is good for the soul.
And not every man is called to be a voice for the world.
Some of us are called to be steady hands in the lives of a few.
And for me, that’s enough.
But everything about modern personal development and social media content runs counter to that authentic desire of mine.
The culture tells you to constantly speak, constantly contribute, constantly stay relevant. The pressure is to always have something to say, even when wisdom would say otherwise. And over time, that begins to shape how you see yourself.
You become a voice, a brand, a personality—not a man. And the danger in all of it is that it feels normal. But it’s not. It’s deeply unnatural to be endlessly visible and perpetually performing.
A simple life doesn’t necessarily mean a wasted life. It doesn’t mean you’ve abandoned your potential or shrunk from responsibility. It means you’ve chosen to center your energy on what matters most. For me, that’s Christ, my family, my work, and the quiet dignity of being faithful to what I’ve been given.
I'm not interested in being loud or endlessly relevant. I just want to live well, stay grounded, and serve where I’m called.
So don’t chase the noise. Don’t chase the numbers. Chase faithfulness.
Let the world chase the spotlight, while you chase substance.
In your corner,
Brendan
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For men and couples serious about growth and grounded transformation
Work with me:
→ Couples Coaching
→ 1:1 Men’s Mentorship
→ Brotherhood Groups
Really appreciating this series you’ve begun. Great insights and important things. Thank you for your service to the Lord and men.
I like how you're touching on the pitfalls of unchecked ambition. This is a great reminder to stay vigilant, and put your faith in something higher.