You’re There But You’re Not Really There

I used to think being in the room was enough. That showing up, saying the right things, ticking the boxes of a good partner or parent or friend would count for something. And on the outside, it probably looked like I was doing alright. But inside? I was somewhere else entirely.

I wasn’t with them, I was just near them.

I’d nod along, throw in the odd comment, keep the conversation alive just enough to avoid being called out. But my attention was scattered. My mind was solving work problems, replaying arguments, rehearsing future plans and planning an escape from the moment I was already in.

I’d tell myself it was fine. I was tired, stressed and busy and they should understand. I was providing, I was building and I was doing it for them.

But the truth? I had no idea how to actually be with them.

I Forgot How to Land

There’s this moment I remember clearly. Sitting across the table from someone I loved and watching them talk. I saw their mouth move but I couldn’t hear a word, well not properly. My brain was somewhere else. My body was sitting there, but my presence was gone.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care, I just didn’t know how to stay.

Somewhere along the way, I learned it wasn’t safe to be fully here. That being present meant I’d have to feel, and feeling had always been something I avoided. So instead, I got good at disappearing.

Zoning out became normal and half-listening became my default. The more I disappeared, the more the people around me started to drift too.

They Stop Reaching After a While

At first, they try. They ask you to pay attention, they get upset, they want you back. But when nothing changes, they slowly start to give up. They lower their expectations and they fill the space you leave behind with other things.

You don’t even notice it happening. Not straight away.

It doesn’t come as a big dramatic crash. It’s quiet, it's subtle, a slow fading of connection. A slow loss of closeness. And by the time you realise you’ve lost them, they’re already halfway out the door emotionally.

This Is What I Had to Rewire in Me

It wasn’t about switching off my phone or booking more time off, it was deeper than that. I had to get honest about why I couldn’t stay in the moment. Why stillness felt dangerous and why my nervous system was always braced for something to go wrong.

That’s what Rewired for Men is really about.

Not fixing you. Not making you meditate more. But helping you feel safe enough to land.

So you can sit across from the people you love and actually be there.

So you stop surviving the moment and start living in it.

So you finally remember what it feels like to feel close again.

Let me know when you're ready to come back home to yourself.