Warrior Training Begins

March 2025 was the month I stopped trying to survive my divorce and started training to become a Good Man.

That’s when I entered Warrior Training under mentor/coach Chris Miller “The Mechanic” and Ty Fighter, alongside a small band of four other men. I showed up nervous and fired up—thinking I was just going to battle the obvious stuff: the heartbreak, the anger, the pressure, the surface-level wreckage I could finally see.

But I hadn’t seen the program yet. I didn’t understand what I was stepping into. And I definitely didn’t realize how much I’d been missing—how much of my life had been built on autopilot… and how far I still had to forge.

I’m not going to lay out the full training here—and that’s on purpose.

Because a man doesn’t transform on handouts. He transforms when he has skin in the game. When he invests. When it costs him something. There’s a different kind of accountability when quitting means you’re walking away from something you bled for—financially, mentally, spiritually. And truthfully, it wouldn’t be right for me to give away what other warriors paid for with their own hard-earned money.

I’ve sweated, bled, and cried beside my brothers—locking shields, shoulder to shoulder. That bond can’t be bought… but it also can’t be given away like it’s nothing.

Week One: The Wake-Up Call

The first week was foundation: our Creed, the structure of the brotherhood, and how each week would be taught. But the real punch came from something simple—something I’d never truly understood:

Free will.

Our greatest ability as men is the ability to choose.

Not once.
Not occasionally.
Every day.

We make thousands of choices daily—and most of them happen without awareness. That means most men aren’t choosing their lives… they’re repeating them.

So let me pause you right here:

You are making a choice right now to read this. And whether you realize it or not, choices like this shape a man’s future. I didn’t see it back then—but I do now.

I wasn’t fully aware of how many choices I was making, and I definitely wasn’t aware that every single one of them had been shaping the life I was living. Even the small ones. Especially the small ones.

The Real Training: The Pen and the Blade

Then the real work began: training, accountability, and journaling.

Writing became one of the most powerful disciplines I’ve ever taken on. Once you grasp it, “the pen is mightier than the sword” stops being a quote and starts becoming a weapon.

Here’s why:

• We can think roughly 1,000 words per minute.

• We can type around 65–85 words per minute.

• But we can only write about 25–30 words per minute.

That means writing forces your mind to slow down. It makes you more intentional. More honest. More aware. It creates space between impulse and action—and in that space, a man learns to choose better.

That’s where my “Scorpion Fall” began—my descent into truth, and the climb into authenticity. And I’m writing this now in January 2026, on the other side of the fall… but still in the fight.

The Shock of Meeting Myself

What I learned about my authenticity nearly put me into shock.

Not because I discovered I was some kind of monster—though if I’m being real, there were plenty of ways I’d been selfish, cowardly, and sinful.

The shock was this:

My authentic self had been buried under a mask built for approval.

A life built on external validation creates a man who doesn’t actually know himself—because he’s never had to. He becomes whatever gets him acceptance. Whatever keeps the peace. Whatever gets him chosen.

And then I had to face a harder truth:

I had been a liar. A manipulator.
And it made painful sense why so many of my relationships had mirrored that back to me.

Not because I was cursed.
Because I was unhealed.

The Questions That Changed Everything

That first week opened a door I couldn’t unsee. It introduced the questions that started rebuilding my life from the inside:

• How is my relationship with myself?

• Who am I?

• Do I even like myself?

• Would I date myself?

• Would I be friends with myself?

• What would change if I had a stronger relationship with myself?

• Do I love myself?

• How can I love myself if I don’t even like myself?

• Am I kind to myself?

• Do I give to myself?

• What am I doing to improve myself?

Those questions weren’t “one and done.” They became a rhythm. A monthly check-in. A mirror I return to so I don’t drift back into the old mask.

And if you’re reading this—STOP.
Go back. Write those questions down. Answer them.

Because self-relationship isn’t a luxury. It’s the foundation. And it’s right there in Rule Two:

Love others the way you want to be loved—and love yourself the way you want others to love you too.

What I Knew After Week One

By the end of the first week, I didn’t have answers—but I had clarity. And clarity is the beginning of war.

Here’s what I knew for certain:

1. I don’t know who I am.

2. I’ve been a “Nice Guy” and people-pleaser my entire life.

3. Everything has led to this moment.

4. My default program is destroying my life.

And that’s where the Pathbreaker story really begins—when a man finally admits the truth… and chooses to fight his way back.