Clarity. Direction. Inner Authority.
I spent years performing the part of a successful man while feeling disconnected from who I actually was.
On the surface, everything looked fine. I showed up. I delivered. People relied on me. But underneath, I was seeking approval instead of leading myself. I was carrying other people's expectations like they were my own standards. I was saying yes when I meant no, then resenting it later.
That gap between who I appeared to be and who I actually was became unbearable.
The shift didn't come from working harder or achieving more. It came from stopping the performance and returning to what was already there - clarity about what I actually wanted, boundaries that protected it, and the inner authority to move forward without needing permission.
That's the work I do now. I help men close that gap.
You're Ready, You're Just Stuck
The men I work with aren't falling apart. They're functioning. They're competent. They're meeting expectations. But they know something's off.
You can feel the weight of living on autopilot, of optimising your life for everyone else's approval, of knowing you're capable of more but feeling unable to access it without blowing everything up.
Often it's Nice Guy Syndrome - the pattern where you keep the peace at your own expense, avoid conflict even when it costs you, and build your life around keeping everyone comfortable. Your own needs get buried. Your real voice gets muted. And slowly, your life starts to feel like you're executing someone else's script.
This isn't about fixing you - you're capable and strong. It's about excavating who you were before you learned to perform.
Where I Come From
I'm one of thirteen kids - same parents, no twins. Number five in the lineup, with ten brothers and two sisters.
My parents are American. They moved to Sydney in the late '70s with four kids, and I was the first born in Australia.
We grew up on acreage in rural NSW, homeschooled. I worked in shearing sheds as a roustabout when I was young, then later at a petrol station in brutal heat for six bucks an hour.
In a family that size, you learn to self-manage early - your parents love you, they see you, but they're stretched thin across thirteen lives, so you're expected to figure things out on your own.
That taught me something I use with every man I coach: you can't wait for someone to come save you. You have to build a relationship with yourself strong enough to trust your own decisions.
My dad used to say, "Control your life or your life will control you" - and he didn't mean it as motivation, he meant it as fact. If you don't choose your standards, habits, and direction, life chooses them for you.
Loss Changes You
When I was 25, my 14-year-old sister died from an undiagnosed heart anomaly. She was healthy one minute, gone the next.
That kind of loss doesn't leave room for philosophy. It's visceral, sudden, and it shatters any illusion that the world is fair or predictable. The aftermath was brutal. Grief carved through our family, and we held each other through it because that's what you do. But even with love and support, loss like that changes you permanently. You keep living, but the "before" version of things never comes back.
A couple years ago, my mother died after being diagnosed with advanced stages of three terminal illnesses. I spent her last day with her in the hospital - heartbroken and grateful at the same time.
She was a force. Top of her class, earned degrees on full academic scholarships, completed a doctorate while raising four kids and while my dad worked and studied full-time. My parents moved countries, bought 80 acres, lived in a caravan with eight kids while my dad built the log cabin that became our home. She gave birth to her thirteenth child at 44.
She taught me resilience, self-respect, and the importance of living on my own terms instead of conforming to someone else's blueprint.
These experiences shaped how I sit with men when life gets heavy. When something knocks you off course, you still have to show up - work still demands, people still rely on you, decisions still need to be made.
If you've been carrying weight quietly for a long time, I understand that. And I know how to help you move forward while honouring what you've been through.
Words and Reps
I've always been obsessed with words - with finding language for what we carry and turning it into something we can act on.
At 13, I wrote an 80,000-word fantasy novel. It started as a David Eddings knockoff, but I rewrote it obsessively for five years until it was mine.
At 16, I won a public speaking competition. The topic doesn't matter as much as what it taught me: when you find the words for what you've been carrying and say it out loud, you can finally do something about it.
At 18, I moved to Sydney for university. The first year was sensory overload - noise, speed, crowds, bright lights. I treated it like training, watching and listening and learning how to talk to people without overthinking every word.
That experience matters because most men don't need more information - they need more reps. They need to practice being the man they want to be until it becomes their normal.
Change Happens When You Decide
For years I was overweight and I'd try diets casually, but nothing stuck because I wasn't fully committed.
Then I hit a point where staying the same cost more than changing. I got serious about my diet and health and lost 24kg in six months.
That taught me something I bring to every client: change doesn't happen when you feel ready. It happens when you decide, then structure your life so the decision has teeth.
Six years ago, I returned to martial arts after dabbling in boxing and karate when I was younger, then drifting away in my 20s and 30s. My brother convinced me to join a 20-week MMA program with him; COVID shut it down halfway through, but it got me back to disciplined training.
Now I train Muay Thai kickboxing, Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and Krav Maga. It's taught me consistency, resilience, and humility. Results don't come from intention alone - they come from showing up, especially when you don't want to.
The Work
I'm trained in mindset and performance coaching, NLP, men's work facilitation, and therapeutic modalities. But credentials aren't what makes the work effective.
What makes it work is this: we get brutally clear on what you actually want. We identify the patterns keeping you stuck. Then we build simple systems, habits, and standards that match the life you say you want.
Clear direction. Honest reflection. Accountability that keeps you moving.
If you've been functioning without fulfillment, if you're ready to stop performing strength and start living it, book a call.
Bring the truth. We'll build a plan.
Training and Credentials
I'm trained in Coach Mastery through The Life Coaching College (Levels 1 & 2), NLP, and Matrix Therapies. The work is straightforward: get clear on what you want, identify what's keeping you stuck, then build the standards and habits that match the life you say you want
Why Men Work With Me
Men work with me because they're capable, and they're ready to move with clarity.
They want a calm, direct space to think, decide, and execute, with someone who can see what they can't see while they're inside it.
They work with me because I help them:
Get clear on what they actually want (and what matters right now), then turn it into a simple plan
Name what's actually keeping them stuck - under the busyness, overthinking, or "fine on paper" life
See their blind spots and patterns in plain language, with honesty and directness
Make strong decisions faster and follow through with standards they can live up to
Reset their direction when they feel stuck, reactive, or disconnected from themselves
Build momentum through specific next actions, accountability, and honest reflection
You're the one doing the work.
I'm the guide who helps you see clearly, tell the truth, and move decisively.
My role is to help you access the strength that's already there and use it on purpose.
