I’ve just gotten off a call that took me almost 30 minutes to end.
I’m currently sitting at the edge of my bed, staring down at my white socks covering my black knee-length socks.
Yes, I wear two pairs sometimes — especially in the winter.
I get cold easily. My feet, that is, not my heart. That one stays warm. Sometimes lukewarm, but never cold. And when it gets hot, it gets hot.
But this particular post isn’t really about my heart… maybe a little bit, maybe a lot. I don’t know. We’ll find out together.

It’s another Wednesday.
I believe this might be my third Wednesday in a row posting on my blog, which makes me very happy. I need to cook — finish cooking, actually — because I have some travel coming up and I need to pack. Normally I’d have started packing early, but since it’s a short weekend trip and the outfits are already decided by the events, it’s easier to pack later.

But I wanted to talk a little about my heart and what I’ve been feeling — not in the way you may expect. So pay attention, stay close, and welcome to another Words on Wednesday with your gracious host, The Wordsmith. Writing that out actually made me think… huh, I really need to bring my podcast back.
So is that a 2025 thing I can still make happen, or will it be early 2026?

I’ve been thinking — especially on International Men’s Day — about what it means to be a man. People love to throw out terms like “provider” and “protector,” but I think there’s so much more to being a man, and even more to being a good man. So let’s go through some of the things I’ve been reflecting on.

The heart can carry so much. I’ve realized I hold in a lot in the name of protecting or caring for those around me. My voice is often silenced, and that’s an incredible burden — carrying the weight of other people’s feelings because of their behavior. How come no one thinks about how unfair that is?

So yes, I bite my tongue when I should speak, because sometimes it doesn’t feel worth the aftermath. A few weeks ago, I wrote that people often want to “talk things out” simply because they don’t want to do the work of thinking on their own. People pour out energy because someone else refuses to sit with themselves and say, “Maybe I’m the one messing up.”

A lot of men, like myself, are required to be silent about what we truly feel. It’s expected — you’re supposed to just eat it. I’ve never understood this idea that men are meant to move through the world as if we’re always wrong. Maybe some people believe that, maybe there’s a little truth in it, but it’s not something I’m accepting as fact.

As I go into this next year, it’s important that I approach the world with a sense of duty — not just to others, not just to people I care about, but a duty to myself. A duty to say, “No, I will not burden myself with this or that.” I deserve that. I truly do.
I want to pour more energy into that in the coming year, to make sure I’m approaching this phase of adulthood differently.

Being a man, to me, is also understanding your triggers — the obvious ones and the quiet ones that creep in. It’s being able to acknowledge where the world has hurt or failed you, but also choosing to be more than what the world gave you. We owe that to ourselves. I owe that to me. You owe that to you.

Being a man is nurturing healthy relationships, creating healthy communities, and building spaces where you can be the best kind of man you can be. It’s standing on your integrity even when challenges come. It’s saying, “This is who I am,” and not wavering at your core.

It’s also recognizing where responsibility is required of you — not to be silent, not to be passive, not to simply accept what’s handed to you, but to step into the void and be more for those around you. Many of you are gifted, blessed in ways you see and in ways you don’t. But many of us wait for the perfect moment to be impactful.

People tell me all the time, “Oh, what you’re doing with your give-back is so cool. I’d love to do something like that, but I haven’t found the opportunity.” And I always say: the first year, we started with five kids. Five. Now we stand in rooms with dozens. It wasn’t from chasing perfection — it was from starting. One day became two, two became three, and suddenly we were impacting kids across cities, across levels of life.

There’s a kid in your YMCA. There’s a kid in your church. They could use your insight, your confidence, your lens. Why hold that back?

Being a man is about kindness — not just kindness to the world, but kindness to yourself. Many of us were raised to be extremely critical of ourselves. We need to remind ourselves that we are not just worthy, but deserving. You deserve someone who sees you, who cares for you, who holds space for you. You deserve that. We deserve that.

Being a man is not just about the small pockets you occupy — it’s also about the big ones. It’s about stepping into spaces that remind you that you are valuable, important, and defined.

Please don’t believe that being a man means carrying all the weight alone. One thing I intend to work on next year is asking for help. Asking for help has been extremely difficult for me — not because I don’t want help, but because I’ve been let down so many times, even by well-intentioned people.
It’s caused heartache to realize I couldn’t rely on people I cared about. But it’s something I can improve on. Something I should do better with. I need to ask for help.

This is the busiest, most demanding period of my life so far — and I don’t even have kids. What happens when I do? I don’t want to think about that right now, but you get my point. We can do more for ourselves. We should do more with ourselves.

So before this month ends, do something fun for you. Get a massage. Take a walk. Buy yourself something nice. Black Friday is around the corner — take advantage.
Do something that reminds you your existence is not just to provide and protect.
It is to live.
It is to laugh.
It is to be hugged and to hug.
It is to love and to be loved.
It is to give and to be received.
It is to build, expand, deepen, strengthen, amplify.
Your existence is for joy.

You are a man. And today, and every day, I salute you for doing your part — for doing just a little more to become the man you want to be and the man beyond that.

Till we speak again, keep your head up. My heart is with you. My thoughts are with you.
You fully deserve to be happy.

Happy International Men’s Day. ❤️

Please leave me a comment, repost and share. Thank you for your continued support.
You are highly appreciated.

#WordsOfWednesday

© 2025 #WhatTheHeckMan

“Ki lo n wa kiri?”

— What Are You Looking for All Over the Place?

Growing up, you would hear your mom, caregiver, auntie, or uncle say, “Ki lo n wa kiri?” — which in Yoruba means, “What are you looking for all over the place?” It’s usually said when you’re being scattered, disoriented, or not paying attention.

That phrase applies deeply to this moment in my life — as I think about the pain, heartbreak, and frustration I’ve experienced in adulthood, whether romantically or in platonic situations.

Recently, as I approached the end of my yearly self-review — which I highly encourage everyone to do — I began reflecting on my goals, ambitions, and the conversations I’ve had with myself. While heartbreak, frustration, pain, joy, and loss have all been recurring themes this year, I’ve realized that much of my heartache came from ignoring my inner voice.

I’m at an age now where I know myself well. I can tell quickly if someone or something deserves a place in my life. I can also tell when something or someone is just a placeholder — a distraction from doing genuine healing.

There were seasons in my past where I stumbled from one situation to another, more focused on staying busy than getting better. But this year, I’ve truly embraced solitude. I’ve learned to sit with myself, to reflect deeply on who I am and who I want to become.

It’s not enough to write down goals or talk about growth — execution matters. You owe it to yourself to give your future self the best chance possible. As I reviewed this year, I realized I don’t need to apologize for certain interactions or spaces. If anything, I owe it to myself to step away from places and people that don’t uplift me or bring me closer to my goals.

If you take one thing away from this blog, let it be this:
Whatever action you’re about to take, ask yourself —
Does it get me closer or farther from my goals?
Does it give me clarity, confirmation, or guidance?
If not, maybe it’s time to start healing and pulling yourself out of that space.

It’s so easy to just exist — to tolerate “good enough.” But I did a personal audit recently and realized there’s an area of my life where I’ve settled. I’ve tolerated situations that didn’t bring me comfort or care because I felt I wasn’t good enough. That ends now.

As I move into the summer of 2026, I’m holding myself even more accountable. I’ve noticed how often I’m tired — stretched in directions I don’t need to be. I need to be in spaces that pour into me and remind me of my worth.

I’m currently on a weight-loss cut — part of a journey I’ve been on for a few years. It’s had its ups and downs, but one truth has remained: I’m committed to my evolution. I’ve said it before — discipline is one of the greatest acts of self-love. Discipline is a love letter to your future self. It’s saying, “I love you enough to sacrifice today’s comfort so you can thrive tomorrow.”

Someone recently asked if I’d ever consider surgery or weight-loss aids like Ozempic. Honestly, I’ve had moments of temptation — it’s hard not to when you see others take shortcuts. But there’s something powerful about proving your love to yourself through the work.

This week alone, two strangers complimented me — saying I’m slimming down and looking stronger. External validation is nice, but internal confirmation is everything. When I look in the mirror, I know I worked for this. I prayed, sacrificed, and stayed disciplined to become who I am today.

That’s what I mean when I talk about love letters to your future self.

I’ve said before (I think I have) that I want my kids to have the most well-rounded dad possible. I love my father deeply — he’s one of the smartest, most grounded men I know. He taught me what depth looks like. I always say, drop my dad anywhere in the world and he’ll connect with people instantly. I love that about him — and I’ve picked that up too.

But I want to take it further. I want my kids to inherit a graduated version of that. As I write this, I’m approaching 40 countries visited in 34 years — something my dad never had the chance to do. That’s progress.

My dad’s stories are about sourcing materials in Argentina, managing production lines in Italy, and building a business from the ground up after sending himself to school in Manchester. He also passed down our shared love for Manchester United — and yes, we’re starting to win again. You’ve all been warned.

This journey — of growth, travel, and self-reflection — is my love letter to my wife, my kids, my extended family, and my community. I love when people call on me for knowledge or support. It’s important to keep investing in myself so I can continue to pour into others.

What is one way you are writing a love letter to your future self?

So back to the surgery conversation — I thought about it, I considered it. But I’m committed to doing the work. The only “surgery” I’ve joked about is maybe something cosmetic down the line (a little platelet boost so the abs show faster), but truthfully, I’m too dedicated to this process to skip steps.

I want to look back one day and say, “I built this.”
I want my wife and kids to see me and believe they can conquer anything — because their father did.

This isn’t just about having the best body or money or stamps in my passport. I want it all to be authentic.

This morning, as I got ready for the gym, I burst into praise and worship. I thought about how much I love my parents and how that ritual — morning worship — shaped me. Growing up, we’d all sing together, and as we got older, we each took turns leading. It taught me confidence, gratitude, and reverence.

I can’t wait to give that same experience to my own kids — to raise them in love, faith, and self-awareness.

So today, ask yourself:
What kind of love letter are you writing to your future self?
What conversations will your future self thank you for?

Remember, this is a process. Evolution takes time. Don’t cut corners. Don’t forget — you deserve the best version of you, even before the rest of the world meets that person.

Till next time, stay up.

Thank you for reading!



Please leave me a comment, repost and share. Thank you for your continued support.
You are highly appreciated.

#WordsOfWednesday

© 2025 #WhatTheHeckMan