
Mapping Your Inner Path
How to Reflect on Your Own Masculine Journey
I was thirty-seven, standing in the produce aisle of a grocery store that smelled faintly of bleach and overripe bananas, when the thought hit me like a rogue shopping cart: Who the hell am I, anyway? My cart held two steaks, a six-pack, and a single sad onion. My phone buzzed with a text from my…
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