I am not going to do that.
I am going to tell you who I am, what I do, and what I am offering. You decide.
My name is Bob Groves. I am 62. I live in North Carolina.
I work with about twelve men a year. One on one. By design. That is not changing.
No groups. No brotherhood. No cold plunge weekends. No men's retreat where we sit in a circle and lift logs. I think that stuff is bogus. If that is what you want, there are plenty of guys selling it, and they are good at selling it.
I am a different animal.
Seventeen years ago, I was a pastor of a church in Virginia. It was a man's church where bikers, Hell's Angels, guys nobody else wanted to deal with all attended. I was good at speaking their language and impacting their lives. I was respected. From the outside, I was the guy you would have asked for directions.
Seventeen years ago, I had an affair.
I lost the church.
I almost lost my marriage.
I lost the reputation.
I lost the version of me that other people had been buying, and the version of me I had been selling to myself.
I rebuilt from zero. Took years. I paid a man further down the road than I was, out of money I didn't have, to help me extract what I needed to learn from the wreckage. Not so I could "share my story." Because I needed to understand, in my own head, how I had gotten to where I had gotten.
That work, that quiet, multi-year reckoning, became the foundation of what I do now.
I have sat with men carrying worse. I have been the man carrying worse.
I tell you this for one reason.
There is a voice somewhere in your head right now whispering, what I am carrying is too much, too embarrassing, or too complicated for some guy in North Carolina to handle.
I do not flinch. I do not judge. I do not pretend I have been somewhere I have not.
That is the baseline. That is the floor. That is the only credential that matters in this work.