Life has a way of punching us in the face.
(Or, in Anakin’s case, cutting off all our limbs and setting us on fire.)
Maybe your partner blindsided you. Maybe you lost something you worked for. Maybe the woman you loved—the one you built your whole world around—pulled away, left, or stopped seeing you the way she used to.
Now, you’re standing in the wreckage, and deep down, you feel limbless and powerless.
That’s where it starts.
And if you don’t wake up now, you’re about to make the same mistake Anakin Skywalker did.
Because here’s the truth:
Men who don’t heal always destroy–eventually.
They don’t just hurt themselves—they burn everything to the ground. (Just ask the younglings.)
And it happens the same way every time.
The Hard Truth: You Only Have Two Choices
Right now, if this is you, you’re standing in the mess of your life, you are in the grip of a decision that will define the man you become:
- Will you become the Villain?
- Or will you become the Victor?
That’s it. Those are the only two roads out of here.
And the hardest part? Most men don’t even realize they’ve already made a choice.
Because here’s the truth most men don’t want to hear:
There is no “do nothing” option.
Passivity is a choice.
And it is a choice that puts you squarely on the Villain’s path.
You don’t have to rage or lash out to end up there—you just have to do what most men do:
- Sit in your pain.
- Refuse to process it.
- Convince yourself that it’s someone else’s fault.
- Wait for something outside of you to change.
That’s all it takes.
Because every victim who refuses to self-rescue eventually becomes the villain.
Not all at once.
Not in some dramatic, obvious way.
At first, it feels justified.
At first, it feels like you’re fighting for what’s right.
You tell yourself you’ve been wronged.
You tell yourself you’re only reacting to what was done to you.
You think if you just push back hard enough, control the situation, or prove your worth—things will go back to the way they were.
But they won’t.
Because this is exactly how it happens.
Not just to you.
Not just to other men.
But to every man who has ever walked this road before you.
And no story captures it more perfectly than the fall of Anakin Skywalker.
What Is “Anakin Skywalker Syndrome”?
Anakin Skywalker Syndrome (“ASS”) is a condition I once had—and one I see in far too many men.
It happens to men who seem to have everything going for them.
Strength. Talent. Purpose. A community that respects them.
But none of that matters.
Because underneath it all, they’re just wounded boys searching for validation–and I say that with compassion, not to shame.
I use Anakin because it’s such a clear picture. Even my three daughters, despite thinking Anakin is cute, recognize the unhealthy, unattractive, and cringy patterns in his life. (They’ll all tell you having a men’s coach dad has ruined movies and music for them!)
Anakin is a sad story, because he never developed his own solid, grounded masculine identity.
Instead, he built his world around his attachment to Padmé—his source of validation, safety, and worth.
He never faced his own insecurity. He craved power, not because he wanted to lead, but because he was terrified of being weak and alone. He saw being esteemed and respected as the path to feeling worthy of Padmé’s love, and her love as necessary for his own self-acceptance.
He was ruled by his emotions. And the deeper his fear and resentment grew, the more he felt justified in his anger, his rage, and ultimately… his destruction.
This is how good men become villains.
And if it’s happening to you right now, maybe you already know it.
The Addicted Lover: Why Anakin Was Doomed from the Start
Anakin didn’t love Padmé—he needed her.
There’s a difference.
A man who truly loves a woman stands firm in himself. He sees her, appreciates her, and connects with her without becoming dependent on her. Deep, lasting love is not possessive. It does not consume. It sets things free, not on fire.
But Anakin?
- He was desperate for her approval.
- He was terrified of losing her.
- He believed that if she left, he would be nothing.
This is the feminine-based identity.
It’s what happens when a man never develops his own solid, masculine sense of self and instead makes a woman the core of his identity.
And when that external source of validation is threatened?
He panics. He fights. He lashes out.
He blames her for making him feel weak, hates himself for not being stronger, and then does exactly what Anakin did—burns everything to the ground.
You can probably think of a real-life example just as easily.
A man who let his bitterness take over.
A man who let his pain consume him.
A man who lost everything because he refused to process his suffering.
That’s the Villain’s path.
And it’s the road you are already on if you are not making a deliberate choice to turn around.
5. The Descent: When Love Turns to Hatred
Anakin Skywalker started as a man desperate to protect the person he thought he loved the most.
But by the end, he was choking the life out of her.
That’s the Villain’s Path.
And I see men walk it every single day.
They start out like cute, sweet, dimple-cheeked Anakin, then they become deeply attached, deeply invested, deeply afraid of loss. They believe their love is unbreakable because it feels so powerful.
But then, things start to shift.
Maybe she pulls away emotionally. Maybe she stops admiring him the way she used to. Maybe she leaves.
And instead of facing their pain—instead of grieving, healing, and rebuilding themselves—they do what Anakin did:
They make her the enemy.
- “She betrayed me.”
- “She led me on.”
- “She’s the reason I feel this way.”
Men in this state feel completely justified in their blame, their bitterness, and their wrath.
Just like Anakin did.
When Padmé confronted him on Mustafar, she wasn’t fighting him. She wasn’t attacking him. She was begging him to stop.
But he couldn’t see it.
His paranoia, resentment, and pain had already rewritten reality in his mind.
- He accused her of betraying him.
- He believed she had turned against him.
- He lashed out, convinced that he was the victim.
And in the end? He became the reason he lost everything.
This is exactly what I see men do.
At first, we just feel hurt. Rejected. Powerless.
But then, we start feeding the story in our minds:
- “She never loved me.”
- “She was just using me.”
- “She’s selfish, manipulative, and cruel.”
And before we know it, the woman we once cherished becomes the villain in our minds.
We don’t just resent her.
We don’t just blame her.
We hate her.
And once a man reaches that point, we’re capable of destruction.
We may not force-choke her like Anakin, but left unchecked, we will burn everything down in our rage:
- We’ll sabotage our relationship beyond repair.
- We’ll lash out at her in ways we’ll regret.
- We’ll turn cold, bitter, and vengeful—ruining not just our connection with her, but our own life.
And like Anakin, we won’t even realize we were the one holding the match.
Every Villain Thinks He’s Justified
No Anakin thinks he’s becoming Darth Vader. No man thinks he’s becoming the villain.
Every man in this downward spiral believes he’s right.
That’s what makes it so dangerous.
I see it all the time—good men, strong men, men who once loved deeply, turning into venomous, wrathful, bitter shells of themselves.
And the worst part?
They think they’re getting stronger when they’re actually crumbling.
- They think hardening themselves makes them untouchable—when really, it just makes them miserable.
- They think anger is power—when really, it’s just pain with armor on.
- They think lashing out at her will make her regret what she did—when really, it only ensures she never looks back.
This is the final stage of the Villain’s Path.
Anakin thought he was saving Padmé.
Then he blamed Padmé.
Then…
He killed Padmé.
That’s what happens when we refuse to heal.
Maybe not literally.
Maybe not physically.
But the moment we let our wounds turn to wrath, we kill whatever love was left.
I see it all the time.
And I know because I almost did it myself.
No, I don’t mean I almost killed my wife. But, to be honest, there were many days I wished she’d die (or that I would). I know how awful that is, but that’s how deep the darkness was. I was miserable, and a deeply hurt, wounded, and addicted lover.
I was right at the brink, ready to burn it all to the ground.
Then I met an Obi-Wan. Then a Yoda.
That’s when my story changed from the path of Anakin Skywalker to Luke Skywalker.
The Three Destinations: Mustafar, Ahch-To, or Naboo?
Every man is headed toward one of three places.
Most don’t realize it.
we think we’re just reacting to life—navigating circumstances, dealing with problems as they come.
But the truth?
Every choice, every reaction, every moment of passivity or action is steering you toward a destination.
And there are only three:
1. Mustafar – The Wasteland of Rage & Destruction
This is where we let our pain consume us.
- Where bitterness, blame, and resentment fester until they turn us into the very thing we swore we’d never become.
- Where we burn our life to the ground—our relationships, our confidence, our peace.
- Where we become so blinded by our pain that we don’t realize we’re the one holding the match.
- This is where Anakin lost himself.
- This is where I lost myself.
And this is where most men stay.
Because Mustafar doesn’t require work.
It’s easy to stay angry.
It’s easy to keep blaming.
It’s easy to see yourself as the victim.
And that’s why most men never leave.
2. Ahch-To – The Island of Reflection & Mastery
This is where a man steps away, faces himself, and rebuilds.
- Where he stops trying to control others and starts learning to master himself.
- Where he stops fighting, blaming, and justifying his failures and instead takes responsibility.
- Where he learns that power isn’t found in controlling outcomes—but in mastering his own response to them.
This is where Luke Skywalker fled when he lost his way and realized he had to change.
And for the men who make it here?
They get their clarity back.
But Ahch-To is not the final destination.
A man cannot stay in isolation forever.
3. Naboo – The Land of Thriving & Connection
This is where a man fully steps into the life he was meant to live.
- Where he’s no longer defined by loss, fear, or resentment—but by clarity, strength, and deep connection.
- Where love isn’t desperate and needy but strong and vibrant.
- Where he isn’t just healed—he’s thriving.
This is where a man re-enters the world—not as a wounded, resentful shell of himself, but as a leader, a creator, and a man capable of deep, genuine connection.
This is where life happens.
Most men never get past Mustafar.
Some men wake up and go to Ahch-To.
But the ones who do the real work? They don’t just heal. They build. They create. They live.
Those men? They build their lives on Naboo.
The Villain’s Path: Mustafar, the Wasteland of Destruction
Mustafar first appears in Revenge of the Sith as the final battleground of Anakin Skywalker’s fall.
It’s a volcanic wasteland—burning, chaotic, violent. A place where nothing grows—only burns.
It was on Mustafar that:
- Anakin Skywalker, once a promising Jedi, fully transformed into Darth Vader.
- He slaughtered his allies, turned on his wife, and severed his last ties to the man he once was.
- He faced Obi-Wan Kenobi and lost everything—his limbs, his power, his future.
And the reason he ended up there?
Because he wouldn’t let go of his pain.
Like many men, Anakin started with real wounds—loss, disappointment, frustration, unfairness.
- He lost his mother.
- He was told to suppress his emotions.
- He felt overlooked, unappreciated, and misunderstood.
And instead of learning how to face that pain–and transform it into growth, he let it fester into resentment.
At first, he thought he was fighting for what was right.
He thought his pain justified his anger.
He thought taking control would bring him peace.
But the deeper he walked down that path, the more the fire consumed him.
By the time he reached Mustafar, he was no longer Anakin Skywalker.
Just a man standing in the flames—furious, broken, and utterly alone.
This is what happens when a man chooses bitterness, blame, and control over healing.
And I almost did the same.
For a long time, I was walking straight toward Mustafar.
- I let every disappointment chip away at my belief in something better.
- I let every unmet expectation make me question if I was a fool for hoping.
- I let every frustration that made me feel powerless convince me I had to take control—force my way forward.
I thought I was getting stronger by shutting down.
I thought my anger meant I was fighting back.
I thought if I just got control, I’d feel whole again.
But Mustafar doesn’t restore you.
It burns you to the ground.
It’s the path where love turns to hatred.
Where a good man convinces himself he’s the victim.
Where we destroy everything we set out swearing to ourselves and others that we were fighting for.
That’s where Anakin ended up.
That’s where I was headed.
Until I turned around.
The Victor’s Path: Ahch-To, the Place of Clarity
While Mustafar represents self-destruction, rage, and fire, Ahch-To represents self-mastery, reflection, and water.
Ahch-To first appears in The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi as Luke Skywalker’s place of retreat—a remote, oceanic planet, peaceful, untouched, ancient.
And perhaps it’s no accident that this is a planet of water.
Because water is emotion.
The ocean is deep, vast, and powerful—just like the emotions a man must face when he stops running.
- Still waters reflect clarity.
- Waves crash like the turbulence of grief, fear, and self-doubt.
- Depth conceals what has been buried—the hidden pain a man avoids.
Ahch-To is the place where a man enters the ocean of his own soul and either learns to navigate it—or drowns.
The Work of Ahch-To: Entering the Emotional Depths
Unlike Anakin, Luke also saw unfairness and disappointment.
- His family was killed.
- His mentors didn’t always give him answers.
- He was constantly underestimated, overlooked, and doubted.
But instead of letting his wounds turn to wrath, he sought wisdom.
Instead of gripping for power, he searched for clarity.
Instead of taking his pain out on others, he took responsibility for himself.
That’s why Ahch-To is the opposite of Mustafar.
Mustafar is anger, fire, destruction.
Ahch-To is water, reflection, mastery, transformation.
And yet—Ahch-To is not a place a man visits only once.
Because mastery isn’t something you achieve in a single moment.
It’s a lifelong process.
Just like the ocean, your emotions are always in motion.
New challenges will come.
New wounds will open.
New storms will rise.
And when they do, a man must return to Ahch-To.
Not as a victim.
Not as a man who is lost.
But as a man who knows that to stay strong, he must step into the ocean of himself again and again.
Most Men Don’t Choose Ahch-To.
Because it requires something Mustafar doesn’t.
🔥 Mustafar is easy. You just burn.
🌊 Ahch-To is hard. You have to swim.
You have to face yourself.
And that’s the hardest thing a man will ever do.
It’s easier to fight, blame, or shut down than it is to sit alone with your pain and ask yourself the hard questions:
- What if the problem isn’t her—but me?
- What if my anger isn’t power—but weakness?
- What if the only way forward is to let go?
Mustafar feeds your rage.
Ahch-To forces you to master it.
Mustafar burns everything down.
Ahch-To builds something new.
That’s the Victor’s path.
And it’s the only way out of Mustafar.
It’s the only way a man reclaims:
- His peace.
- His power.
- His ability to create instead of destroy.
I chose Ahch-To.
Not because it was easy.
But because I finally saw where the other road led.
And if you’re standing in the same place I was, you have to see it too—before it’s too late.
Naboo: The Place of Festive Connection & Thriving
But Ahch-To is not the final destination.
I don’t live on an oceanic island.
Ahch-To is where I sometimes go to understand and reclaim lost opaque parts of myself.
But Naboo?
This is where life mostly happens.
Because there’s a difference between tending to the areas that need healing and actually building something worth living for.
Naboo is the place of creation, celebration, and thriving (and it can’t be done without spending some time in Ahch-To along the way.)
It’s where a man isn’t just at peace with himself—he’s alive.
Naboo is where men thrive.
It’s where:
- Love grows instead of burns.
- Masculine strength is steady and life-giving—not controlling and bitter.
- A man enjoys, connects, and celebrates.
This is where a man no longer feels like he has to grip onto control just to survive.
Instead, he is grounded, unshakable, and free.
This is the life we actually want.
Breathless Again: The Life That Awaits Beyond Ahch-To
If you’d asked me ten years ago if I thought it was possible to feel giddy, excited, and breathless about my life and my wife again—even after three decades together—I’d have laughed.
No way. That stuff fades, right?
That’s what I thought, too.
But that’s not what happened.
Because when we step beyond Ahch-To and into Naboo, we experience something different.
Something real.
Earlier this week, my wife and I had a moment where we were both a little breathless from one another.
Not because we’re still kids.
Not because we’re living in some fairy tale.
But because I became the kind of man who could create that.
No more darkness. No more stank. No more feeling like a prisoner in my own life.
Just lightness, closeness, and real desire.
Because I walked off the Villain’s path to Mustafar, through Ahch-To, and into Naboo.
And this is what happens when any of us chooses mastery, does the work, and builds the life we actually want.
We don’t chase connection.
we don’t grasp for love.
We create it.
This is what’s waiting for you.
The Final Challenge: Where Are You Headed?
Every man chooses a destination.
Mustafar → Burning, blaming, and destroying.
Ahch-To → Reflecting, rebuilding, and growing.
Naboo → Thriving, leading, and celebrating.
But most men never actually make a choice.
They assume life is just happening to them.
And without realizing it, they wake up in Mustafar—furious, bitter, and broken.
Because if you don’t choose your path, Mustafar chooses for you.
So, where are you walking?
Because this isn’t just about Star Wars.
This is about your life.
Your marriage.
Your leadership.
Your peace.
Your legacy.
You are already headed somewhere.
The only question is: Where?
Your Move: Will You Stay an Anakin or Become a Luke Skywalker?
Now, you have a decision.
You can keep doing what most men do.
You can stay on Mustafar.
You can keep justifying your pain, blaming others, and letting bitterness lead you.
And two years from now, you’ll be even angrier, even lonelier, and even more stuck than you are now.
Or?
You can leave Mustafar, walk into Ahch-To, and build your life in Naboo.
You can become the man who thrives, leads, and creates the life he actually wants.
And if you’re serious about taking that path?
👉 Would a 12-month, $4,000 journey through Ahch-To be a reasonable investment to become the man who can live in Naboo?
It starts with a two-month, $2,000 intensive to get you off Mustafar.
From there, you can continue with small-group mentoring for ten months—or go one intensive at a time.
If you’re ready to make the commitment, apply now for the two-month intensive and take your first real step forward.
If that still feels too big?
👉 Start with my book, Resentment to Reconnection.
But whatever you do—don’t wait.
Because not choosing is a choice.
And if you’re not careful, you’ll wake up one day and realize: You became Darth Vader.
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