Dear Uncle Gary, I’m 19 and live with my parents. My brother (32) and his girlfriend, she’s either 21 or 22- I live about 15 minutes away, but they stayed with us this weekend for my dad’s birthday. My brother and I aren’t very close, and I haven’t talked much with his girlfriend, but she seems nice. We’re close in age, and we go to the same college, so I could actually see us becoming friends. (The age gap between her and my brother is a little weird, especially since she’s basically my age, but he’s my brother, if he’s happy, I try not to judge.) Last night, my brother decided they were going out for drinks. My parents were already asleep, and his girlfriend didn’t seem excited about going; it was already 10 or 11 p.m., but I didn’t say anything. Not my place. I stayed up working on school stuff in the kitchen. Around 1:30 or 2 a.m., I heard them come back. They passed through the kitchen, and his girlfriend was clearly very drunk, slurring, stumbling, barely able to walk. I asked if she was okay, and my brother said she was fine, that they’d “only had a couple drinks.” He seemed eager to get her downstairs to the basement, where they were staying. Something felt off. She was way more drunk than he was letting on, but I brushed it aside. About 10 minutes later, I heard a phone ringing on the counter. I ignored it at first, but it kept ringing. When I checked, it was her phone, three missed calls from “mommy.” That struck me as odd. My own mom would never call me three times at 2 a.m. unless it was serious. When it rang again, I decided to bring it down to her. I knocked before heading downstairs, but since the phone was still ringing, I didn’t wait long. As I started down, I heard grunting noises that abruptly stopped, followed by rustling. That’s when it hit me what I was walking into. I immediately stopped and apologized, saying I was just bringing her phone because someone kept calling. My brother said it was fine and told me to come down. When I got to the bottom, he was standing there in a towel, looking more than just embarrassed; he looked nervous. His girlfriend was under the covers, seemingly naked, and definitely either asleep or passed out. I hesitated, but the smell in the room confirmed what had been going on. I handed him the phone and went straight back upstairs. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She had been so drunk she could barely stand, and he seemed totally sober. It made me feel really uncomfortable, especially since she’s basically my age. I didn’t know what to do. I hadn’t seen anything directly, but my gut was screaming that something wasn’t right. I ended up telling my mom in the morning because I couldn’t shake the feeling. Later, my brother came upstairs alone. I said hi and went to my room. I overheard my mom talking to him quietly, and a few minutes later, he came into my room looking angry. He accused me of making up serious stuff I didn’t understand and told me to stay out of his business. I told him I wasn’t accusing him of anything, I just felt uneasy about what I saw. I said if I were in her position, I’d want someone to speak up. That only made him angrier. He told me I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about and stormed off. When they both came upstairs later, he wouldn’t let me talk to her. Her eyes looked bloodshot, maybe from crying, maybe just tired, I couldn’t tell. Then he rushed them out, saying they were going to eat. They’ve come back since, and she clearly looks like she doesn’t want to be near him. I tried to talk to her a few minutes ago, but she waved me off. My brother gave me a weird look, too, but maybe I’m just overthinking. My mom later thanked me for saying something. My dad, on the other hand, told me I might’ve overstepped, that I don’t know the full story, and could’ve caused trouble based on an “immature, impulsive reaction.” Now I just feel weird. Guilty. Confused. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I should do something, but I also know I can’t call the police or anything based on what I saw. I didn’t witness anything directly. But my gut still says something was wrong. Signed, Confused Sister  Dear Confused Sister, First, let’s make one thing crystal clear: your gut isn’t gossip; it’s your intuition, and it’s doing its job. You saw a situation that didn’t feel right, and instead of freezing or pretending not to notice, you acted . That takes courage, maturity, and empathy. Don’t let anyone make you feel guilty for that. Now, about what you witnessed, your instincts are right to raise alarms. A woman who’s “barely able to walk” cannot give meaningful consent. I don’t care if they’re dating, married, or meeting for the first time; being in a relationship doesn’t make it okay to take advantage of someone in that state. What you described could very well fall into the category of sexual assault. You were right to tell your mom. You gave the adults in your home a chance to step in. That was the responsible thing to do. Your father’s reaction, while probably coming from a place of wanting to protect family unity, can be considered misplaced. Sometimes “staying out of it” isn’t noble; it’s cowardly. Silence protects the wrong people. Here’s what you can do now: Document what happened.  Write down everything you remember, times, what you saw, what you heard, and what was said. It’s not about accusing, it’s about clarity if this ever needs to be revisited. Keep an eye out for her.  You said she goes to your college. If you ever see her alone, away from your brother, check in gently. A simple “Hey, you seemed uncomfortable the other night, are you okay?” opens the door. She may not talk now, but it shows her someone noticed and cared. That can mean more than you realize. Talk again with your mom.  She seems to trust your instincts. Ask her to keep an open mind and support you if the girlfriend ever reaches out or if you learn more. The fact that her  mom was calling repeatedly that night suggests she might’ve been worried for a reason, and that detail could matter later. Don’t confront your brother alone.  He’s already defensive. Let your parents handle any future discussion with him. What you saw can’t be unseen. It’s unsettling, confusing, and heavy, but you did the right thing. You acted from conscience, not from drama. Keep trusting that voice inside you. It’s not “immature.” It’s integrity. With respect and admiration, Uncle Gary

Hey Gary, I’m staying in a safe house right now, and some of the routines here are different from what I’m used to. I’ve looked for information, but nothing is written down, and when I asked one of the counsellors, they suggested I write to you directly. So I’m hoping you can help me understand this better. I know you’re supposed to change your underwear every day, but what about t-shirts and socks? Is that every day or every two days? And what about other clothes? Should those be changed daily, or can they be worn more than once? Also, is it okay to have a bath every two days, or should it be more often? Lastly, should bedding, sheets, be washed every week? I’ve tried looking online, but I can’t find clear answers about personal hygiene, like how often you should change your clothes or bathe to stay clean and not smell. It feels like nobody really talks about this, and I don’t want to get it wrong. Thank you for taking the time to read this. I’d really appreciate your help. Hey there, First off, thank you for writing in with such honesty. You’re absolutely right—people rarely talk about this stuff clearly, and it can feel like you're supposed to just “know.” But hygiene isn’t instinctive for everyone, especially when routines get disrupted or you’re in a new environment. So let’s break it down. Underwear and socks : Yes, daily is the gold standard. They sit closest to your skin and collect sweat and bacteria fast. Fresh ones each day help prevent odor, irritation, and infections. T-shirts : If you’re sweating a lot or wearing them as a base layer, treat them like underwear—change daily. If it’s a looser shirt and you’re not sweating much, every two days can be fine. Do the sniff test if you’re unsure. Other clothes (jeans, hoodies, jackets) : These can usually go a few wears before washing, unless they’re visibly dirty or smelly. Jeans, for example, can go 3–5 wears. Hoodies maybe 2–3. The key is airflow—hang them up between wears so they don’t trap moisture. Bathing : Every day is ideal, especially if you’re active or in close quarters with others. But every two days is okay if you’re not sweating much and you’re changing your clothes regularly. If you’re skipping a bath, at least wash your face, armpits, and groin with a washcloth and soap. Sheets and bedding : Weekly is a solid rule. If you’re sweating a lot or eating in bed, maybe more often. If laundry access is limited, aim for every 10 days max. Clean sheets help with sleep and skin health. And here’s the real talk: hygiene isn’t just about avoiding smell—it’s about feeling good in your body, showing respect to yourself and others, and keeping things predictable when life feels chaotic. You’re already doing the hard part by asking. That’s more than most. Regards, Uncle Gary

This picture means more to me than I can put into words. That’s my nephew, who we lost too soon, and my niece, who still lights up every room she walks into. They’re the reason Ask Uncle Gary exists. See, when you’ve been “Uncle Gary” long enough, you learn that advice isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about showing up. Listening. Offering a little perspective, maybe a laugh, and reminding folks they’re not alone in whatever they’re facing. Every time I sit down to write, I think about the conversations we had, the ones I wish we’d had, and the ones I still get to have. That’s the heart of this column. I’ll keep showing up for you, the way I did for them. I’ve worn a lot of hats, on stage in NYC in my twenties, I was a fitness Trainer to celebrities in Los Angeles in my thirties, behind the chair as a hair & makeup man in my forties and fifties, and in university classrooms in my sixties. But for forty‑five years, my favorite title has been “Uncle Gary.” Here, I take your questions, the deep, the light, and the “you can’t make this stuff up,” and hopefully send you back into the world with a little more clarity, a little more courage, and maybe a laugh you didn’t see coming. Every Monday, you’ll get a new column. Along the way, we’ll build a crew that’s here for each other, because nobody gets through life alone. Let’s do this… Me. My niece Lindsey, and my nephew, Phillip

There’s something unmistakably different about people who grew up in the 1970s. That decade didn’t just shape a generation; it forged a particular kind of resilience that psychologists are still trying to name. But if you've lived it, you already know exactly what I’m talking about. Let’s start with the myth everyone gets wrong. Somewhere along the line, we decided that more supervision equals better kids. More structure. More oversight. More adults hovering like concerned hummingbirds. Well… the 1970s kids politely, firmly, and with grass stains on their knees proved that idea completely wrong. Picture it: You’re seven years old. Your mom hands you a bowl of cereal, points vaguely toward the front door, and says, “Be home before dark.”  No GPS. No play-date calendar. No adults narrating your every micro-emotion. Just you, a bike with questionable brakes, and the neighborhood. Your days were an adventure, building forts out of scraps, inventing games with sticks, settling arguments with rock-paper-scissors instead of a parent-teacher conference. If someone got hurt, you handled it. If you got bored, you invented something. If there was drama, you solved it yourselves because, frankly, there was no one else to do it. That freedom wasn’t neglect, it was trust. And neuroscience now tells us something 1970s moms understood instinctively: unstructured play literally builds a sharper, more creative brain. It’s called executive function, but we just called it “go outside.” And let’s talk about awareness. You learned to read the neighborhood like a map. You knew which yards you could cut through and which ones belonged to people who would come out yelling. You could sense from a block away whether the older kids were feeling generous or looking to torment somebody. That wasn’t anxiety, that was survival intelligence. A sixth sense. Then there were the afternoons when you’d let yourself into an empty house with the key hidden under the flowerpot. No panic. No hand-holding. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the knowledge that you could handle a few hours alone. Those quiet afternoons hardwired confidence into you. It was competence disguised as routine. And the boredom, oh, the boredom. You’d wander into the living room, sigh dramatically, and announce, “I’m bored.”  Your mom, without looking up from folding laundry, would say, “Then go find something to do.”  That was the entire conversation. No screens. No curated enrichment. Boredom wasn’t a crisis; it was a creative nudge. And because of that, 1970s kids grew into adults who can sit with silence, wait with patience, and actually think without needing a device to distract them. All that understimulation? Turns out it’s a creativity superpower. And yes, we climbed trees that were too tall, biked without helmets, jumped off things we should not have jumped off, and built ramps so structurally unsound they would give today’s parents cardiac arrest. Did we get hurt? Of course. But we learned something crucial: the difference between danger that feels scary and danger that is  scary. That’s called risk calibration. We just knew it as “Don’t go higher than the branch that bends.” And on those weekends when all your friends were busy, and it was just you and your imagination? That was the birthplace of something rare today: the ability to enjoy your own company. Being alone wasn’t loneliness. It was peace. Here’s the one nobody talks about: emotional resilience. When you were upset, maybe you failed a test or had a falling-out with a friend, you didn’t have a phone to text ten people for validation. You lay on your bed, stared at the ceiling, felt the feelings, and waited for them to pass. You learned that emotions are temporary. That discomfort isn’t fatal. That you can ride out the storm without an audience. Psychologists now call this emotional regulation. We called it Tuesday. And then there was the art of waiting. Really waiting. All week for your favorite show. Months for a birthday. A whole year for Christmas. The anticipation made the payoff sweeter. Today, everything’s instant, but 1970s kids grew up with delayed gratification baked into the culture. And it shows. Studies say it leads to lower addiction rates, better decision-making, and more stable relationships. We just thought we were waiting for The Six Million Dollar Man . And then the failures, the real, character-shaping failures. You fell off your bike? “You’re fine. Try again.” You struck out and lost the game? You played again the next day. No adults swooped in to protect your feelings. No participation trophies. You learned that failure isn’t fatal. It’s feedback. That resilience followed you into adulthood. 1970s kids don’t crumble when life gets messy, they troubleshoot. They adapt. They look for the lesson. They get up again. You also learned social intelligence the old-fashioned way, by actually dealing with people. No adult referees. No “let’s process our feelings in a circle.” You navigated friendships, conflicts, misunderstandings, alliances, betrayals, and hurt feelings, all without coaching. You became fluent in tone, subtext, and the tiny shifts in expression that reveal more than words. People assume unsupervised childhoods create emotionally distant adults. In reality, it created some of the most emotionally attuned people out there. And now? Those same kids are parents and grandparents. And they’re the ones who can watch a child struggle and, with every instinct screaming, choose not to intervene right away. Not because they’re cold, but because they know that too much protection grows anxiety, not strength. They know that confidence doesn’t come from cushioning the world; it comes from learning you can handle it. The truth is simple: The 1970s generation was raised by freedom, shaped by boredom, strengthened by risk, and sharpened by independence. Their resilience wasn’t taught; it was lived. And maybe… just maybe… we’ve made raising kids far more complicated than it needs to be. Sometimes the greatest gift isn’t shielding someone from struggle, it’s helping them develop the muscles to face it on their own.

The sun just got a little warmer, the vibes a whole lot sharper, and the advice? Well… it just got real. Ask Uncle Gary  has officially landed at SoCal Magazine , Southern California’s Cultural Portal, and is now the proud home of the most straight-talking, heart-listening advice column on the West Coast. From Palm Springs to Pasadena, we’re serving wisdom with a wink, truth with a twist, and compassion with just enough sass to keep things interesting. These are the questions you whisper into your coffee cup, the secrets you only tell your steering wheel, and the dilemmas that hit you at 2 a.m. when the ceiling fan suddenly becomes your therapist. Whether you’re knee-deep in a workplace disaster, stumbling through love like it’s leg day, or trying to forgive someone who isn’t even pretending to be sorry, Uncle Gary’s here—no judgment, no nonsense, just sunshine, empathy, and the kind of clarity that makes everything snap into place. SoCalMag didn’t just pick up an advice column. They inherited a community, one built on warmth, honesty, and a sense of humor that makes you feel a little less alone and a lot more understood. We’re live. We’re local. And oh yes… we’re listening. Dive into the latest letters, send in your own, and see why readers keep coming back for the truth bombs they didn’t know they needed. Your new favorite corner of the internet is waiting at SoCal Magazine’s Ask Uncle Gary . Click in, and don’t be shy.

Hey Uncle Gary, I’m a 26F married to a 27M. We’ve been together 8 years and have two young kids. Our relationship has had serious issues, including his cheating, constant arguing, and growing resentment. I’m a stay-at-home mom, which makes leaving harder, but I feel divorce may be necessary. At the same time, I’m scared of being away from my kids on his custody days, and I worry our youngest, who has speech delays, might regress in daycare. I’m torn between staying unhappy for the kids or divorcing because we don’t get along. Is it possible to rebuild love, or am I holding onto something that can’t be fixed? Signed, Should I stay or should I go? Dear, Should I stay or should I go, My friend, what you’re carrying is heavy, and it’s perfectly understandable to feel torn when your heart is being pulled in two directions at once. Now, I want to say this clearly and calmly, cheating, constant arguing, and years of resentment  don’t just fade away because we squint real hard and hope for the best; healing demands honesty, accountability, and a real commitment to counseling or therapy from both of you, not just you holding everything together with duct tape and good intentions. And I hear the fear in your voice about being away from your kids, especially with your youngest needing extra support, but children often grow the most when the parent they rely on is steady, centered, and not living in a storm every day. Whether this marriage can be rebuilt depends on whether he’s willing to do the real work, and I mean the kind where a therapist says, “Let’s try that again,” and he doesn’t roll his eyes, but you shouldn’t stay in misery on the off-chance that love might boomerang back someday. What matters most is choosing the path that brings you peace, because your kids don’t need you to be perfect; they just need you to be whole. Signed, Uncle Gary

Dear Uncle Gary,    I’ve been dating my boyfriend (28M) for about a year. Things have mostly been good; we work out together, take little trips, and I’ve tried to be the supportive, non-controlling girlfriend, especially since he told me his ex was the opposite. Lately, he’s been spending more time at the gym, which I didn’t think much of. But a few days ago, while I was using his phone for music, I saw a message from his gym buddy. When I asked about it, he grabbed the phone, said “just gym stuff,” and deleted the chat. I didn’t accuse him of anything, but I did ask later why he deleted it. He said I was overreacting and always assume the worst. That stung, because I wasn’t trying to start a fight, I just wanted honesty. Now I’m stuck. I want to trust him, but something feels off. I know deleting messages doesn’t always mean cheating, but it’s weird, right? Especially when it’s the same guy he keeps talking about lately. Should I bring it up again or let it go and watch how things play out? Am I protecting my peace or just being naive? Signed, Naive? Dear “Naive?”, Let’s start here: your instincts aren’t paranoia, they’re information. You didn’t snoop. You didn’t accuse. You asked a calm, reasonable question and got a defensive, evasive answer. That’s not on you. Deleting messages isn’t a crime, but it’s a choice. And choices tell stories. If everything was truly “just gym stuff,” why the secrecy? Why the snap reaction? Why make you feel like the villain for noticing? Now, I’m not saying he’s cheating. I am saying he’s hiding something. And when someone makes you feel guilty for asking a fair question, that’s not love, it’s deflection. So what do you do? You don’t beg for honesty. You set the tone. You say: “I’m not here to police your phone. I’m here to build trust. But when you shut me down and delete things mid-conversation, it makes me question what we’re building. I need transparency, not gaslighting.” Then watch. Not just what he says, but how he acts. Does he lean in or shut down? Does he make space for your feelings or make you feel crazy for having them? Protecting your peace doesn’t mean ignoring red flags. It means honoring your gut and refusing to shrink yourself to keep someone else comfortable. You’re not naive. You’re awake. Stay that way. With clarity and zero shame, Uncle Gary

Dear Uncle Gary, I teach English at our community college, and once a month our department holds a meeting where we share updates, lesson ideas, student wins, and classroom challenges. It’s about 17 of us, including our department chair, Marisol, and the rest of the faculty. There’s a tradition at these meetings where we also share a few personal photos, something from our lives outside of school. Most people show vacation pics, family moments, hiking trails, or quirky hobbies. It’s a nice way to connect, and I genuinely enjoy seeing what everyone’s up to. Here’s my dilemma: the hobby I spend most of my time on is one I’m proud of, but I’m not sure how it would land in a semi-casual work setting. I’ve been training in pole dancing for the past couple of years. It’s physically demanding, creatively fulfilling, and honestly, it’s the best workout I’ve ever found. I’ve even started performing in amateur showcases. It’s not risqué or provocative in the way people sometimes assume—it’s athletic, artistic, and empowering. But I’m a male teacher, and I know that comes with certain optics. I’m not sure how my colleagues or Marisol would react to photos of me mid-invert or doing a shoulder mount. Some would probably find it fascinating or even inspiring, but others might feel uncomfortable or just not know what to make of it. So here’s my question: is it appropriate to include this hobby in a work presentation that’s meant to be personal but still professional? Or should I stick to something safer, like a picture of my dog or a weekend hike? Signed, Pole Fitness Dancer Dear Pole Fitness Dancer, Well, aren’t you just the Cirque du Soleil of tenure track. I love it. You’re out here defying gravity while the rest of us are just trying to defy the urge to grade papers in bed. Now let’s talk shop. You’re asking whether it’s appropriate to share photos of your pole dancing hobby in a work meeting. And I say: it depends. Not on the pole, although I do hope it’s securely fastened, but on the context, the tone, and the delivery. You’re not talking about anything salacious. You’re talking about strength, artistry, and discipline. You’re talking about a sport that demands core control, spatial awareness, and a willingness to hang upside down like a chandelier with abs. That’s not scandalous, that’s impressive. But here’s the rub (and no, not that kind): some folks still hear “pole dancing” and picture a smoky club and a soundtrack by Def Leppard. You know it, I know it, and Marisol probably knows it too. So if you do decide to share, frame it. Give it context. Lead with the athleticism, the creativity, the personal growth. Maybe skip the thigh-highs and go with a photo that highlights the movement, not the mystique. And if you’re still unsure? Test the waters. Mention it casually in conversation with a colleague you trust. Gauge the reaction. You don’t have to go full shoulder mount in the slideshow, maybe just a glimpse of the studio, the rig, the training. Let them see the dedication before the dazzle. Because here’s the truth, authenticity builds trust. And when you show up as your full self, graceful, grounded, and maybe a little upside-down, you give others permission to do the same. So whether it’s your dog, your hike, or your gravity-defying hobby, share what makes you proud. Just make sure the pole isn’t the only thing with a strong foundation. Yours in strength and sass, Uncle Gary

Take a moment and a deep breath. Look at your life right now. If nothing changes today, where will you be in ten years? Be honest with yourself. The words that follow are meant to be a wake-up call. You can either read them and be motivated to act, or you can scroll on and spend the next decade repeating the same year, over and over again. This past weekend, I saw a man spend ten minutes trying to get approval from someone who clearly didn't care. He kept seeking validation that was never going to come. This kind of interaction is everywhere, and maybe you've experienced it yourself. Here's a 24-hour challenge for you: For the next day, do not explain yourself to anyone who disrespects your boundaries. They might say you lack confidence, but that's not the truth. You were likely conditioned to be predictable and easy to manage, learning to over-apologize, over-explain, and neglect your own standards. However, Stoic philosophy teaches us that we always have control over our judgments, choices, and actions. Epictetus called this the "dichotomy of control." So, the real question isn't "Who's holding me back?" but "What am I still giving away that belongs to me, my time, my attention, my self-respect?" Today, I want to share eight Stoic principles for building an unshakable presence. These aren't just empty words; they're actionable strategies you can use immediately. Principle #1: Cultivate Your Inner Identity. There are two voices inside everyone. One is submissive, constantly explaining and apologizing for its existence. The other speaks with authority and conviction. Every day, every decision you make is a vote for either your weak self or your strong self. Marcus Aurelius once wrote, "You have power over your mind, not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength." Think about that. Your power isn't with your boss, your critics, or your past. It's in your mind and your choices. To get started, try this five-minute exercise called the "Identity Ledger." Get a piece of paper and draw two columns. On the left, list behaviors that make you feel small. On the right, list behaviors that make you feel strong. Be completely honest. The left side might include things like "apologizing too much" or "saying yes when you mean no." On the right, you'll write the replacements, such as "calmly stating my boundary once" or "saying no without guilt or explanation." This simple exercise is a way to rewire the inner voice you've been listening to for years. This is about reclaiming the authority you've been giving away. Every time you compromise too much, you teach the world that your standards are unimportant. And every time you enforce a boundary, you remind yourself that your worth is non-negotiable. Here's a simple rule that will change everything: Never be kinder to a stranger than you are to yourself. Read that again and let it truly sink in. Most people are harsh on themselves but are gentle with everyone else's demands. That ends now. When you feed your stronger self, you stop apologizing for your existence and stop over-explaining things. You begin to walk into a room with a quiet confidence. And when you do, people notice. They listen and respect you, not because you're the loudest, but because you speak with truth. So ask yourself today: Which voice will I feed? Principle #2: Build the Fortress Mind Your mind is either your greatest ally or your most dangerous enemy. For many people, it’s in a constant state of chaos. Every criticism feels personal, every setback cuts too deep, and every obstacle throws you off balance. But listen closely: your emotions were never meant to be in control. They are meant to provide information, nothing more. Anger isn't a command; it's a signal that a boundary has been crossed. Pain isn't a punishment; it's proof that someone has shown their true nature. Fear isn't a weakness; it's the edge of growth, calling you to move forward. This is the essence of a fortress mind, a mind that doesn't break under pressure but uses that pressure to sharpen its focus. Think of Marcus Aurelius, an emperor surrounded by war, betrayal, and plagues, who still wrote to himself that "a wise man acts in the present, shaping the future." He didn't waste time complaining; he processed, observed, and acted. That is the fortress mind at work. A modern example is Warren Buffett. When the market crashes and billions are lost, he doesn't panic. He waits, he studies, and he acts when everyone else is ruled by fear. That’s why he wins while others fail. So, here's your training: When life shakes you, don't ask, "Why me?" Ask, "What is this teaching me?" A friend betrays you? Lesson: Trust must be earned. Your boss criticizes you unfairly? Lesson: Their words reveal them, not you. You fail at a project? Lesson: The system needs to be improved, not abandoned. Every event is an opportunity for wisdom. Nothing is wasted unless you waste it. Building a fortress mind doesn't mean you stop feeling; it means you stop being controlled by your feelings. You still feel, but now, emotions serve you instead of enslaving you. Most people live in glass houses that shatter with a single insult or failure. You will build stone walls, steel gates, and towers of perspective. When storms come, and they will, you will still be standing. So write this into your identity: My mind is a fortress; my thoughts are my tools. Once your mind is unshakable, the world can no longer decide your destiny. You do. Principle #3: Master the Art of Silence The loudest person in the room is usually the weakest. He talks because he’s nervous. He explains because he’s uncertain. He argues because he’s desperate for validation. You, on the other hand, will be the opposite. Silence isn't an absence of words; it's a form of power. When you stop explaining yourself, a shift occurs. People begin to respect you more. They stop questioning your decisions and testing your boundaries because they realize you don't need their approval or permission. Think about the most influential leaders you know. Do they constantly explain themselves or justify every choice? Of course not. They make decisions and move forward. They set boundaries and hold them. They speak only when it truly matters. As Machiavelli wrote, "The lion does not need to roar to be respected." Silence makes you intriguing. When people can't easily read you, they assume you're more strategic than you are, granting you influence you never even claimed. But here’s the key: when you do speak, your words must carry weight because you’ve been selective. People will listen carefully because you don't waste words, and every sentence lands with force. This is the art of strategic silence. Imagine this: Someone unfairly accuses you. The weak person rushes to defend themselves. You simply look at them, calm and unmoved. Someone demands an answer you don’t want to give. The weak person explains endlessly. You say one word. Someone tries to bait you into drama. The weak person dives in. You walk away. What happens? They get confused by your calm and escalate, revealing their true character while you remain untouchable. Your silence also protects you from regret. How many relationships and reputations have been destroyed because someone couldn't stop talking, because they reacted instead of observing? That won't be you. You will fill a room with your presence, not with noise. You will save your energy for action, not for arguments. Let others shout and scramble to be heard. You will master silence, and through it, you will command respect. Say this with me: My silence speaks louder than their noise. Principle #4: Turn Setbacks into Strength Life will test you. Your closest friend may betray you. Your business partner might choose money over loyalty. Someone you trust may let you down when the stakes are highest. Most people collapse under disappointment. They replay conversations, endlessly asking, "How could this happen to me?" They waste months searching for reasons instead of using the lesson. You will be different because disappointment isn't a wound; it's information. It's a revelation of character. It is the truth, stripped bare. As Seneca wrote, "Fire tests gold, adversity tests strong men." Every setback is proof that life is refining you, not destroying you. Think about Walt Disney. He was fired from a newspaper job because his editor said he lacked creativity. Most people would have quit. Disney turned that humiliation into the fuel that built an empire, a castle that millions now walk through every year, built on the ashes of rejection. Or consider Steve Jobs, who was publicly humiliated and thrown out of the company he founded. But instead of breaking, he started over and returned years later to transform Apple into one of the most powerful companies in the world. Disappointment can either destroy you or elevate you. The choice is yours. Here’s the Stoic approach: When betrayal strikes, don't waste energy on anger. Ask, "What did this reveal about them? What system do I need to change so this doesn’t happen again?" When failure hits, don't sink into shame. Ask, "What weakness in my process just came to light? How can I rebuild it to be stronger?" Sometimes the right response is to simply cut ties, with no explanations and no second chances, like removing poison from the body. Other times, the right move is patience. File away the betrayal, remember it, and wait for the perfect moment to turn their weakness into your advantage. Either way, you win because setbacks aren’t curses. They are proof that you are rising. No one envies the person who is stuck at the bottom. People only betray you when you've become someone worth envying. So, wear every disappointment as a badge of honor. Let it sharpen you, harden you, and forge you. Say it now: I turn pain into power. Principle #5: Silence Your Critics with Excellence Weak people argue with their critics. They defend, explain, and beg to be understood. Every word they waste gives their enemy power. You will not make that mistake. The truth is, critics aren't your problem; your response to them is. Marcus Aurelius reminded himself daily: "The opinion of 10,000 men is of no value, if they do not know what they are talking about." Why should you debate people who have never built, endured, or achieved anything? Look at Cristiano Ronaldo. Millions have mocked, hated, and booed him, but he never wasted energy arguing. He responded with goals, trophies, and records that speak louder than any insult. Or think of Oprah Winfrey. She was told she wasn't fit for television. Imagine if she had wasted time trying to convince the doubters. Instead, she built a media empire that silenced them forever. Excellence ends arguments. Results close mouths. Success turns doubt into envy. Here’s your rule: every minute you spend debating is a minute stolen from building. Every hour you waste on defending yourself is an hour you could have invested in your own growth. So choose the better weapon. Don’t talk, deliver. Don’t argue, execute. Don’t explain, win. As you rise higher, your critics won’t disappear; they will multiply. But so will your results. And when your results are undeniable, criticism becomes irrelevant. Think about it: the person who builds an empire doesn't argue with someone who has never laid a single brick. The person who commands respect doesn't explain themselves to those who have commanded nothing. You have a choice: will you play the game of noise or the game of results? Here's your affirmation: I silence critics with success, not arguments. Let your work do the talking, and let your actions be so loud that they drown out the complaints of others. In the end, your critics' voices will fade, but your excellence will remain. Principle #6: Control Your Reputation Every person carries a shadow that enters a room before they do. It's a presence that speaks louder than any introduction, shaping how people treat them before a single word is even spoken. That shadow is your reputation . Most people leave their reputation to chance, letting it be defined by gossip, accidents, or the opinions of others. But if you seek power and respect, you will take control of it. Machiavelli wrote, "Men judge more by the eye than the hand." This means people decide who you are based on what they see, long before they understand what you do. So what do people see when you enter a room? Do they see a person who is hunched over, apologetic, and hesitant? Or do they see a person who walks with calm certainty, who moves with purpose, and who stands like they belong everywhere they go? Think about Marcus Aurelius. As the Emperor of Rome, he didn't need a crown or fancy robes to command respect. His composure in chaos and his calm in crisis were his true armor, which was his reputation. A modern example is Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. When he enters a room, people feel his presence before he speaks. His reputation is built on discipline, consistency, and energy, and he's cultivated it deliberately and protects it fiercely. Your reputation is not an accident; it is a tool. It can shield you or expose you, open doors or close them. Here's how you train it: Stand with presence: Shoulders back, eyes steady, no fidgeting. Speak with weight: Use fewer words, a lower tone, and a slower pace. Be consistent: Be the same person in private as you are in public. Embrace mystery: Don't tell everyone your plans or explain your every move. Let them wonder. Curiosity will work in your favor. Once your reputation is solid, it protects you even when you're not there. People will think twice before testing you and will measure their words before speaking your name. Say this now: I control my reputation; my presence commands respect. Your reputation is your armor. Build it, shape it, and guard it. In a world where people are judged in seconds, it may be your greatest weapon. Principle #7: Make Excellence a Daily Discipline Excellence isn't a single event. It's not a performance, a speech, or one moment in the spotlight. Excellence is a habit , a ritual, a discipline you practice every single day. Most people believe excellence only appears in big moments, like a job interview or an important meeting, but the truth is that it's built in the unseen hours, when no one is watching and when it would be easier to choose comfort. Seneca wrote, "We are always complaining that our days are few, and acting as though there will be no end of them." He understood that the way you spend your ordinary days determines your extraordinary ones. Think about Kobe Bryant. The world saw his championships, his trophies, and his glory. But what truly created that success? The 4 a.m. workouts, the thousands of shots taken in empty gyms, and the relentless choice of discipline over comfort. Or consider Jocko Willink, the former Navy SEAL commander, who wakes up at 4:30 a.m. every day. Why? Not because it’s glamorous, but because it’s about discipline. When you do what you say you will do, especially when it’s hard, you become unstoppable. So here's your training: every day, identify the one task you least want to do and do it first. That single habit will rewire your mind to follow your purpose, not your feelings. Excellence is found in the small details, how you handle minor annoyances, how you treat people who can't do anything for you, and how you show up when nobody is keeping score. Comfort is the enemy. Comfort makes you predictable, predictability makes you manageable, and manageable people are forgotten. You are not here to be forgotten. So build your discipline. Wake up when you said you would. Train when you don't feel like it. Keep promises to yourself, even when it's inconvenient. Every time you choose discipline over comfort, you forge strength. Every time you choose action over an excuse, you prove to yourself that you are in control. Say it now: Discipline is my ritual. Excellence is my standard. Because when life tests you, and it will, it’s not talent that will carry you through. It's the discipline you practiced when no one was watching. Principle #8: Become Unstoppable To be unstoppable doesn't mean nothing can ever hurt you; it means nothing can break you. You will still feel pain, but it won't own you. You will still face fear, but it won't trap you. You will still hear criticism, but it won't define you. The unstoppable person is free, free from the need for approval, free from the weight of other people's opinions, and free from the chains of their own excuses. Marcus Aurelius said it best: "He who conquers themself is the mightiest warrior." Self-mastery is the final frontier. When you govern your thoughts, your reactions, and your discipline, the world has no weapon left to use against you. Look at Nelson Mandela. After 27 years in prison, he could have emerged broken and bitter. Instead, he walked out stronger, a leader, and unstoppable. Or think of my friend of over 30 years, Bob Bowers, also known as One Tough Pirate . He has lived with HIV/AIDS for 42 years, and at 62, he is still fighting with faith, fire, and grit. His book, The True Tale , and a docuseries, The Gospel , are coming out this spring. This isn't just about survival; it's his legacy. He felt like he lost his future at a young age, yet he discovered his truth. As he would say, " What I see is a Peaceful Warrior, still standing, still fighting, still choosing faith over fear. " That is what it means to be unbreakable. So what does this look like for you? It means no more waiting for permission or hoping the world will recognize your worth. No more shrinking yourself so others feel comfortable. The unstoppable person chooses their mission and moves forward. They build when others complain. They rise when others quit. They hold their ground when others retreat. Yes, people will test you. They will look for cracks and try to press every button they can find. Let them. They will exhaust themselves against a wall they cannot move because you have built your new identity , your fortress mind , and your strength and discipline . You are not who you were. You are who you choose to be every single day. Say it with me: I am unbreakable. I am unbending. I am unstoppable. The moment you choose discipline over comfort, courage over fear, and purpose over approval, that is the moment you become untouchable. This is your time. This is your proof. This is your life. Take it. Conclusion People, the world doesn't hand out respect; you have to claim it by how you show up, especially when no one is watching. From this moment on, do not explain yourself to people who disrespect your standards. Do not give in to your emotions. Do not let others define your identity. You will be challenged today, maybe even in the next hour. Someone will test the old you. Just breathe, observe, and choose. One calm boundary. One decisive "no." One difficult task done first. That's how being unstoppable begins, not with noise, but with a single disciplined act.