This week I sat down with Men’s Therapy Online to talk about a hard truth: trauma will either refine you or define you. Too many of us—good men, tough men—end up anchoring our identity to the worst thing that happened to us, instead of building on what we choose to do with it.

We’re generous with grace for everyone else and stingy with ourselves. I learned the cost of that the hard way. If I let a victim mindset take the driver’s seat, it would have been the death of me.

The trap of the victim narrative

There’s real relief in being seen and believed. But if we start basking in the attention that comes with the victim narrative, healing stalls. That’s true whether your trauma was childhood sexual abuse, combat, a line-of-duty incident, violence, or divorce. Pain is pain. But a narrative that keeps you powerless keeps you stuck.

Scars to medals

Scars aren’t decorations of shame. They’re proof you survived. At some point, we have to turn scars of shame into medals of honor—not by pretending it didn’t happen, but by taking responsibility for who we are now.

Deal with the tree, not just the fruit

Trauma grows strange fruit—anger, numbness, panic, isolation, addictions. You can prune fruit all day and it keeps coming back. Until you deal with the tree (the nervous system, the beliefs, the habits), the fruit returns.

Practical shifts that work

* Name it plainly. Write three sentences: what happened, how it shows up now, what you’re choosing next.

* Stop renting attention. Share for healing, not applause. Tell one trusted person; build a plan.

* Tend the body. Sleep, hydration, protein, movement, breathwork. Your nervous system is the soil.

* Retrain the mind. Replace “This is who I am” with “This is what happened—and here’s what I do today.”

* Build brotherhood. Two or three solid mates, counselor, pastor—people who hold you to your standards.

* Serve. Purpose shrinks pain. Mentor one man coming behind you.

If this hits home, watch for my Men’s Therapy Online episode—link coming in the notes. I go deeper on each of these and share the routines I use to keep my head and heart straight.

Question: What’s one shift you can make today that moves you from victim narrative to warrior discipline?

Continue the conversation on Dr. John A. King (Th.D.) or on social media @drjohnaking.

If you’re in immediate crisis (U.S.), call or text 988.

Years ago, I sat at my kitchen table and drew a rough Venn diagram. In one circle I listed everything that set me off—foods, sounds, places, people, smells. In the other, I listed what kept me steady—sleep, movement, clean meals, quiet mornings, safe faces. I asked one question:

What’s the 20% that, if I get it right, will improve 80% of my life?

Then I went after it. I read a couple hundred books. I ran experiments. I paid attention. Back then we didn’t have a cool word for it. Today they call it “biohacking.” For me, it was a lifeline.

What I discovered (the hard way)

* Certain foods wrecked me. Not just “too many calories,” but artificial dyes and junk ingredients. A small hit could spiral my mood for days.

* Sugar was gasoline on the fire. Anxiety up. Sleep down. Fuse shortened.

* Inputs matter. Music, clothing textures, the wrong crowd, cluttered rooms, fluorescent lights, certain smells—tiny things that pushed me into the red.

* Environment is medicine. A quiet space, natural light, tidy desk, a walk outside—these weren’t “nice to have.” They were non-negotiable.

* Boundaries beat willpower. I stopped trying to “tough it out.” I changed my inputs.

None of this made me perfect. It just made me functional—more present for my wife, my work, my people.

The 20% that moved 80% of the needle

You don’t have to fix everything. You have to fix the right things.

* Food audit. Whole foods first. Protein early. Ditch the artificial stuff. Track how you feel 2–24 hours after you eat.

* Sugar ceiling. Set a daily cap (or cut it for 30 days). Watch your sleep and mood stabilize.

* Sleep protection. Same bedtime, cool dark room, no doom-scroll the last hour.

* Morning anchors. Water, movement (10–20 min), 3 deep breaths, sunlight. Start on purpose, not by accident.

* Noise & input hygiene. Curate your music, news, and conversations. Some songs heal. Some don’t. Same with people.

* Clothing & sensory comfort. Wear what your nervous system likes. Texture, fit, temperature. It’s not vanity—it’s regulation.

* Environment reset. Clear surfaces. Open a window. Step outside at lunch. Set the stage for the life you want to live.

* Company you keep. Choose people who calm your nervous system, not people your nervous system has to recover from.

Start with one or two. Win small. Repeat.

How to run your own “Venn Diagram” experiment (7 days)

Day 1: Map it.Two lists: “Fuels me” and “Flares me.” Be brutally honest.

Day 2–3: Remove one red-flag input.Sugar at night? A certain podcast that spikes you? The cluttered office? Pull one thing out and note your sleep, mood, and patience the next day.

Day 4–5: Add one stabilizer.Protein-heavy breakfast, a 20-minute walk, phone on Do Not Disturb until 9 a.m., five minutes of breathing. Track results.

Day 6: Environmental upgrade.Fix your light, clear your desk, set clothes out for tomorrow, open the blinds. Small wins, big gains.

Day 7: Review and lock it in.What moved the needle most? Keep that 20%. The rest can wait.

My rules, written in ink

* If an input repeatedly costs me my peace, it’s out.

* If a habit repeatedly gives me my life back, it’s in.

* If I have to white-knuckle it every day, I need a different plan.

Simple. Not easy. Worth it.

You’re not broken. You’re sensitive to inputs.

That sensitivity is intelligence. Point it at what heals you.

If you try this, tell me your 20%—the one small change that delivered the biggest return. I read every comment. And if this helped, share it with a friend who’s living in the red and needs a way back to steady.

Stay steady and lets connect on substack and social!John (@drjohnaking)

Quick note

If you’re in a dark place or feel unsafe right now, please reach out to local emergency services or a trusted professional in your area. You’re not alone, and help is available.