I was 40 years old, walking with my mother on Ocean Beach in San Francisco, when I had to tell her the hardest truth of my life: “Mom, I’m sorry, but I’m never going to make you a granny.” All I’d ever wanted was to be a husband and the father I never had, and in that moment, I felt like a complete failure. Around the same time, a different kind of hopelessness was closing in. No matter how many clients I saw as a therapist, I could never afford a home in San Francisco. I was selling my time for money that was being debased by housing inflation faster than I could earn it, locked in a losing race against the endless flood of Silicon Valley dollars. In love and in finance, I was playing a rigged game, and I was losing.
Those pains became my teacher. Desperate to help my clients and myself, I dove into Attachment Theory and Systems Theory. I was my first client, and in healing my own relational patterns, I finally learned how to build the family I’d always dreamed of. In the same way, my resentment of a broken financial system led me to put many hundreds of hours into Bitcoin, where I found the hope and freedom I thought was reserved for others. The discovery in both domains was the same: I had to recognize the broken protocol I was living in, feel the pain it was causing, and find the courage to commit to a new one built on truth.
My story might sound neat now, but the truth is, the messiness is never far away. It’s why I still start many of my talks with a little self-deprecating riff: “And then I feel really alone with everything that I do. I have no money. I’m the son of an alcoholic.” It’s ridiculous and true and funny all at once. And it reminds me—and hopefully you—that healing isn’t about eliminating the mess; it’s about finding a protocol that can finally make sense of it.
So let me be brutally honest: people don’t change because they read some clever blog post. They change when their current way of being hurts like hell. I like to say that people only change out of inspiration or desperation, and you can count the inspired ones on one hand. For the rest of us, pain is the teacher. Couples don’t stroll into my office with a latte in one hand because they’re doing awesome. They show up because the fights, the loneliness, and the ice-cold silence became intolerable—because ‘bad enough’ finally arrived.
That pain is what cracks the door open. It’s the moment you’re finally willing to look at something radically different, whether that’s attachment theory for your marriage or a digital asset with an orange mascot for your wealth. Look at Michael Saylor. He didn’t embrace Bitcoin because he thought cryptography was sexy; he did it out of desperation. He saw his company’s balance sheet bleeding value against the hurdle rate of the S&P 500 and knew that without a radical change, MicroStrategy would become a zombie company. That pain made him finally listen to a friend about the very asset he once derided. For me, Saylor is a teacher. He helped me understand money and see our broken financial system, giving me a way to change my own life—just as my mentors did in the relationship realm. Pain was his teacher. The same goes for you and your relationship.
Same Story, Different Domain
When a couple is in pain, my job isn’t to fix them. I’m not a plumber; I’m a mirror. Using the lens of attachment and systems theory, I help them see the dysfunctional system they’ve co-created. My goal is to shift their perspective from an “I” consciousness—where everything is your fault or my fault—to seeing the system as the enemy. I lovingly, and annoyingly, reframe their fights until they see what I see: “You’re not just two assholes yelling at each other. You’re two people protecting yourselves from very old hurts in a very bad way.” Once they see that their system is the problem instead of each other, everything changes. They can finally feel the sadness underneath the rage and say, “I miss you,” instead of “You never listen.”
Bitcoin has its own mirrors. People like Saylor, Max Keiser, and Lyn Alden aren’t selling a ‘get rich quick’ scheme; they are systems thinkers. They hold up a mirror to the broken fiat system, shifting your focus from blaming yourself for not saving enough to seeing the systemic theft of inflation. They force you to feel the truth in the question, “Hey, do you see how you’re bleeding buying power every year, and do you get that it doesn’t have to be this way?” Once you truly see the system, you’re ready for a new protocol.
My Job: Reframer, Pain‑in‑the‑Ass to your Ego Identity
My job is to repeatedly hold up that mirror to the pattern you co-create in your relationship, because information alone is not enough. The key isn’t confrontation; it’s validation. I have to reflect your shared pattern in a way that validates both of your experiences. For example: ‘Of course you shut down when he raises his voice—it’s how you’ve learned to feel safe. And of course you pursue her when she pulls away—it’s how you fight for connection.’ By validating that your survival strategies make sense, the defensiveness melts. That safety is what allows you to see the painful system you’re trapped in and, together, begin to unwind it through shared empathy and compassion for me, you, and us.
This process of validation through repetition happens in the Bitcoin world, too. It’s the people with laser eyes on Twitter relentlessly posting charts, memes, and analogies until something finally clicks. Information alone doesn’t change you, but that constant signal eventually connects with the financial pain you’re already feeling. It validates the sense that you’re not crazy—the game is rigged. Suddenly, you don’t just know it, you feel the betrayal of fiat. You see the story you’ve been living, and you get curious about another way.
The Consciousness Upgrade
When couples finally “get” attachment, it’s like they’ve been fish in a pond and suddenly someone lifts them out of the water. They see the whole pond — the shore, the sky, the birds. Their world goes from two dimensions to three. They begin speaking a different language. They see the pattern instead of attacking the person. “Oh! We get stuck like this because I withdraw and you pursue. I didn’t know that was even a thing.” It’s the most important shift they can make: from a reactive ‘I’ consciousness to a compassionate ‘we’ consciousness.
Bitcoin is a consciousness upgrade, too. Once you understand the basics—the philosophy, the tech, the economic reality—you can’t unsee it. You look at inflation and think, “Oh, that’s not inevitable; that’s engineered.” You start to develop low time preference and ask uncomfortable questions about every aspect of your life. And yes, you might stop getting invited to dinner parties because by dessert, you’re shouting, “There is no second best!” after listening to too many Bitcoin podcasts that week.
Fiat Love vs. Bitcoin Love
Let me draw the analogy all the way down. Most modern relationships operate on a flawed, fiat protocol: a Keynesian model of love. It’s a “differentiation model” that says, ‘I am me, you are you, and if we can’t get along, it can’t be helped.’ This approach cynically denies our true nature as an interdependent species and, like a shitcoin, is premined, reactive, volatile, and collapses because you were always just a meal ticket or exit strategy for an independent other.
Bitcoin relationships are like stacking sats. You start by surrendering to the base layer, to the laws of nature: We need each other. From that granite foundation of secure attachment, you build upon that platform to do great things in the world—start a business, reach for the stars, raise a family, create a legacy. It’s not a fantasy; it’s an engineered protocol you commit to when the old way hurts too much.
Pick Your Hard
Here’s the kicker: both paths are hard. Doing the work to heal your relationship is hard. Not doing it — staying in silent resentment or starting over with someone new — is also hard. Educating yourself about sound money is hard. Pretending nothing’s wrong while your buying power erodes is also hard.
The question isn’t whether you’re going to suffer. It’s which suffering leads somewhere better. Do you want the suffering that leads to closeness, honesty, and a life you’re proud of? Or the suffering that leads to more of the same?
Wrapping It Up
So that’s my pitch. If you’re reading this and you’re in pain—good. Pain is honest. Pain says, “This isn’t working.” Whether you’re freaking out about your marriage or your money, the next step is the same: let the pain teach you. Invite a mirror into your life. Get curious about the systems you’re trapped in. And when you find a protocol that’s built on truth—whether it’s attachment science or a decentralized ledger—commit to it.
Because you’re going to pick a hard either way. You might as well pick the one that sets you free.
