Why You Keep Looking For Permission
You've built a life that looks good on paper.
The career. The income. The responsibilities.
But somewhere along the way, you stopped making decisions from your gut and started checking with everyone else first.
Your partner. Your boss. Your parents. The invisible jury in your head.
You're waiting for someone to tell you it's okay to want what you want.
To leave the job. To start the thing. To say no. To disappoint someone.
You're a grown man asking for permission to live your own life.
The Key Under The Pillow
In Iron John, Robert Bly tells the story of a boy who discovers a wild man locked in a cage in the courtyard. The key to the cage is kept under the Queen's pillow—under the mother's intimate world, her expectations, her dreams for her son.
The boy can't free the wild man (his own primal, essential self, his instincts, his power) without stealing that key.
Most men never steal it.
They try to be good. They try to please. They become what Bly calls the "soft male"—the man who "preserves life, but does not generate it." The man who needs approval to feel alive.
You learned early that your worth was conditional. That love came when you performed, achieved, didn't make waves. So you built a life around that deal: Be good, get approval. Don't rock the boat, stay safe.
But the cage is still there. And you're still waiting for someone to hand you the key.
Why You Can't Just Ask For It
Here's the paradox: you can't get permission to stop seeking permission.
No one is going to tell you it's okay to trust yourself. No authority figure will validate your decision to stop needing their validation. Your mother won't hand you the key and say, "Go, be wild now."
The entire system is designed to keep you asking.
Your job wants you compliant. Your family wants you predictable. Society wants you productive and non-threatening.
And the voice in your head—the one that sounds like your father, your old coach, the culture—keeps whispering: Who do you think you are?
So you stay stuck in analysis paralysis. You overthink. You wait for certainty. You collect more information, read more books, listen to more podcasts.
You tell yourself you're being strategic. But really, you're stalling.
Because if you trusted yourself, you'd have to act. And action without permission feels dangerous.
What You're Really Afraid Of
Let's be honest about what's underneath this:
You're afraid that if you stop performing, stop pleasing, stop checking in with everyone else—you'll be rejected.
That your worth will evaporate.
That you'll be exposed as "not enough."
So you keep the performance going. You keep asking. You keep waiting.
But here's what that costs you:
You can't extend your arm when holding a sword. You can't cut through the noise. You can't claim your own territory. You've learned so well not to hurt anyone, not to make anyone uncomfortable. You can't protect what matters.
You're living someone else's life—your parents' expectations, society's script, the institution's playbook—and calling it "success."
And it's killing you.
The Theft You Owe Yourself
Stealing the key isn't a metaphor for rebellion. It's a metaphor for reclamation.
It means you stop waiting for someone to tell you it's okay to want what you want.
It means you stop outsourcing your decisions to the crowd, the algorithm, the people who don't have to live with the consequences.
It means you start listening to the voice that's been buried under all the "shoulds"—the one that knows what you actually need, even if it doesn't make sense to anyone else.
I'm not saying to burn down your life. I'm saying to reclaim your authority over it.
It's about moving from conditional self-worth (tied to performance and approval) to unconditional self-acceptance (inherent worth, independent of what you produce or who you please).
It's about becoming the awakened leader who operates from self-trust and inner authority, not fear.
What This Looks Like In Practice
You stop asking your partner if it's okay to take a weekend alone. You tell them you're going.
You stop running every business idea past ten people before you move. You trust your gut and test it.
You stop waiting for your boss to notice you. You ask for what you want or you leave.
You stop performing for the invisible jury. You start making decisions based on what's true, not what's safe.
You stop consuming content as a substitute for action. You recognize that books and podcasts won't give you what you need—investing in yourself will get you further, faster.
You stop believing you can do this alone. You find men you can trust. You stop seeing other men as competition or threats and start seeing them as allies in the work.
The Cage Is Open
Here's the truth: the cage has been open for a while.
You're the one standing at the door, waiting for permission to walk through it.
No one is coming to give it to you.
You have to steal the key. You have to walk into the woods. You have to risk disappointing the Queen.
And when you do, you'll discover something:
The wild man wasn't your enemy. He was the part of you that's been waiting to come alive.
The part that doesn't need permission. The part that knows.
If you're done waiting for permission and ready to reclaim your authority, I'm opening a limited number of 1-on-1 guidance spots.
This isn't another course. It's direct work with someone who's walked this path and can help you find the key under your own pillow.
Join the waitlist here.
There's hope. But you have to stop asking for it and start claiming it.
-Alex
