In late 2025, an idea was born: a manga series following a group of men of different ages and from different walks of life as they navigated group therapy together.
The characters ranged from their twenties to their forties. Some were single, married, divorced, or widowed. There was a single father of one, a single father of three, a man in a polyamorous relationship, a military veteran, and another man navigating a long-distance relationship.

The series was intended to explore their individual experiences—the challenges they carried, how they processed what was happening in their lives, and how they learned to move forward while supporting one another. At its heart, the project was meant to address men’s mental health in an honest, compassionate, and non-toxic way.
The original inspiration came from my father, the eldest of five brothers. Each brother faced his own difficulties throughout life, but in their later years, most of them came to live together and support one another. Watching the way they relied on that shared bond inspired me to create a story centered on brotherhood, vulnerability, and mutual support.
At least, that was how it started.
How it evolved is an entirely different story.
The project initially featured a group of men from different backgrounds, inspired by real members of my team who had agreed to participate. Contracts were signed. Character images and alternate names were created. Everything appeared ready to move forward.
As an introduction to the larger project, we created the 2026 Calendar Men calendar. It featured six of the seven eventual participants, each depicted in a setting and costume designed to reflect his personality in the best possible way—while, of course, making him look like a complete stud.

During production, we began discussions with a West Coast company about a potential partnership. Its leadership claimed to have experience with this type of project, so we moved forward with conversations about development, marketing, and content creation.
Then the problems began.
During the process, we learned that the head of the prospective partner company had allegedly been applying emotional pressure to one of the participants. Based on what was shared with us, she appeared to be holding both the opportunity and his connection to the group over his head, threatening abandonment if he did not comply with what she wanted.
At the same time, she presented a very different version of events to several key members of my team, attempting to persuade them that this participant was not who he appeared to be and that they should distance themselves from him.

She later requested the title of Chief Operating Officer within my company. By then, the company filing process was already underway and could not easily be changed. More importantly, I was deeply uncomfortable giving her that level of authority.
There were other warning signs as well. During conversations about the project, people openly took notes and discussed recreating or taking the concept for themselves. It was the first time I had experienced that degree of open provocation surrounding one of my creative properties. Protecting the project began to feel like an exhausting game of whack-a-mole.
Eventually, we created a private server where the core team could discuss creative development and business matters more securely.
As more troubling information came to light, it became clear to my team and me that the partnership needed to end. When circumstances in my personal life changed, I used the opportunity to bring the collaboration—and her involvement with my company—to a close. Soon afterward, others who understood the full extent of what had happened also separated themselves from her.
Later, she contacted me and invited me to participate in a version of the project that she had apparently decided to continue independently.
What she failed to understand was that the images and technology were never the heart of the concept. Without its original creative vision, emotional insight, and purpose, the project would have been little more than a shell.
We ultimately came to believe that the concept was being repurposed as a way to attract men romantically—using AI image-generation technology to create idealized versions of them, but without the meaningful stories or mental-health focus that had defined the original project.

Several months later, members of her online community entered one of my livestreams. I had never been on bad terms with them, so I greeted them warmly and asked how everyone was doing. They told me she had stepped away for an indefinite hiatus and that they did not know whether she would return. The last I heard, several online romances had begun and ended following our separation.
As for whether the original project will ever be resurrected, the answer is: possibly.
I still believe men’s mental health deserves to be addressed in a compassionate, non-toxic way—one centered on mutual support and understanding rather than assigning blame to any single group. Men need spaces where they can be honest about what they carry without being mocked, weaponized, or told that vulnerability makes them weak.
That purpose still matters to me.
For now, however, the project will remain on the back burner until the time—and the team—are right for its resurrection.


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