The Reality Check

Brodotype:
Let's start simple. You have a son arriving in six weeks. Why aren't you excited?

Brody:
Simple? This is going to suck.

It’s not that I’m not excited. It’s that I don’t feel ready to let myself be excited yet. I was laid off two months before our second kid arrives. I’m not angry about the layoff. I’m not spiraling. But it created a stability gap, and that gap feels like something I need to close before I allow celebration to take over.

The Morning Thought

Brodotype:
When you wake up, what's the first thing your brain scans for?

Brody:
I scan for energy. I wake up next to my two-year-old (not by choice, but honestly not so bad), get him ready for school (+1 energy). Gym (+1 energy).

Then… nothing. Slack isn’t there. My inbox is spam. The calendar that used to be too full is empty. And that emptiness doesn’t feel freeing... it feels like -50 energy.

That’s not meant to sound as depressing as it came across. I’m not searching for purpose. I have that with my family, my friends, and myself. What I’m searching for is stabilizing energy.

My career, building things with other people, has always given me more energy than it’s taken. Energy I reinvest into parenting, relationships, growth. Without that outlet, I feel slightly untethered.

A bit of a side tangent, but relevant. It's kind of strange that I talk about stability. I've taken a great deal of pride throughout my life in navigating through ambiguous, unstable situations. There are clearly defined problems in front of me:

  1. I need income to support a growing family.

  2. I need work that gives me more energy than it takes.

  3. I need durability — low odds of being back here in two years.

  4. I need the headspace to give my newborn what he deserves.

I know the advice: “Give yourself permission to focus on #4 even if 1–3 aren’t solved.”

I’m just not there yet.

The Guilt Layer

Brodotype:
Are you more stressed about money, or more ashamed that money is what's on your mind?

Brody:
I'm not stressed about money. I'm definitely ashamed that money is constantly on my mind, but that's nothing new. Financial freedom is my one of my personal key metrics that I hold myself highly accountable to. Financially we're ok for a while - and probably even more than a while if necessary.

But in thinking about this question, money is only one form of currency that we need in today's world. I need to think a bit more around the various types of currency we use in our society and how this current situation affects these. (thinking about things like social, professional, relationship, etc.) - Would love my readers thoughts if you have any!

The Identity Probe

Brodotype:
How much of this is about protecting your family --- and how much is
about protecting your identity?

Brody:
This is a fascinating question to me (thank you to myself for asking it). Society would have me say this is 80% about protecting my family. The truth? Right now it’s 80% about protecting my identity. Modern fatherhood expects emotional presence in a way previous generations weren’t asked to deliver. I love that shift. It’s better. But internally, I still feel like a provider first. I feel like I need to stabilize myself before I can fully give to others. Outwardly, if I act on that instinct too strongly, it risks looking like emotional avoidance. So there’s a battle: Protect the family by stabilizing VS. protect the family by being present.

Losing a job triggers that battle immediately.

The Biology Hypothesis

Brodotype:
You keep thinking this feels like it could have a biological component. What evidence do you actually have for that beyond your feelings?

Brody:
There’s some interesting research in stress psychology that suggests men and women respond differently to threat; not because one is selfish and the other is selfless, but because different stress circuits tend to light up.

In a lot of cultures (including the United States), men grow up tying their identity to provision and stability. So when financial security feels shaky, the body doesn’t treat that like a mild inconvenience, it can register it as a threat - that seems to be what's happening here. Cortisol rises, attention narrows, and the brain shifts into “stabilize the ground” mode. When stability feels threatened, that stress response tends to take priority.

At the same time, after doing some counter-research on fatherhood, science shows men are absolutely wired for bonding. Testosterone often drops (<-- found this fascinating), attachment hormones increase, and involved fathers show strong caregiving responses. The biology for connection is very real - but when stress is high, bonding can get crowded out.

The tension might not be that men are wired to put themselves first. It might be that stress chemistry and bonding chemistry don’t fully run at the same time. When security feels unstable, vigilance can crowd out joy.

Modern fatherhood asks men to be emotionally present and celebratory. But if your nervous system feels like the perimeter isn’t secure, it’s hard to relax into celebration. It’s not a lack of love. It might just be a stress response trying to restore safety first.

The Body Scan

Brodotype:
When you think about not having a job with a baby on the way, what happens in your body?

Brody:
I feel on alert all the time. Like my body refuses to fully relax. My Oura ring confirms it — elevated stress, disrupted recovery.

The exhaustion isn’t just physical. It’s cognitive. I’m more distracted. Less intentional. It’s harder to drop into deep focus. The daily gym and meditation help. They keep the reaction contained for a few hours. But the baseline hum is always there.

The Cultural Question

Brodotype:
Modern fatherhood expects a significant amount of emotional presence. Do you feel like your nervous system is aligned with that expectation?

Brody:
No - not at all. My nervous system continues to override my emotional presence, reminding me that there is a gap that needs to be filled and a sense of stability returned. I feel like i'm fighting against it rather than aligned with it.

The Counterfactual

Brodotype:
If you were financially secure tomorrow, would you instantly feel joy? Or is that a convenient story?

Brody:
That’s a convenient story. It’s not just about money. It’s about instability.

Not having a job creates a quiet form of chaos. It looks like “free time.” It looks like “opportunity.” But underneath it feels like an unfinished obligation — and because provision is foundational, it keeps rising to the top of my mental priority list.

The Toddler Contrast

Brodotype:
You're fully present with your two-year-old. Why does that feel different?

Brody:
I added this question thinking I'd have something meaningful to say - but to be honest, I don't. I’m fully present with my two-year-old because there isn’t much ambiguity there. He needs me. Now. That's not to take away from how much I love being with him, but regardless if I loved it or hated it, the choice to be present doesn't feel much like a choice at all.

The baby isn’t here yet. He requires nothing from me directly. He needs everything from my wife… so my nervous system stays oriented toward the visible gap, not the future joy.

The Integration

Brodotype:
Is it possible that your urgency to stabilize things is actually love, just expressed as vigilance instead of celebration?

Brody:
I’m not sure it’s love in the traditional sense. I think it’s urgency.

I know I can get a job before the baby arrives. So I’ve turned it into a task, something that must be completed before I allow myself to move on to celebration.

If the baby arrives and I’m still in this gap, I suspect something will shift. I’ll reprioritize presence over stabilization, at least temporarily. The anxiety fills a need. It creates motion. Whether that’s helpful or not is another question.

Closing Reflection

I feel the pull toward stabilization before celebration. I feel guilty that that’s my instinct. I do believe there’s a biological component… stress narrows focus toward security. But I also believe everyone handles instability differently. The key for me is awareness.

Understanding what’s driving the urgency. Understanding what it costs. Understanding what it protects.

This isn’t a sob story. I’m excited about the next chapter. I’m excited about my second son. I’m grateful for the space to think about what I actually want next. But there is tension.

There’s a low-grade chaos that sits underneath the surface when stability disappears - even for someone who prides himself on resilience.

This is just me naming it.

Keep Reading