Advertise on podcast: Psyche

In Part Two of this ongoing reflection on Heated Rivalry, I slow down and focus on the interior life of Shane Hollander and why his character has resonated so deeply with autistic and neurodivergent viewers, even without the show ever naming him as such. Rather than treating this as a question of diagnosis, I explore Shane as a way of being in the world — his pacing, his relationship to regulation, structure, intimacy, and safety — and why that portrayal feels so recognizably human to so many people. From a therapeutic lens, I reflect on representation beyond stereotypes, the cost of masking, and what it means to be in relationships that adapt to a nervous system rather than demand performance from it. This episode is one thread in a much larger conversation. There are many other angles still to explore in Heated Rivalry— cultural, relational, clinical, and symbolic — and this reflection is meant as a continuation, not a conclusion

In this episode, I sit with Heated Rivalry not as a show to review, but as a story that quietly pushes against the emotional tone so much of our culture has normalized. In a media landscape saturated with cynicism, distance, and dystopian assumptions about intimacy, this series lingers on warmth, pleasure, and the slow, imperfect development of trust. From a therapeutic perspective, I explore why that matters — especially for men, for queer and neurodivergent people, and for anyone who has learned to expect that closeness will come at a cost. I reflect on masculinity beyond emotional shutdown or collapse, on intimacy without guarantees, and on why therapy itself can be understood as an anti-dystopian practice rooted in the belief that connection, under the right conditions, does not destroy us. This episode is only one way into Heated Rivalry. There are many other angles still to explore — relational, symbolic, cultural, and clinical — and this conversation is very much the beginning rather than the conclusion.

In this solo episode, I reflect on a moment from my clinical work with a young male client who brought in a conversation from the Joe Rogan podcast, where online debater Andrew Wilson suggested that therapy is ineffective and that what people really need is simply a good friend. Rather than responding defensively, I take the question seriously and explore a deeper philosophical and psychological inquiry: what actually makes therapy different from just talking to a friend? Drawing on ideas from the therapeutic frame, research on listening, and the role of ritual and experience in psychological change, I reflect on how therapy functions as a distinct kind of relationship — one shaped by structure, depth, attention, and meaning. This is not an argument that everyone needs therapy, but a reflection on what therapy can offer when it works well, how it differs from everyday conversation, and why both friendship and therapy may serve different but complementary roles in a human life.

I don’t usually post public criticism. It’s just not really my mode. I’m far more interested in dialogue, curiosity, and building ideas than tearing other people’s work apart. But in this episode, I reflect on why I found a recent Jungian podcast on polyamory genuinely disappointing—not simply because I disagree with its conclusions, but because I expected more depth, more reflexivity, and more psychological subtlety from a tradition that prides itself on precisely those things. I explore the limits of how polyamory was framed in that conversation, including the use of straw-man arguments, the assumption that sexuality is fundamentally about attachment, and the tendency to psychologize or spiritualize lived relational realities into “inner” symbolic processes. Along the way, I ask a deeper question: if we’re going to analyze the unconscious motivations of people who practice polyamory, are we also willing to examine our own unconscious reactions against it? This is not an episode defending or promoting any particular relationship structure. It’s an invitation to take depth psychology seriously—especially when it becomes morally or emotionally charged—and to ask whether suspicion, discomfort, and archetypal loyalty are being mistaken for psychological insight. In other words: what happens when a depth tradition stops turning its tools back on itself?

On a drive home after dinner with my kids, listening to Tim Henson’s Original Sin, a constellation of ideas came together around the work and life of psychoanalytic philosopher Mari Ruti. This episode is a personal, creative reflection on Ruti as a kind of “meek rebel” — someone deeply relational, politically engaged, and radically committed to inner freedom without ever surrendering herself to social belonging. At the heart of the episode is a story I heard from Gail Newman about Ruti’s time in Vienna: how she accepted the invitation to collaborate on The Creative Self, but only if she could rent her own apartment — needing solitude not as withdrawal, but as the condition of her thinking, writing, and creativity. Thinking with Rami Kaminski’s idea of otroversion, and drawing on Ruti’s own words about singularity, intimate revolt, and the limits of external revolution, this episode is an affectionate, speculative portrait of a life oriented toward depth over performance, inner freedom over recognition, and creativity over coherence. Not a scholarly argument — just a meditation on what it might mean to live a deeply relational life without ever losing one’s singularity.

In this solo episode, I reflect on two recent conversations that have been quietly reshaping how I think about faith, love, and identity—my dialogue with theologian David Congdon on polyamorous Christianity, and my conversation with Rami Kaminski on otroversion and The Gift of Not Belonging. On the surface, these episodes come from very different worlds. But as I sit with them, I begin to hear a shared invitation: to step out of inherited scripts, resist mono-normative ways of living, and take responsibility for crafting an ethical, relational, and spiritual life that is truly our own. This episode explores the courage it takes to choose your own adventure—to discover your authentic voice, to seek deep connection without losing yourself to groupthink, and to live without the false safety of guarantees. Drawing from my work as a therapist and from the heart of Green Flags, I reflect on what it means to belong without disappearing, to love without rigid rules, and to build a life rooted in curiosity, integrity, and real intimacy. If you’ve ever felt like you don’t quite fit the scripts you were handed—this one is for you.

What if not belonging isn’t a flaw—but a form of freedom? In this episode of Psyche, I sit down with psychiatrist and author Dr. Rami Kaminski to explore his powerful book, The Gift of Not Belonging: How Outsiders Thrive in a World of Joiners. Together, we unpack his concept of otrovertness—a way of being in the world where a person may appear gentle, kind, and socially capable on the outside, yet internally refuses to surrender their identity to groupthink, ideology, or social pressure. Dr. Kaminski describes the otrovert as a kind of meek rebel: someone who doesn’t need to be loud, defiant, or disruptive in order to be free. Instead, their rebellion is inward—rooted in the radical act of thinking for themselves, feeling for themselves, and refusing to let the crowd define who they are. We talk about how modern culture confuses belonging with safety, how early socialization trains us to trade authenticity for acceptance, and why so many sensitive, neurodivergent, and deeply thoughtful people grow up feeling like outsiders—even when they seem to “fit in” just fine. This conversation also explores: Why connection is not the same as belonging How otrovertness relates to autonomy, attachment, and inner freedom Why obedience often gets mistaken for goodness And how living outside the emotional herd can actually lead to a calmer, more meaningful life If you’ve ever felt like you were never meant to live according to someone else’s script—this episode will speak directly to you.

In this episode of Psyche Podcast, I’m joined by theologian David Congdon for a deep, wide-ranging conversation about desire, love, polyamory, and the future of Christianity. For centuries, Christian theology has treated eros, sexuality, and pleasure as something dangerous — something to be controlled, disciplined, or confined to narrow moral boundaries. David’s new book challenges that entire framework. Drawing on theology, philosophy, and queer theory, he asks what it would mean to imagine a Christianity where God, desire, and human love are not in competition with one another. We talk about why Christianity has been so suspicious of pleasure, how monogamy became a moral norm, and what a non-competitive vision of love might look like. Along the way, we explore Donna Haraway’s concept of natureculture, Carrie Jenkins’ philosophy of love, jealousy and compersion, and why a resurrection-centered faith opens the door to a more abundant, joyful, and inclusive understanding of intimacy. We also dive into the cult film Shortbus as a surprising parable of the church — a community built around permeability, forgiveness, and the courage to let in the new. This episode isn’t about tearing faith down. It’s about asking what kind of love, spirituality, and community might become possible if we stopped confusing scarcity with holiness. Listen in for a conversation about eros, grace, and a church that could be otherwise.

In this episode, I draw the second film from my New York Times Jenga movie deck—Anchorman—and end up somewhere I didn’t expect: a surprisingly intimate reflection on masculinity, emotional development, and the quiet fragility beneath alpha performance. Using both the film and stories from my clinical work with men and couples, I explore how so many of us were taught to perform masculinity without ever being taught how to feel, relate, or truly know ourselves. What Anchorman turns into comedy, I often see in the therapy room: men who look confident on the outside but feel disconnected, angry, or numb on the inside. I also bring in Jorge Ferrer’s idea of the “omega male”—a relational, emotionally grounded alternative to dominance-based masculinity—to imagine what might emerge when the alpha role finally collapses. This isn’t a movie review. It’s a reflection on how masculinity breaks—and what might grow in its place.

What if intimacy was never meant to come with guarantees? In this solo episode, I explore how psychotherapy often inherits a quiet promise—that if we choose the right relationship structure, heal enough, or communicate well enough, intimacy will eventually become safe and predictable. Drawing on my clinical work, reflections on anti-mononormativity, and insights inspired by Eduardo Viveiros de Castro’s Cannibal Metaphysics, I suggest a different way of holding love and relationship. Rather than treating intimacy as something that should protect us from change, I explore the idea that intimacy is inherently risky—not in a harmful way, but in a deeply human one. To love is to be affected, transformed, and sometimes undone by another person. No relationship structure—monogamous or otherwise—eliminates that risk; it only organizes it differently. This episode is not an argument for or against monogamy or polyamory. It’s a reflection on moving away from relational essentialism and toward a view of relationships grounded in perspective, relatedness, and transformation. Along the way, I draw on real clinical moments, explore jealousy as information rather than pathology, and reflect on therapy’s deeper task—not guaranteeing safety, but building capacity to stay present while we’re being changed. If you’ve ever wondered why love still feels hard even when you’re “doing everything right,” this episode is an invitation to think about intimacy in a more honest, compassionate, and spacious way.

In this episode, I sit with a question that’s been quietly shaping a lot of my clinical work and personal reflection: What kind of masculinity are we actually bringing into our relationships? Inspired by a provocative appendix from Jorge Ferrer’s Love and Freedom, I explore his contrast between the “Alpha Male” and the “Omega Man”—not as fixed identities or ideals, but as relational patterns that shape how men experience confidence, desire, power, and intimacy. Rather than critiquing Ferrer, I use his framework as a doorway into something more personal and clinical: how masculinity often becomes organized around performance, hierarchy, and validation—and what begins to shift when it moves toward presence, self-trust, and relational safety. Along the way, I reflect on: Why gender language always risks essentialism—and how to hold it lightly How these dynamics show up quietly in the therapy room Why gentleness, empathy, aesthetics, and emotional attunement are still coded as “unmanly” How sexuality changes when it’s no longer treated as a referendum on worth And why masculinity doesn’t need to be defended through hardness in order to remain potent This isn’t an episode about becoming a “better man,” or replacing one masculine ideal with another. It’s an invitation to get curious about what allows relationships—and desire—to breathe. If you’ve ever felt alienated by hyper-masculine bravado or flattened versions of “healthy masculinity,” this conversation is for you.

Jealousy is one of the most misunderstood human emotions. It’s often either justified as proof of love or dismissed as something we should simply get over. In this episode, I take a different approach—exploring jealousy as a complex emotional signal that can sometimes serve us, while also examining the ways it becomes shaped and intensified by cultural scripts like patriarchy, scarcity, and comparison. Drawing on insights from Jorge Ferrer—especially his reflections in Love and Freedom on sympathetic joy (mudita)—I explore how jealousy can be transformed rather than suppressed. Sympathetic joy is not about denying jealousy, but about developing the capacity to genuinely celebrate the happiness and success of others without experiencing it as a threat. I also reflect on ideas from my book Green Flags: How to Be the Kind of Person You Need in Your Life, particularly the challenge many of us face in celebrating the “wins” of others. Often, our difficulty rejoicing in someone else’s joy has less to do with them—and more to do with our own insecurities and fear of scarcity. Throughout the episode, I explore how jealousy is shaped by evolutionary factors, attachment history, and sociocultural conditioning, and how psychotherapy can help us discern when jealousy is pointing to a real relational issue—and when it has become a barrier to freedom, intimacy, and joy. This is a conversation about moving beyond possession and comparison toward discernment, emotional maturity, and the possibility of shared joy—without moralizing, bypassing, or pretending jealousy doesn’t exist.

In this episode, I explore the idea of mononormativity—the assumption that there is one correct structure for love, desire, maturity, and even healing—and how deeply it shapes religion, psychology, and spirituality. Drawing on the work of David Congdon, Angela Willey, and Jorge Ferrer, I examine how appeals to “nature,” normality, and spiritual maturity often function less as descriptions of reality and more as tools of moral control. Across these traditions, plurality tends to be tolerated—but rarely trusted. A key thread in this episode comes from philosopher Carrie Jenkins, who offers a powerful alternative metaphor: relationships—and life itself—as a choose-your-own-adventure. Rather than assuming a single correct path, this framework invites us to think in terms of responsible navigation, open futures, and ethical discernment without guarantees. This is a conversation about desire as information rather than threat, plurality as a condition of growth rather than a failure of integration, and what becomes possible when we stop confusing uniformity with wisdom. It’s an invitation to rethink love, healing, and spirituality beyond rigid scripts—and to imagine forms of maturity that can hold complexity without panic.

In this episode of Psyche Podcast, I’m joined by psychoanalyst, writer, and host of Rendering Unconscious, Vanessa Sinclair, for a wide-ranging and deeply human conversation at the intersection of psychology, film, culture, enchantment, and resistance. We begin by tracing Vanessa’s journey from Miami to New York to Sweden, her early adoption of telehealth long before it became the norm, and the origins of her podcast as a way of sustaining intellectual and creative community across borders. From there, we dive into a rich clinical and philosophical discussion of Melancholia (2011), which Vanessa describes as her favorite film of all time. Using Melancholia as a lens, we explore depression and anxiety not simply as pathologies to be cured, but as meaningful responses to a profoundly disordered world. We contrast Kirsten Dunst’s melancholic attunement with Charlotte Gainsbourg’s anxious drive for control, examine how certainty, rationalism, and “trusting the experts” can collapse under existential pressure, and reflect on how denial, productivity, and optimism can become fragile defenses in the face of catastrophe. From there, the conversation opens outward into questions of intuition, magical thinking, colonialism, patriarchy, monotheism, pluralism, and the loss of an enchanted worldview. Vanessa offers a powerful critique of how modern culture trains us to distrust our inner compass—pathologizing intuition, ritual, synchronicity, and imagination—while outsourcing meaning to algorithms, experts, and online consensus. We talk about art, astrology, animism, psychoanalysis, and why having your own experience of something matters more than reading reviews or interpretations first. Clinically, we reflect on the dangers of romanticizing depression while still honoring its depth, especially in the context of systemic injustice, poverty, medical trauma, and institutional failure. Vanessa shares moving reflections from her work in hospital settings and HIV clinics, underscoring the limits of therapy when material conditions are fundamentally inhumane—and why self-care, community, and moments of joy are not luxuries but necessities. We close by returning to the film’s final images of relational connection in the face of annihilation, and what they suggest about how meaning, care, and presence might still be possible—even when the world feels like it’s ending. This is a conversation about depression, anxiety, art, magic, justice, and what it means to remain human in a disenchanted age—and why reclaiming depth, intuition, and connection may be one of the most radical acts available to us.

In this episode of Psyche Podcast, I’m joined by my friend Phuc Luu for a wide-ranging and deeply personal conversation about Letter to His Father by Franz Kafka. Kafka’s letter is often described as one of the most raw and devastating documents in modern literature—and for good reason. Written as an attempt to explain his lifelong fear of his father, the letter becomes an unflinching examination of authority, power, guilt, shame, and the psychological formation of the self. Together, Phuc and I explore why this text is emotionally difficult yet strikingly clear, and how Kafka’s relationship with his father shaped not only his inner life but also his creativity, relationships, and sense of agency in the world. Our conversation moves through themes of fatherhood as an archetype, the role of authority as influence rather than domination, and how early relational wounds can become internalized as an inner critic or superego. We reflect on Kafka’s struggle with trust—both in others and in himself—his awareness of hypocrisy and projection, and the tragic weight of guilt that followed him throughout his life without any real sense of acquittal or redemption. At the same time, we resist reducing Kafka’s father to a caricature. Like Kafka himself, we hold space for nuance—acknowledging both the harm and the humanity present in parental relationships. From there, we connect the letter to contemporary questions: How do we relate to our parents as adults? When does cutting off family become protective, and when does it prevent growth? How do we move from victimhood toward agency without denying real harm? We close by reflecting on what Kafka’s letter teaches us about fatherhood—not just as a biological role, but as an archetypal function. What does it mean to be a father figure who creates space for experimentation, difference, and becoming? And how can therapists, mentors, and teachers embody authority that empowers rather than constrains? This episode is a meditation on woundedness and creativity, guilt and grace, and the difficult but necessary work of making meaning out of our earliest relationships.