A little over six months ago, I met a man named Omar Khan.

At the time, I had no idea what he wanted from the Stronghold of Sultans, and I had absolutely no expectations of him. I knew he was a professional, a certified life coach, and I figured he might drop into the group occasionally, leave a few comments, offer some advice, and disappear for weeks or months like so many people do.

I was wrong.

After getting to know him a little, I attended his first session. And I want to say something publicly that I have no shame in admitting.

I am not the same man I was six months ago.

Those sessions took me into places within myself that I had spent decades avoiding.

Imposter syndrome. Insecurities. Low self-esteem. Things from my childhood. Things involving my parents. Old wounds I thought I had buried, only to discover they had been quietly influencing my decisions, my relationships, and the way I saw myself for most of my life.

And none of this was easy.

There were sessions when I became so frustrated that I interrupted Omar and told him, “I’m done. I’m not doing this anymore. This is too hard.”

Sometimes I felt like he was blaming me. I would explain something that had happened in my life, and he would ask questions that seemed to turn everything back toward me.

I didn’t like that.

What I eventually realized was that Omar wasn’t trying to blame me. He was trying to get me to see something I couldn’t see for myself.

There is a difference between being blamed for your past and being challenged to take responsibility for your future.

That distinction changed a lot for me.

I’ve come to think of those sessions as walking through a garden. Everybody wants to reach the roses, but sometimes you have to get pricked by a few thorns along the way.

And those thorns? They’re the uncomfortable truths. The moments of self-examination. The realization that some of the things you’ve blamed on circumstances, other people, or your past are things you now have the power to change.

Over these six months, I discovered something I hadn’t expected.

I wasn’t necessarily trying to become somebody new. I was learning to recognize the man I had always wanted to be, the man who had been buried beneath years of doubt, expectations, resentment, and battles within myself.

I learned that one of my greatest opponents had been staring back at me in the mirror for decades.

I even learned to appreciate my work, something I had struggled with for a long time. More importantly, I learned to appreciate myself without constantly measuring my worth against some impossible expectation.

Somewhere along the way, Omar and I also developed a genuine friendship.

And there’s something about that friendship I want to share because I believe every man in this Stronghold needs to understand it.

While I was busy trying to build the Stronghold of Sultans, Omar was helping rebuild the man behind it.

Think about that for a moment.

I was trying to build something that would help other men become stronger, while privately wrestling with things that had weakened me for much of my own life.

And I believe there’s a lesson in that.

Sometimes the man trying to help everybody else is the very man who needs someone to help him.

I’ve learned a great deal from Omar. I’ve also learned from many of you in this group. And one of the greatest lessons has been understanding what can happen when men come together with sincere intentions, hold one another accountable, and work toward something greater than themselves.

We need more friendships like that.

Not friendships built entirely around entertainment, small talk, complaining, or passing the time. And certainly not friendships where two men encourage each other’s bad habits and slowly drag one another into stagnation and mediocrity.

I’m talking about men who can sit across from each other and have difficult conversations. Men who tell each other the truth even when it’s uncomfortable. Men who want to see their friends succeed, not because there’s something in it for them, but because they genuinely care about the kind of men they become.

Our Prophet Muhammad ﷺ warned us about the influence of our companions:

“A man follows the religion of his close friend, so let each of you look at whom he befriends.” — Abu Dawud and Tirmidhi

That is profound advice.

The people you surround yourself with will influence your thinking, your habits, your ambitions, and even your relationship with Allah.

Choose carefully.

And don’t just look for good men to surround yourself with. Become the kind of man whose presence makes other men better.

Omar, I want to give you credit where it’s due. You challenged me when I didn’t want to be challenged. You asked questions I didn’t want to answer. And you helped me confront things I had carried for far too long.

For that, I’m genuinely grateful.

This isn’t an advertisement for life coaching. It’s a testimony about the value of sincere brotherhood, accountability, and the willingness to admit that no matter how old we are or how much we’ve experienced, we still have a great deal to learn.

I’m 54 years old. I’ve lived a lot of life. But these past six months have reminded me that a man never reaches an age where he’s finished growing.

The Stronghold was never supposed to be a place where perfect men gather. It was supposed to be a place where imperfect men help one another become better.

And sometimes, while you’re trying to build something that will outlive you, Allah places someone in your path who helps you rebuild yourself.

May Allah reward Omar for the good he’s done, and may He make all of us a source of strength and benefit to one another.

Better Men. Better Ummah.