What to Do If You Lack a Male Role Model or Positive Father Figure
Introduction: The Quiet Gap
Some men inherit land. Some inherit tools. Some inherit wisdom.But many inherit only silence.
For countless men, the father was absent, distracted, or present in body but not in leadership. No roadmap. No blueprint. Just trial and error. The cost of that silence shows up in decades of drift—bad decisions, wasted years, broken relationships, lost money, and a constant question: Who was supposed to guide me?
On Fathers and Guidance
If you had a father, take it easy on "dear old dad." He was caught in the same machinery that shaped millions of men—aligned to the debt path I often write about. He lacked guidance himself, and in the end he did what he thought was right: kept his head down, worked, and made sure there was a roof over your head and food on the table. That was his war.If that’s you now—if you feel the absence of guidance pressing in—understand this: that absence is not the end of your story. It is the beginning of another kind. You are the one who must build your compass. And this is no punishment. It is an opportunity. For the man who forges himself from absence often becomes a beacon for others. We layer thee forums with some powerful wisdom. But there is many things I cannot make public as they are very male-centric. Meaning, the left has this language thing that plays games with people to stop them from communicating and understanding and they use their "Cancel Culture" to achieve their goals. But we now have technology on our side and good men are now sporting their Enterprise Ring gaining them access to our Male-Centric life truths.
I am not here to sell you anything. This forum holds free articles meant to steady you and help align your life. And if you cross paths with the men who wear the Empire Ring—at our dinner parties, at our BBQs—you’ll find them to be steady hands. Men who build, men who teach. If they find in you the same forward motion, you may be invited into our private board meetings where companies are born.
How is it done? Not through oaths. You hand a man your phone. He scans his ring. The system doesn’t recognize the IP, so it asks for his special code. He enters it. Another validation fires—a text goes to his own phone, confirming he’s sponsoring you. And then—bam—you are a brother.! We coach our guys to be on the lookout for good men who will be receptive to the good life of productive men. Men of the Empire Ring, the builders and owners of LLC. No memorized rituals. No politics. Just men, mentoring men. “Father Knows Best” style. Your journey begins with a forum link, more validations, and the gradual recognition of your IP across all your devices. That’s how we know it’s you. From there, your path unfolds: reading, watching, learning—and eventually entering the vast ecosystem that teaches you how to build companies, step by step, inside our LLC forums.
Member Gifting and Brotherhood
I will tell this story, because many still ask me: “How did this all begin?”I’m Flynn, the founder of the Empire Ring. And the truth is—it began not as theory, not as a speech or a post, but as action and what God put in my heart.
I'm like a priest or monk. I am fiercely devotional and I'm 59 in my final few decades I hope. I still have time to engineer my gift to humanity.
AI powered Technocracy that is aligned for the common man. You are NOT a "Human Resource" to be used up and spit out. I am aligning things so men and women will be able to have a system that does not exploit them. The entire brotherhood philosophy is we focus on the new guys. Get them recalibrated and on their feet.
Family is the first network most people ever know, but it doesn’t always mean blood. Brotherhood and sisterhood—when chosen—become extensions of family. They carry the same traits: loyalty, shared burdens, mutual protection, and legacy.
The First Brother... Brother "Moses."
When you say “the only truth in life is Family,” you’re anchoring everything else to continuity. Businesses can fail, governments shift, fortunes rise and fall—but bonds of family and chosen kin are what endure. Brotherhood and sisterhood matter because they give people a place where trust outweighs transaction, where contribution is remembered, and where continuity survives beyond any single individual.
It began with a man I call “Moses.”
He was two thousand dollars behind on his property taxes. A sick wife waited at home. A daughter looked to him for stability. The bills stacked like bricks on his back. And still, he swung the hammer. He drove the truck. He poured the concrete. He pushed forward with the stubborn rhythm of a man who knew no other way.
But the truth is merciless: the body always breaks before the will does. His hands were scarred, his shoulders worn down, his breath labored. He was cornered—not by weakness of spirit, but by the mathematics of life. The rigged game of the bankers and debt slavery ensnared us all. Myself, massive tool debt.
Moses wasn’t a man asking for pity. He wasn’t a man who quit. He was the kind of man who would have kept grinding himself into the dust if someone hadn’t stood beside him. And that’s when I knew: Brotherhood isn’t theory. Brotherhood is cash in an envelope when it’s needed most. It’s proof, not promise.
That is as real as it gets. It was a gift. Not a loan, not leverage, not something to hang over his head. I tell this story because it must be told—not to remind him, but to remind us all. Proof of philosophy matters. If Brotherhood is real, then it shows up in moments like this, when a man needs only a reset, a hand steadying the wheel so his family doesn’t go off the cliff. A brother will never let another man’s family be homeless. Not while he can stand. Not while he can act.
Moses didn’t need saving. He needed space to breathe. That two thousand dollars was oxygen—not charity, but continuity. The difference between collapse and another day’s work.
That moment was the seed. And from that seed grew the truth: Brotherhood is not an idea. It is an inheritance we build, one act at a time.
That was the beginning. Not a speech. Not a business plan. A single act.
Have you noticed how the world is quick to sell you ideas, but rarely offers anything real? What we stand for is tangible. Land beneath our feet. Shops with tools and lights we control. Rows of food we plant, harvest, and share. And at the center of it all—the family dinner table.
We come together, not just to eat, but to speak. To share recipes, stories, and the presence of God in the ordinary. Brotherhood and sisterhood live in those moments: in the laughter, in the prayer before the meal, in the certainty that no one at the table stands alone.
The more the world tears at family, the more we will build it. The more noise, the more silence we will find together. We will not fight their chaos; we will walk away from it. Onto private land. Into shops we own. Around tables we set with our own hands.
I wasn’t a young man either. Fifty-seven at the time. I had already walked away from the corporate machine—the Woke machinery of HR departments that chewed men in their fifties to pieces and replaced them with cheaper imports. After twenty-eight years of being targeted, overworked, and set up to fail, I had finally left. And when I walked out that door, I was smiling. After nearly three decades of hell, I was free to build.
That freedom led me to Moses. I met him in the paving shop of a concrete company. He walked in dressed in clothes shredded by cement, the dust of labor ground into every seam. Concrete dries, hardens, and tears at everything it touches. Yet behind the ruin, I saw it in his eyes—goodness. Old-world goodness. Italian stock. That tells you something right there: a man of family, a husband faithful to his wife, a worker who does what is right. A man with God in his heart.
We sat down over pizza. The shop was noisy, the kind of place where men’s stories come out raw and unpolished. I told him my past—not just the battles I’d survived, but the scars that proved it. And then I told him my future.
I painted a picture: fields of food in the country, not just a farm but a living system. A shop where men could work with their hands, sleep without worry, eat meals that filled the body and the soul. A place where laundry was washed, work gloves, jeans and boots were mended, and the dignity of a man was restored piece by piece.
Moses leaned in. He listened the way only men who have been cornered by life can listen. And when I finished, he didn’t ask for guarantees, contracts, or promises. He simply said, “I want in.”
That was the beginning of something larger than either of us.
I bring the business and IT backbone. During COVID I went back to school and earned a degree in diesel mechanics—so now I have cross-cutting skills. I can code an enterprise system with AI one day, and the next I can put on gloves and fix an engine. My welding? Needs practice. But that’s the beauty of it—we keep learning.
And that is how it began. Not as a brand. Not as an idea in a book. But two men, scarred by time and industry, sitting over a pizza and daring to dream about something bigger than ourselves.
It is both shield and compass. Shield—against division, distraction, and decline. Compass—toward growth, resilience, and legacy.
Every decision, every system, every structure bends back to this: the continuity of business, the continuity of brotherhood. Together, they form the lifeline that ensures our work outlives us, and our fellowship cannot be fractured.
God and Brotherhood
That night, I sat on the edge of my bed and thought: this is a good man—a man who refuses to quit, who keeps swinging no matter how hard the weight bears down. And I knew then: if brotherhood is to mean anything, it must reveal itself in moments like this.
The next morning, I walked into the bank, withdrew the cash, sealed it in an envelope, and drove to his home. He was at work working concrete, hosing down trucks, his clothes stiff with the day’s labor. I didn’t want the money slipping from his pocket or lost in the cement truck mixer. So I handed it to his wife instead. A good women of more than three decades by his side. I told her plainly what I was building: that her husband was not just a worker or a friend, but the first brother in a business group that would outlast us both.
Days later, he sent me the receipt—taxes paid. That wasn’t about me being a hero. It was about remembering something our culture has tried to bury: without brotherhood, we are sunk. The global stage has always turned its weight against good men. But our answer is not to fight their war. It is to walk away, to build life-systems of our own. Quietly, steadily, together.
Brother "Moses" the First Brother of the Empire Ring
And let me tell you about this good man.
Before I ever met him in the paving shop, Moses was a long-haul trucker. Life on the road is lonely, miles rolling under your wheels while the world forgets your name. Yet even out there, he carried more than freight—he carried compassion. When he stopped in towns and saw the homeless, he didn’t look away. He fed them. Out of his own pocket, out of his own heart.
That’s who he was—and still is. A man whose heart is pure gold.
Moses was our first brother. The living proof that what we are building isn’t theory. It’s flesh and blood, family and faith, action that solves real-world family issues.
2019, Flynn in Washington, DC as a Technical Manager
In 2019, I was a technical manager in Washington, D.C. From the high glass tower where I worked, I looked down at the street below. There, on the sidewalk, sat a homeless woman with a baby in her arms. People stopped. They dropped money into her cup. Some offered food. Others gave her clothes. But no one offered what she truly needed—a life solution.
That image haunted me. Because I knew, deep in my bones, that God created men to be providers and protectors of women and children. And yet, here we were, in a world that had programmed men to step aside, to forget their purpose, to outsource their strength.
When I told this story to Moses, I felt my eyes burn, and I let the tears come. He did not judge. He only listened, with the same steady kindness I had seen in his work-worn eyes from the beginning. And in that moment, I knew: this man would embrace the path God had set me on.
I laughed through the tears and told him, “This is just God leaking out my eyes again.” And then I spoke to him like a priest, unburdening myself completely. Moses listened—not to correct, not to criticize—but to receive. And in that listening, he became my guide. To this day, he still is.
I made him a promise that night. A promise that I would never let him down. And beyond him, a promise to the woman on the street with the baby in her arms—that I would change my life and make the world a better place.
So I did. I quit my job in the glass tower and went home. I signed up for diesel school. People were raving about electric engines, but I knew the truth: diesel grows your food. Diesel tills the soil, hauls the grain, delivers the bread. Without it, there is no table, no dinner, no continuity of life.
And soon, we will take the next step: our first farm. From that ground we will raise a mountain of food, enough to feed our families, our brothers, our neighbors. A living system that proves independence is possible.
I even locked the domain for the food site, because this isn’t just a dream—it’s a blueprint. A plan already set in motion.
So now we stand together. As men, as brothers. We are not here to fight the world’s chaos—we are here to build something better. A place where families endure, where dignity returns, where God’s order is restored.
This is the call: as men, we come together to make the world a better place.
But how? Over time I figured out that the Near Field Communication NFC tags could be used to launch private websites that connect everyone.
Economic freedom will come from people mastering the world NO to useless "Woke" colleges. They say NO to being a wage slave and embrace the
knowledge and skills it takes to create their own LLC companies. See the LLC forums to better your life and join us.
Empire Ring
This is just a little $40 silver ring.
The NFC sticker costs about $1.
What makes it powerful is the string the phone reads when scanned.
The string is 488 characters of our encode brotherhood data.
It tells the systems who you are and your world opens up.
Welcome to the Brotherhood.
Welcome to the Family.
Here is our first little fun dashboard.
It's just filled with interesting video links.
But it is a sample of a private world.
There is no security on it...so enjoy.
https://unit.link/manoffocus
What does all this mean?
It means this: you will never be alone again.
You have your brothers to back you up. When things turn bad, you pick up the phone and we answer. That’s what Brotherhood is. Not talk, not theory—action, presence, proof.
I engineer the systems so men—and good women—who are sick of being wage slaves can walk into something different. You come to a business group meeting, you sit down at a dinner party, and instead of complaining about the world, we talk about what we will build.
We speak of projects.
We speak of real estate.
We speak of flipping cars and trucks.
Of welding, of marketing, of code.
At Code-Night.com, I gather my brothers on a Saturday evening. We share a good dinner. I show them the progress of the week—the systems built, the businesses launched—and then we open the forum. Everyone has a voice. The new companies are planned there, and before the night is over, papers are filed. New LLCs are born with the Department of State.
And hear this clearly: a college degree is not required.
I earned four of them, and most of it was a waste. Woke theory. Empty courses. Designed not to equip but to indoctrinate—steering men and women away from God’s path. I walked through that fire so others wouldn’t have to. I can tell you now: what matters is not the piece of paper, but what you build with your hands, your mind, and your brothers beside you.
The Empire Ring means you are with men and good women who mastered the word NO as a life choice.
This article will show you what to do if you lack a male role model or positive father figure, step by step.
Step One: Accept the Absence
The first step is brutal honesty. If your father or male role models failed you, don’t sugarcoat it. Don’t cling to the fantasy of “someday he’ll change.” He won’t.You can respect what he was—a provider, a presence, or simply the man who brought you into existence—without excusing what he wasn’t. Accept that the baton wasn’t passed properly. That acceptance frees you from waiting.
Key idea: You’re not broken for lacking guidance. You’re simply at the starting line of building your own.
Step Two: Reject the Victim Mindset
The culture around you will tempt you into victimhood: “My father wasn’t there, so I failed.” That story sells pity but robs power.Instead, frame it like this: “Because no one guided me, I learned to guide myself. And because I learned to guide myself, I can now guide others.”
This is what I call The Self-Forged Path. It’s not easy, but it is powerful. Men who walked cushioned lives rarely build empires. Men who walk without maps, if they survive, become cartographers for everyone else.
Step Three: Build a Virtual Council of Fathers
If you lack a father, you build one—piece by piece.History, philosophy, and literature are filled with men who left us their thoughts. Marcus Aurelius can teach you how to govern yourself. Musashi can teach you discipline and combat. Benjamin Franklin can teach you curiosity and industry. Seneca can teach you how to endure hardship.
What your father never gave you, books can. This is why we say: read like your life depends on it—because it does.
Form a council in your mind. When faced with a decision, imagine asking Marcus Aurelius, Musashi, Franklin, and Seneca what they would do. This isn’t fantasy. It’s mentorship across centuries.
Ebook...Start here brothers... strive to be a better man.
Meditations of Marcus Aurelius Full Audiobook [in Modern English ] 2024
Step Four: Seek Living Mentors
Books give principles. Living men give feedback.If your father never guided you, seek men who can—not as replacements, but as mentors, coaches, and allies. You’ll know them by their fruit:
- They build, not just talk.
- They are respected, not popular.
- They carry themselves with quiet authority, not arrogance.
Step Five: Audit Your Peer Group
Without a father figure, you’re especially vulnerable to weak peers filling the vacuum. Look around. Are your friends disciplined? Or are they drifting?Your peer group can either multiply your progress or chain you to mediocrity. If they mock your ambition, laugh at your focus, or drag you into habits that dull your mind—cut them loose.
You’re not obligated to stay in the orbit of weak men. Forge alliances with builders. Even if they are few, one solid ally outweighs ten drinking buddies.
Step Six: Become Your Own Father
This is the pivot point.Ask yourself: If I had a strong father, what would he tell me right now?
Would he tell you to stop scrolling and start building? To go to the gym? To open that book? To start the LLC? To quit the toxic relationship? To travel?
You already know what a father should say. Say it to yourself. Then obey.
This is called internal fatherhood. It’s a skill. And once you master it, you’ll stop looking backward and start leading forward.
Step Seven: Establish Rituals of Strength
A father would have taught you discipline. So you must teach it to yourself.- Fitness: Your body is your first fortress. Train it daily.
- Finances: Track every dollar. Learn investing, not just spending.
- Focus: Build time blocks. Create sacred hours of production.
- Faith or Philosophy: Anchor yourself in something larger than yourself.
Step Eight: Build Legacy Early
Most men drift until midlife, then panic. If you lacked guidance, you can’t afford that luxury. Start building early—assets, systems, networks, skills.Legacy is not just children. Legacy is infrastructure. A business. A book. A body of work. A group of men you led into success.
Ask yourself daily: If I died today, what would remain? Then build accordingly.
Step Nine: Find Brotherhood
Even the strongest self-forged man needs allies. Brotherhood isn’t about quantity. It’s about shared mission.Find men who are also building. Men who want more than comfort. Men who understand discipline. Then work together: share knowledge, invest, build, travel, create.
This is the essence of a private network. Not a social club. Not a fraternity. A brotherhood of execution.
Step Ten: Become the Father You Never Had
In the end, the true cure for lacking a father is becoming one. Not necessarily biologically—though that may come—but spiritually, economically, and structurally.Be the man younger men look to. Build systems that outlast you. Speak truths that guide others. Train the lost. Mentor the hungry.
Your father may have failed you. That doesn’t mean you must fail the next generation.
The Empire Ring Standard
Inside the Empire Ring vision, the ring is not a trinket. It is a proof. A man who earns it has shown:- Contribution: He built.
- Respect: He earned it.
- Consistency: He showed up.
- Conduct: He carried himself lawfully, respectfully, and honorably.
Conclusion: The Self-Forged Compass
If you lacked a father figure, you did not lose your future. You simply lost the shortcut.What you must do is harder—but also greater. You must become the architect of your own guidance. And in doing so, you join the lineage of men who built themselves from nothing and then gave others everything.
Absence made you hungry. Hunger makes you disciplined. Discipline makes you powerful.
You are not the son of silence. You are the father of a new lineage. Build accordingly.
The Empire Ring
They point fingers at men.
They say we are the problem.
They fill the airwaves with accusations—greed, privilege, arrogance, decline.
White men. Old men. Working men.
The media finds a villain, then builds its empire of outrage upon his back.
But here’s the truth they never speak:
While they argue, we build.
While they shame, we weld.
While they scapegoat, we structure companies, draft contracts, raise steel, plant seeds, and generate wealth.
Noise does not endure.
Proof does.
The Empire Ring is not an answer to their accusations.
It is a new architecture.
A sovereign brotherhood of builders who carry the Prime Directive: Business and Brotherhood Continuity.
It is the forever going concern, the machine that outlasts men, media cycles, and mobs alike.
We do not waste time defending ourselves.
We create systems that make defense unnecessary.
We do not fight labels.
We establish legacies.
We do not chase headlines.
We write history.
This is the technocracy of builders.
Not red pill. Not grievance. Not noise.
Action. Structure. Continuity.
A brotherhood that cannot be canceled because it does not ask permission.
It builds in silence, until the silence becomes a fortress.
And when the storm passes—and it always does—
our shops will still be lit,
our boardrooms will still be full,
our sons will still be working beside us,
and our empires will still be growing.
That is the Empire Ring.
Not given. Not bought. Not begged for.
Earned, built, and enduring.
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