Why Matt's work Matters

How to find comfort in the uncomfortable by embracing vulnerability, resilience, and the raw edges of life

I am Matt, and I am finally free. Are you?

—Matt, from I spent years of my life afraid to say "no."

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Credit: Etienne Girdardet on Unsplash

I recently began reading a newsletter called Matters with Matt, and it has allowed me to feel a quiet rebellion inside my soul—against the superficiality of modern life—which ventures beyond the ordinary, towards the raw edges of existence.

Matthias Andrei (Matt for friends) shares stories that challenge beliefs, provoke emotions, and force me to confront uncomfortable truths¹.

Matt’s work is a journey of rediscovery, rooted in the present, reminding me to resist complacency. It inspires me to seek meaning in a seemingly shallow world, urging me to engage with life’s complexities—not just to consume his words, but to live with them, to question and reflect.

Matt’s stories, whether exploring love, trauma, or the labyrinth of human consciousness, linger like shadows in my thoughts, asking difficult questions rather than offering easy answers:

• What matters most in life?

• What are we willing to sacrifice in the pursuit of success?

• How do we heal from the wounds of our past?

Matt’s work matters, as they aren’t just stories.

They are transformations in perspective, offering new ways to see the world and our place within it.

Is the price of success worth it?

Matt forces us to confront the uncomfortable cost of ambition in his article The Price of Success.

It tells the story of Jake, a man who seems to have it all:

• the prestigious career,

• the luxurious lifestyle,

• the accolades.

But the pursuit of success comes at a steep price—his relationships.

Through Matt’s writing, we feel the weight of Jake’s missed moments—unmade phone calls, holidays spent away.

It all builds to a heartbreaking climax when Jake returns home, only to find he is too late—his father has died.

The story is a punch to the gut, leaving readers to ask: Was it all worth it?

Matt doesn’t just tell Jake’s story; he holds up a mirror to us all, reminding us that as we chase our dreams and build our careers, time slips away.

The people we love can fade into the background if we’re not careful.

It’s a wake-up call—a reminder that success, with all its glittering appeal, often comes with loss.

We must ask ourselves if the price is too high.

Kintsugi: Can broken pieces ever be put back together?

In another deeply moving piece, I Was Six Years Old the First Time My Father Hit Me, Matt explores trauma, survival, and the long road to healing.

It begins with one life-shattering moment—Matt’s first encounter with physical abuse at the hands of his father—and unfolds into a narrative of years marked by fear, isolation, and pain.

But what makes this story so powerful is that it’s not just about recounting trauma; it’s about resilience.

Matt guides us through his darkest moments, revealing the strength it took to rise from the ashes.

He confronts hard truths about how his father's violence left both visible and invisible scars, yet this pain eventually became the foundation for the life he would build when he chose to walk away from the darkness.

This story resonates with my own journey, reminding me how difficult it is to reconcile the trauma of the past.

Scars serve as reminders, sometimes hard to ignore.

But as Matt teaches, it’s not the marks on our bodies that define us—it’s how we choose to rebuild.

I find healing in the art of Kintsugi, the Japanese practice of repairing broken pottery with gold.

It treats breakage and repair as part of the object’s history, not something to hide².

[For more information on Kintsugi, click here.]

The awkwardness of growth

Matt’s work often lightens the emotional load with humor and nostalgia, as in Kissed and Confused: A Memoir of Childhood Trauma.

In this piece, he recalls his first kiss during a game of hide-and-seek.

What begins as an uncomfortable, bewildering experience becomes a moment of transformation, told with humor and fondness.

The awkwardness of that kiss—once a violation of personal space—morphs into a metaphor for life’s unpredictable twists.

Matt reminds us that life’s most significant moments are often small, strange events that unexpectedly shape who we become.

His storytelling invites us to embrace our own awkwardness, to laugh at our missteps, and to see them as essential threads weaving our lives together.

A testament to courage

One of the most powerful stories Matt shares is The night my mother finally left him.

It’s a quiet yet powerful account of the night his mother found the courage to leave an abusive relationship³.

At 12 years old, Matt vividly recalls the scene—his father passed out on the couch, his mother’s trembling hands as they prepared to leave the only life they’d known.

What makes this story so impactful is that Matt reveals courage isn’t always loud or heroic.

It often lies in the quiet, determined steps we take in the face of fear.

His mother’s decision wasn’t just an act of survival—it was an act of love for herself and her son.

Through this story, Matt learns—and teaches—what it truly means to be brave.

It’s a story that resonates with me, as I’ve faced my own battles with abusive relationships, as well as addictions.

Matt’s story sheds light on the strength it takes to overcome trauma and rebuild a life, reminding me that overcoming these challenges can be one of the most empowering things a person can do.

When we think we’re invincible…

In I was 20 years old. Young, invincible. Or so I thought…, Matt recounts the moment that shattered his sense of invincibility: a head-on collision at 70 miles per hour.

The crash left him physically and emotionally broken, and Matt takes us through the painful aftermath—PTSD (a clinical description for Hell on Earth), sleepless nights, haunted by twisted metal and shattered glass.

But like all of his work, this story is ultimately about transformation.

Through therapy, community, and particularly writing, Matt alchemized his pain into purpose⁴.

His recovery, though slow and marked by setbacks, serves as a reminder that trauma, while breaking us, also has the potential to rebuild us, making us stronger and wiser.

Reclaiming ourselves

One of the most difficult lessons I’ve had to learn, and one that Matt explores in I spent years of my life afraid to say “no.”, is the importance of setting boundaries.

Conditioned in childhood to be the “good” son, Matt spent much of his life saying yes when he really wanted to say no.

Through therapy and writing, Matt began to reclaim his autonomy, learning to set the boundaries necessary to protect his energy and well-being. His reflection is deeply personal yet universal:

The transformation wasn't easy. It was a slow unraveling, a shedding of skin I had outgrown. Therapy helped. Writing helped—bleeding my truth onto the page, night after night.

I began setting boundaries. Saying 'no' to the things that drained me, to the people who took without giving. It was terrifying, exhilarating, and ultimately, the most empowering thing I've ever done.

Did people get upset? Sure. Did I lose friends? Maybe.

But the ones who truly mattered… they understood. They saw the me I was becoming. The real me.

And you know what? I kind of like him.

The question "Are you?" hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken truths.

This passage for the article resonates within me, a loud shout inside my minds churning thoughts; it’s for anyone who has struggled to prioritize themselves, whether out of fear, disappointment, or selfishness.

His writing shows that saying no isn’t defiance—it’s an act of self-love.

The question remains, are you willing to say no when you need to?

Why Matters with Matt matters

I began this article wondering why Matt’s work matters, and I believe I’ve found the answer.

Matt weaves vulnerability, humor, and wisdom into a space where readers are invited to confront their own lives with honesty and courage, embracing discomfort, asking difficult questions, and accepting the beautifully complex mess of being human.

It doesn’t offer easy resolutions, or simple answers.

His writing delves into the weight of our choices, the lingering impact of loss, and the resilience that guides us toward hope.

Matters with Matt is a breath of fresh air in a disconnected and superficial world⁵.

Though not always an easy read, Matt’s work matters because it’s real, raw, and exactly what we need.

How often do you let your true self emerge, unguarded, when faced with the uncomfortable truths in your own life?

1. Full disclosure:

I was sexually abused as a child by people thought to be family friends.

It’s something most of my family still doesn’t know.

For the longest time, I played into a victim mindset—something I still catch myself doing—letting past traumas hold power over my present.

Matt’s writing has allowed me the space to see past the pain, and work towards the pursuit of purpose.

2. This philosophy, like Matt’s writing, embraces growth, change, and the beautiful awkwardness of healing.

3. For victims of domestic violence around the world, several global resources and universal steps can help:

1. Global Helplines: Services like the United Nations Women's Helpline and Hot Peach Pages provide directories of domestic violence hotlines and shelters in various countries. The Global Network of Women's Shelters connects victims to shelters worldwide.

2. Universal Emergency Support: In immediate danger, victims can contact local emergency services (911, 112, or your country's equivalent). Most countries also have 24/7 confidential domestic violence helplines.

3. Shelters and Safe Spaces: Many nations offer shelters and safe houses. Global platforms like WAVE Network help connect victims to support networks and housing in various regions.

4. Legal Protection: Victims can access legal aid through protective laws such as restraining orders, with global organizations like Equality Now advocating for improved protections and rights.

Regardless of where you are, you are not alone.

Reach out to trusted helplines, create a safety plan, and connect with global or local organizations to access the support needed to leave an abusive situation.

4. An excerpt from the article reads:

"Trauma can be a catalyst for transformation, if we let it."

‘If we can bear it, to feel it. To alchemise it into something else.’

"Something stronger, something wiser. Something beautiful, something true."

That was my lesson then, my banner now, the truth I hand down. Not because I'm special, not because I'm perfect. But because I'm human, I'm flawed. And in my flaws, in my cracks? There is gold. There is grace. There is a story worth telling, a light worth shining.

5. Some of the reason I currently perceive the world this way include:

• Modern individualism, which fosters isolation despite personal freedom

• How digital communication weakens emotional connections, highlighted by Sherry Turkle’s Alone Together

• The relentless pursuit of success leads to feelings of emptiness, revealed through the work Barry Schwartz in The Paradox of Choice

• The decline of deep reading not only reduces our engagement with complex ideas, but also diminishes critical thinking, empathy, and the ability to sustain focus, leading to a more shallow understanding of the world

• Carl Rogers' concept of incongruence, found in On Becoming a Person (particularly on pages 65, 129, 132, 138, 145, 167, 288-92)

• In Man’s Search for Meaning, Victor Frankl discusses the existential vacuum. An excerpt from page 111 reads:

“The existential vacuum is a widespread phenomenon of the twentieth century. This is understandable; it may be due to a twofold loss which man has had to undergo since he became a truly human being. At the beginning of human history, man lost some of the basic animal instincts in which an animal's behavior is imbedded and by which it is secured. Such security, like Paradise, is closed to man forever; man has to make choices. In addition to this, however, man has suffered another loss in his more recent development inasmuch as the traditions which buttressed his behavior are now rapidly diminishing. No instinct tells him what he has to do, and no tradition tells him what he ought to do; sometimes he does not even know what he wishes to do. Instead, he either wishes to do what other people do (conformism) or he does what other people wish him to do (totalitarianism).”