Inside an exclusive ‘man camp,’ where one woman is trying to save men from themselves

Inside an exclusive ‘man camp,’ where one woman is trying to save men from themselves

Inside an exclusive man camp where – This secluded valley has long been a crucible of resilience, where the very soil carries the weight of years spent in endurance and rebirth. The vineyards here are a testament to the fragility of strength, with grapes that require precise timing to thrive. Harvest too soon, and they turn sour; delay too long, and they lose their vigor. The winemakers, attuned to these nuances, understand the cost of miscalculation. Yet, behind a stately gate in a setting of quiet elegance, a different kind of transformation takes place. Three men are embarking on a journey to redefine themselves, investing thousands of dollars to confront their inner struggles through emotional exposure and collective healing. Their path mirrors the delicate balance of the vines—fragile yet determined, vulnerable yet hopeful.

A Vision Beyond the Stereotype

Lori Jean Glass, the architect of this initiative, has spent over a decade crafting programs to support male mental health. Her retreats, unlike traditional therapy sessions, blend mindfulness, roleplay, and introspective exercises in a setting that feels as much like a sanctuary as it does a battleground. Glass, a self-described advocate for reimagining masculinity, insists her camps offer a counterpoint to the toxic narratives dominating the digital age. “Men are struggling,” she says, her voice steady but urgent. “They need a new way to connect with themselves and each other.”

Initially, many participants joined reluctantly, encouraged by spouses who had previously attended her women’s retreats. But as the years passed, demand has grown, with more men choosing to enroll independently. This shift reflects a broader societal trend: an increasing number of men feel isolated in a world that glorifies stoicism and dismisses emotional vulnerability. The manosphere—a hyper-masculine online movement—has amplified this divide, promoting ideologies that prioritize dominance over compassion. Glass’s program stands as a defiant rebuttal to these trends, offering a space where men can shed the armor of solitude and embrace the messiness of feeling.

“Vulnerability is out; after a few post-#MeToo years in the wilderness, the alpha male is back. With a vengeance,” Glass notes. Her retreats aim to dismantle this ideal, replacing it with a more inclusive understanding of manhood. “It’s about creating a better way forward,” she explains. “A path where men can be both strong and soft, confident and connected.”

The camp’s five-day structure is designed to push participants beyond their comfort zones. Each morning begins with yoga, followed by intense therapy sessions and group activities that demand emotional honesty. Roleplay exercises, art therapy, and collaborative challenges replace the traditional masculine norms of competition and silence. “We’re not just teaching men to talk about their feelings,” Glass says. “We’re redefining what it means to be a man in a world that’s become too rigid.”

Statistics That Speak Volumes

Data underscores the urgency of Glass’s mission. A Gallup study last year revealed that one in four young American men reported feeling lonely the day prior. This figure, though alarming, is part of a larger pattern: in 2021, the Survey Center on American Life found that around one in six men claimed to have no close friends, a fivefold increase from three decades earlier. These numbers highlight a growing crisis of connection, with men disproportionately affected by the silent suffering of depression. Despite lower diagnosis rates compared to women, men are four times more likely to die by suicide, a disparity that researchers attribute to societal expectations of emotional restraint.

Such statistics have fueled Glass’s belief that men require intentional spaces to process their emotions. “We’re seeing a generation that’s been told to toughen up,” she says. “But when you don’t have a voice, you become a victim of your own silence.” Her retreats, she argues, are a vital intervention. “Men need leaders who understand their pain, not just their strength,” she emphasizes. “They need to be shown that vulnerability isn’t a weakness—it’s a bridge to healing.”

A Battle Against the Manosphere

Glass’s work is now challenged by the manosphere’s rise. Influencers like Andrew Tate, Adin Ross, and Myron Gaines have popularized a vision of masculinity rooted in financial success, physical dominance, and emotional control. Their messages echo through social media, convincing millions that true manhood is measured by power, not by connection. “For every five men who enter our camp, tens of millions are watching these figures online,” Glass says. “They’re being shaped by a narrative that equates masculinity with rigidity.”

The retreat’s participants are a microcosm of this struggle. Matt Sanders, 61, arrives grappling with the loss of his wife. Jason Owens, 52, deals with the grief of his father’s passing. Both are seeking a way to reconcile their personal pain with the pressures of modern manhood. Meanwhile, a younger man in the group is questioning the expectations of emotional stoicism that have defined his life. “I used to think crying was a sign of weakness,” he admits. “But here, it’s a form of strength.”

Glass’s personal journey is as much a part of her mission as the programs themselves. Her own history includes moments of despair, but she sees a path forward through her work. “I want to teach this process in every high school across America,” she says. “I want to pull boys away from the red-pilled rhetoric that promises strength but offers isolation.” Her vision is ambitious, yet grounded in the belief that redefining masculinity can foster resilience in a fractured society.

CNN reporters Rob Picheta and David Culver, who attended one of Glass’s recent retreats, describe an experience that began with skepticism. The camp’s luxurious surroundings and high cost ($5,000 per person) initially raised questions about its effectiveness. “It’s easy to roll your eyes at the Californianess of it all,” one reporter remarks. “But what we found was something far more complex.” The participants, though diverse in age and background, shared a common thread: a desire to break free from the constraints of a masculinity that prioritizes silence over expression.

As the retreat progresses, the initial doubt gives way to reflection. The men are not just learning to talk about their emotions—they are unlearning years of conditioning. “This is a place where you can be honest without judgment,” one participant says. “Where you don’t have to hide who you are.” Glass, ever the strategist, has built a program that challenges the very foundations of the manosphere, offering a vision of masculinity that is both authentic and inclusive. Her fight, though lonely, is a necessary one in a world that has grown too quick to define strength in isolation.