When a Helicopter Pilot Learns to Stop Running
- Mark

- 5 days ago
- 5 min read

I've had dozens of conversations on KneeToKnee, but there are moments in certain episodes where I feel the air in the room shift. My conversation with Jesse Munns was one of those moments.
Jesse came into the studio as a veteran helicopter pilot—nearly 20 years of flying high-stakes missions, from Vegas tours to EMS helicopters, from offshore oil rigs to agricultural spraying. The resume is impressive. The outside looked successful, driven, accomplished.
But that's not the story we talked about.
We talked about what happens when a man spends 17 years running from himself.
The Climb That Wasn't Upward
Jesse took the civilian route to becoming a helicopter pilot, which meant grinding through every hour, every rating, every job to build experience. He started with a $100 intro flight that turned into dropping out of college. From flight instruction to Lake Powell tours to the Gulf of Mexico and eventually EMS—each step was progress on paper.
But underneath that climb, Jesse was developing what he calls "bad habits." He was losing himself in the identity of being a pilot. It became everything—what he ate, drank, slept. It was who he was.
And when his first marriage ended in 2017, that identity couldn't save him.
The divorce put him in devastating debt. He was working overtime, traveling to see his kids on a five-and-two schedule, then a week-on, week-off rotation. He was grinding, surviving, putting on a good face when people asked how he was doing.
"Yeah, I'm doing great."
But behind the scenes? Drowning.
The Loneliness of Compartmentalization
One thing Jesse said that stuck with me: as a pilot, he could compartmentalize. When the tones dropped for an EMS call, the depression went into a box. The pilot kicked in. He could fly the mission, bring everyone back safely, and then—only then—would all those emotions come flooding back.
It worked in the air. But once he was out of flying, there was nowhere left to hide.
I understand that more than I want to admit. After my 40-foot fall, I had months of rehabilitation where compartmentalization wasn't an option. You can't put pain in a box when it's the only thing your body is telling you about. Jesse and I share that understanding—when the thing that used to save you is gone, you have to face everything you've been running from.
For Jesse, that meant facing his pornography addiction. His need for external validation. His fear.
Especially the fear.
The Fear Beneath the Coping
Jesse's new wife saw something in him that he couldn't see in himself. She told him, "I see the man in you. You're better than this. You need to start changing things because you say you want your life one way, but your actions are completely different."
That's a hard conversation to be on the receiving end of. I believe we have all been in a hard conversation, maybe not the same reasons, but difficult none the less. When someone you love holds up a mirror and says, "This isn't who you are," it takes courage on both sides—courage for them to say it, and courage for you to hear it.
For Jesse, that moment became the catalyst. He realized he wasn't just chasing dopamine or adrenaline through pornography. He was running from a deeper fear: the fear of losing his wife, the fear of becoming a father who another child, the fear of losing everything again.
And that fear was making him hide. It was making him sit on the couch next to his wife, scrolling through his phone while she sat right there. No connection. No presence. Just avoidance.
Men Bond Over Scars, Not Victories
One of the most powerful things Jesse said during our conversation was this: "Men bond more over the scars than they do over victories."
I've seen this play out in my own life. "My pilot buddies from years ago—we can go eight years without seeing each other, and when we reconnect, it's like we just flew a tour together yesterday. But we're not talking about the great flights," he said.
I've experience the same when it comes to wildland fires, when I chat with an 'old' fire dog friend of my, we're talking about the hard ones. The close calls. Sometimes the losses.
Jesse noticed the same thing. When he started opening up to his buddies about his struggles, they opened up too. "Dude, so am I," they'd say.
That realization led him to create Awakened Iron & Soul—a brotherhood where men can drop the mask, face their fears, and forge real connections through brutal honesty and faith.
The Three Steps: Awaken, Forge, Find Peace
Jesse breaks down the process of healing into three steps.
First, you have to sit with yourself and identify the coping mechanisms, the escapism, the bad habits you're using to hide from pain. You have to name what you're running from.
Second, you face it head-on. That's where the "forged in fire" concept comes in. Steel only becomes its cleanest in the hottest fire. It gets red-hot, breaks down, and gets molded into something new. All the impurities are melted away, and you're left with the true, cleanest core.
Jesse carried lies for 17 years. "Once a cheater, always a cheater." "You're a deadbeat dad." "You abandoned your kids." "You got kicked out of your church." Those lies weighed on him until he could finally see them for what they were—just lies. Not his identity. Just choices he made in moments, not who he was at his core.
Once he forgave himself and let those lies go, he could start with a clean slate. It doesn't erase what happened. That's still his story. But he could move forward and make the rest of his life better than the first part.
The third step? Finding peace in your soul. Being able to look in the mirror for longer than five seconds and say, "We've been through some hard times, but look where we're at. We're still here. We're still doing good."
The 20-Second Challenge
At the end of every episode, I ask guests for one thing listeners can do today to build deeper connections. Jesse's answer was simple but profound.
Take 20 seconds. Look in the mirror and tell yourself one good thing about yourself. Or better yet—tell yourself a truth that you've been telling yourself a lie.
Sit with that. Believe it. Then call someone you trust and tell them that truth.
It's uncomfortable. I know it is. But Jesse's point is this: once you feel that validation—once you realize the person on the other end of that call didn't shun you or abandon you—the rest of the work will follow.
We all crawl at some point. Healing doesn't have to be a leap or a sprint. It's just one movement in the right direction. That's what changes everything.
Why This Conversation Matters
I started KneeToKnee because I believe connection is medicine. I've lived it. After my fall, it wasn't willpower or tactics that got me through—it was the people who showed up. The relationships that refused to let me go through it alone.
Jesse's story is another piece of evidence for that truth. He was drowning in shame, guilt, and fear, but one conversation with his wife—one moment of someone seeing him for who he truly was—became the turning point.
And now, through Awakened Iron & Soul, he's creating a space for other men to experience that same liberation. A place where men can stop running, face the fire, and discover they're not alone.
Because the truth is, so many men are sitting on their couches right now, scrolling through their phones, feeling isolated and stuck. They're grinding through the motions, putting on a good face, but drowning behind the scenes.
If that's you, hear this: there's hope. Always hope. You're not stuck. You're not your worst choices. And you don't have to go through this alone.
Take 20 seconds. Look in the mirror. Tell yourself one truth. Then make the call.
The rest will follow.
To watch the full episode: https://youtu.be/MrjECgld_Ug





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