I want to take a moment to be open about the subscriptions in the League of Heroes. As much as I’d love for this group to be completely free forever, there’s a lot we’re building here — and more importantly, a lot we want to do beyond the screen. The small subscription fees serve a few very intentional purposes: Helping people who are less fortunate through direct acts of kindness, support, and outreach Keeping the League vibrant and alive, with courses, missions, tools, and ongoing community care Creating real-world resources like training manuals, guides, and paraphernalia that members can actually use and keep Every dollar that comes in is folded back into the mission. This isn’t about profit — it’s about sustainability, reach, and impact. The fees are intentionally small, and my hope is always that anyone who chooses to support the League gets far more value, growth, and connection than what they ever pay in return. There will always be ways to participate here, contribute in non-monetary ways, and be part of the mission. This is a community first and always. Thank you for being here. Thank you for helping keep the League strong. The world needs heroes — and we build them together. 🛡️

Not every Superhero looks like your stereotypical Superhero!

Every superhero story starts the same way. Not with strength. Not with confidence. Not with a perfect life. It starts with someone ordinary who feels the weight of the world and decides: “Someone has to do something. Maybe it can be me.” Superheroes wear masks not to hide who they are — but to protect the parts of themselves that are still healing. Batman lost his parents. Superman lost his home. Spider-Man lost his innocence. The costume didn’t erase their pain. It gave them permission to act anyway. The League of Heroes exists for the same reason. Not to pretend we’re fearless — but to practice courage in small, real ways. If you’ve ever felt that pull to help… to stand up… to matter… You’re in the right place. 🛡️ Welcome to the League.

Why I Started the League of Heroes — from The First Shield Ever since I was a kid, I’ve wanted to be a superhero. Not in the “laser eyes and punching buildings” way—though let’s be honest, that would’ve been fun—but in the job sense. I used to joke that if I could just have a job where I had a secret door somewhere, a hidden identity, and my entire responsibility was to go out into the world and help people all day… I’d be set for life. I always wondered how superheroes paid for everything. The gadgets. The bases. The cars. The time. But the part that stuck with me wasn’t the tech—it was the purpose. The idea that you could wake up every day knowing exactly why you’re here. Not to doom scroll. Not to argue with strangers online. Not to feel stuck, numb, or small. But to matter—even if no one ever claps for it. As I got older, I realized something important: The fact that superheroes aren’t real doesn’t mean heroism isn’t. Every superhero story is really about a person dealing with something they can’t quite fix. Batman didn’t stop missing his parents—he built a mission around that pain. Superman never stopped being an outsider—he chose to adopt this world anyway. Almost every hero has a flaw, an insecurity, a wound they carry. The mask doesn’t erase it. The persona gives them a way to stand taller despite it. That’s something we don’t talk about enough. A superhero persona isn’t about pretending you’re perfect. It’s about creating a version of yourself that can step forward when the regular you feels unsure, afraid, or overwhelmed. It’s a way to cover up—not hide, but protect—the parts of yourself that are still healing while you do something good anyway. That pull—the desire to put on a costume, a mask, a cape, even just in spirit—that’s not childish. It’s human. It’s the instinct to say, “I want to be more than my doubts. I want to be defined by what I stand for, not what I’m missing.” The League of Heroes exists for people who feel that pull. Not to play pretend.