Relationship Lessons – Part 2: Vetting

“She’s the one.”

How many men have said this with a girl they’ve just met?

How many men have told their friends and family about a woman who they saw, asked out, and said this?

How many men have said this simply by judging a 5 minute conversation they had with an attractive woman?

How many men have said this after a first date?

How many men have said this after several dates?

And how many men have been absolutely destroyed when they find out that the woman behind the beauty is a crazy person?

How many men have fallen asleep on the fact that the woman they fell for has more issues than Sports Illustrated?

How many men have realized the woman they thought they loved didn’t have a tenth of things in common with him that he thought?

We’ve all been there, gents.

My relationships always started off hot. But they fizzle fast. Why? Because, as men and women, especially in this day and age, when we find someone who is somewhat decent, we grab onto them like grim death, never looking at the potential consequences on not doing our homework on the person.

I’ve said many times that men will do research on cars, fitness, stuff they’re putting into their bodies, or buying a house, but when it comes to putting in the work on a woman they are dating, it’s fucking clown shoes.

Just because she’s got a pussy doesn’t mean she can skate by your scrutiny of her.

If any man truly wants a long term relationship with a woman, he has to know himself first. And to know himself, he has to have a checklist of major things that need to be in effect for her to even have a shot.

@ParabolicTrav has told me many times: “You determine who gets to be in your life.” Don’t sell yourself short on what you want in a relationship.

I consider vetting to be how a man, from the waist up, judges and checks a potential mate.

But how many men have truly vetted a woman? How many men have put her through her paces, asked the really tough questions, figured out the hang ups, or even had the uncomfortable conversations with her about certain things she believes, understands, or preaches about?

Vet and Vet Often

So how does one vet? If you’re like me, when I first got into a serious relationship, the first one with my future wife and ex-wife, I didn’t ask the questions, I merely let the relationship take over and take me with it. Why didn’t I ask the tough questions? Because, I was smitten, I figured she was okay, and for the most part she was, but there were several sticking points that came up after the relationship was established that should’ve derailed it, but it was too late.

So what is vetting?

Vetting is, in my words, a man’s big head telling the little head to slow the fuck down.

I’ve used an example of “shake her purse, and if it sounds like maracas, run.”

But seriously, you have to be able to look before you leap. Men fail to ask the tough, potentially interaction ending questions and allow the relationship and the woman to take the lead on this creature that is the potential relationship.

So what would a typical vetting session be about?

Have you asked a potential love interest:

  • If they are financially responsible?
  • if they have a history of mental issues?
  • if they are religious or not and if that jives with whether you are or not?
  • Does she have kids? Want them or not?
  • What’s her relationship with family, friends, her exes?
  • What habits does she have? Are they healthy or not? Does she drink too much? Smoke? Drugs?
  • Does she have feminist beliefs? What are her political preferences and is she open minded to other points of view?
  • Is she physically fit? Does she believe in being in good shape?
  • Does she share the same beliefs, goals, purpose, convictions?
  • Does she take responsibility for things she does or doesn’t do?
  • Does she take good care of herself mentally, spiritually, and physically?
  • Does she believe in traditional gender roles, or is she the boss and that’s it?
  • Does she keep a clean house?

These are just a sampling of the vetting questions men need to be asking women they are interested in. You are the captain of the ship. She can either get on board, or not. And the best way to ensure this is to keep vetting, even when the relationship progresses.

Good vetting only happens when you are solid in your frame and all of your life. You have a set of directives, goals, convictions and beliefs that you work off of. You hold to these unmovable traits. This is your FRAME.

She can choose to enter it or not, but when you have these sets of guidelines, she sees them, understands them, and then it becomes her choice to enter your world. But bear in mind, it is her choice, not yours. The minute you change to accommodate her, flex a piece of your frame, bend it and shape it to something other that what you apply in your own life, you’ve lost that part of the frame forever. You can’t get it back. Consistency is key in all of this. And keeping it consistent as well throughout the life of the relationship.

But the pull from the little guy is something that you must overcome. We’ve all seen hot girls, and when we see one our judgement is clouded by the prospect of blowing her back out.

Vetting helps to prevent this as well as puts you in control of the situation and how it is to go.

You have to ask the questions and not be upset if she walks.

You have to be able to hold your frame and be flexible on things not associated with your core values. She will bump up against that frame often to make sure you are holding true.

The Importance of It All

Why do I continue to push this?

Because, as with millions of men who have been affected, the modern man has not been properly introduced on the importance of vetting.

We see it every day. Men will do research on a car, house, stocks, crypto, etc., but when it comes to a woman, he’ll trust his dick over everything else.

And while she may make you feel good down there, the feeling of missed opportunities to feel her out while not wearing a condom come back to haunt men that take this road.

We see men who knew one thing about the woman they married but get a completely different person when the wedding ends. They get a woman who didn’t tell them she had declared bankruptcy, had Borderline Personality Disorder, had gone to jail, was a serial cheater, etc.

As a man, how much do you really know about her? Men ask me why they need to know things as long as she loves him. This is a disastrous mistake. A man must care about protecting himself, his frame, his assets, and other things that can be destroyed in divorce.

This is why, as a man, you have to park the urge to accept the woman just because she slept with you. When I lost my virginity at 27 to the woman I would eventually marry and then divorce, I didn’t have the intuition to ask the tough questions. I was fearful of losing steady pussy and a woman I thought I loved if I had decided to call the ball and take her to task on her questionable past.

With the state becoming a third party in marriage, it’s so important in this day and age for a man to properly vet a woman who wishes to become a part of his life. The stakes are incredibly high for men to protect everything they have and until more men start to see the consequences of marriage and divorce without vetting.

When you don’t do the work, you tend to get bit in the end.

There is also a misconception that you can vet EVERYTHING. You can’t. You, at least, must vet the BIG things, because you can’t anticipate all the little things you’ll miss.

And she’ll most certainly be vetting you, although most women don’t have to do the work that men need to do in order to vet their partner. The woman holds the keys to sex, the man holds the keys to commitment.

If you truly are a high value man and hold yourself in that regard, not just any woman can be with you. Your boundaries will determine what woman can be in your life. You will have a self contained assessment tool in your head about who can be in your life.

So vet and vet often. Work on securing and strengthening your boundaries, convictions, and beliefs, bending to no one when it comes to your core values.

And make sure a women who wants to be in your life is going to be good for your life.

Mistakes in accepting just anyone in relationships can cost a man dearly.

Bully

“Get up, porky.”

I was incoherent. But I’ll remember those three words for my whole life.

My head had just been smashed into a metal locker. And I was bleeding.

“I said, get up.”

I wasn’t getting up. I wasn’t even close to being able to. I was seeing little stars in my vision. I don’t know if I had a concussion, but damn, if this is what it felt like, I didn’t want one ever again.

I was just a 6th grader, packing my backpack in a crowded hallway with my locker open, minding my business, when I was pushed and my head smashed against my locker door.

I felt a kick to my side. It hadn’t been as painful as the head injury I had just sustained, but it knocked the breath out of me momentarily.

I lay there, crouched in a crowded hallway, as everyone walked past a dude kicking me. I remember much about this exchange, especially the people walking by. I fully realized that they weren’t gonna help me, because they wanted to see me get my ass throttled.

It was middle school. I was the fat kid with glasses. With daily comments about my man tits, my fat cheeks, my thick glasses, and my muffin top, it was only a matter of time before I was going to get my ass kicked and today, I was on the radar of the biggest bully in my grade.

So to say I wasn’t surprised when I was bleeding in the hallway that day was an understatement. To say I was surprised on how he got me was. He waited until I was on the floor digging into my locker to push me into the door. Then he started kicking me when I was down. But that’s how bullies work. I did the hard work for him so all he had to do was take advantage. Before he could get another kick in, a teacher stopped him. But it was of little comfort to me at the time.

And while this horrific day still rings true in my head, I’m glad he did what he did.

Because some 4 years later, I grew to 6’4″ 210lbs. I had been bullied all throughout my middle school and early high school years. But one day, it stopped.

Not because I hadn’t gotten any less nerdy, but because I had gotten bullied enough that I had nothing left to lose, and I made sure every person that had bullied me understood that.

But here’s the thing. This blog post is not intended to gain sympathy for me in my awkward and sometimes downright shitty adolescence.

It’s sole purpose is to show why society needs a bully, and why when you’ve had enough, still the best time honored situation to dealing with a bully is to punch him back in his fucking mouth.

The Need For The Bully

Bullies have been around since the dawn of humanity. There was always someone bigger, meaner, and more ruthless to take your shit from you. And as we have evolved into a more civilized species, bullying has taken on other forms. Some 30 plus years ago, when my middle school days were littered with inevitable pointing, laughing, beatings, jokes, comments and other not so pleasant actions taken in order to douse me in shame, nowadays it’s more of the cyber kind, with the same types of insults being hurled through the computer screen as opposed to the hallways.

The need for physical violence to take on the bully went from fists to guns during Columbine. A terrible tragedy of two boys who didn’t have proper parenting and who decided to murder the bully, a cost that is still felt today as we see school shootings happening.

But instead of empowering the meek to go after the bully in more constructive ways, we empowered the State to sanitize the system so that there were no bullies or bullied, but the socialism of the school, where there is no empowerment, only ceilings.

So began the War on the Bully.

There was a huge movement in the early 2000’s that has culminated today with the attack by society on bullies of every type. The now systematized shame towards the bully has not curtailed the bullying, it has simply put the bully pulpit in the hands of our illustrious elected leaders, teachers, administrators, and other adults who make decisions to protect everyone, even when those decisions affect everyone negatively.

“We must protect our children from bullies” has become the rallying cry for parents who refuse to teach and parent their kids about the importance of the reaction to bullies being an important part of mitigating them.

I believe fathers have truly dropped the ball in teaching their kids about focusing anger towards positive activities.

As we moved through the past three decades, I have seen on alarming issue that continues to come up and that is that parents have willingly given up the raising of their kids to the State. With all of these cultural movements throughout the 60’s to the 90’s, the State has subverted the family structure, becoming the de facto bully in all of this.

In short, the bullies have become the bullied. And the new bullies have men with guns.

When I was bullied, as many children were, my mother tried to reason with school administrators and teachers that her son was being bullied. All this did was make the bullying increase, for I was the kid who’s mom tattled on the offenders. My father gave better advice. “Punch them in the mouth.”

So I did. Even if it wasn’t literal. I stopped taking shit from the bullies. I stepped up and either physically or verbally jabbed them when they came close. I wasn’t going to fuck around anymore.

Why Columbine was important was it showed that how kids were dealing with bullies, and how parents weren’t helping their kids, in a violent manner was not the answer that these kids were looking for. But without guidance for anger and frustration, all it did was boil over into violence on a large scale.

Killing the bully does nothing and has tragic consequences. Beating up the bully, gaining psychological advantage over him, is where the kids need to be directed. The bully provides a challenge to the child. A challenge of either beating them physically, or like I did, beat them out verbally and mentally. And when a child is challenged and they overcome the challenge, it’s a lesson well learned.

Taking the Power Back

Some of the best lessons I’ve learned are when I was getting my ass kicked.

I know of no person who didn’t have these sentiments that didn’t turn out to be a stronger individual after they got bullied.

It is empowerment to fight back and beat up the bully.

When we give kids real world challenges to overcome, as in life when they become an adult, something clicks. They understand through the harsh lessons that this is how to overcome and grow in life.

The problems with this is that parents stopped caring, and gave overreaching authority to teachers to try and be surrogate parents. I saw it in my days in my child’s PTA, when parents don’t care, kids have no where to turn but to teachers, who have no time for the kids because there are so many. So it’s left to school counselors, administrators, and other authority figures to try and reign in all of this, and they’re overwhelmed.

All because parents dropped the ball. As with the teacher who finally stopped the beating, they can’t expect to be parents at school with no parents working for the kids at home.

But it starts with the parents teaching their kids about overcoming challenges on their own with help from those that love them.

I didn’t start learning to ride my bike until my parents made me get on a bike and start peddling. I hit a mailbox and was broken and bruised, but I learned to ride a bike and I was off to the races for most of my childhood.

I didn’t learn to fight back until I fought back, with my parents watching me do it, and empowered myself to take control of a situation with an assertive move.

The world needs bullies. But more importantly, the world needs men and women to teach people that being bullied is not an excuse to act the victim, but a reason for action against an oppressive force.

If a child can’t stand up for themselves as a kid, they won’t stand up for themselves as an adult.

The pain of being bullied is gone when you fight back. I don’t feel sorry for myself for being bullied. In fact, it was a necessary evolution in the man I’ve become today. And I fought back against the very forces that we are trying to destroy.

We don’t want to remove a challenge from someone’s life just because it’s hard to overcome. We have to stop trying to save everyone and instead, give them a reason to FIGHT in life.

I see many people who’ve lost limbs in war, who’ve had diseases or defects overcome incredible odds to do amazing things. And that’s what puts the human in humanity. Overcoming difficulties, punching them in the face, and not wrapping the world in bubble wrap to protect.

People all need these challenges, but more importantly, they need parents who show them these lessons and let them fail.

It’s the only way to get stronger.

The bullies stopped as soon as I fought back. And fought back I did. I wasn’t bullied again.

The magic recipe? A commitment to yourself and to not being a victim.

It’s the way you grow to become a person who doesn’t take any shit.

And I think we need a society with more of those types of people.

Adversity is a necessity in life. And nothing is more adverse than a bully who you need to punch in the mouth.

Overcome and adapt.

Relationship Lessons – Part 1: Save Yourself

This is part 1 of a three part series on lessons I’ve learned from my relationships.

Sometimes, the hardest thing for a man to do is walk away from something he knows he wants, but isn’t what he needs.

“It wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right. And it’s not her fault that it’s not right”, I sat in my car as it ran in the parking lot.

The wind was howling outside.

Everyone was gone from work.

It was just me, late afternoon sun shining over my car.

It was one of the most difficult decisions I’ve ever had to make, but I had to make it.

I’ve had to make this choice twice before. But this one was different. She had a ton of what I wanted in a girl.

When you are a man in a relationship, you are sometimes blind to what is good for you and what isn’t. Many a man has stayed in a situation where he didn’t belong, didn’t feel right, and this was just like that. How much time was I going to spend in a situation that didn’t feel good to me? At what point was I going to draw a line on what I needed in this?

And, as in a few of my past relationships, why was I giving more than I was getting?

I have had a tendency, especially if I find a girl I really like, of slipping into a role of driving, flying or meeting them in their area. And when I wasn’t? I was calling and texting like mad. Neediness.

I did it throughout 2019 and 2020, meeting girls on Twitter, flying to their area, having a fun weekend, then flying back hoping they would be persuaded to come live with me in Indy. In many of my past posts, I lament on this problem.

But this one was different. I thought she would come. And she didn’t.

I thought I had communicated it correctly. The ultimate goal for me, in my life, is that if I’m in a long distance relationship with a woman, is that she would naturally come here.

Indiana is my life. It’s where my kids are. It’s where my career, business, and family reside. There isn’t a compromise when it comes to this place. It’s my home.

But herein lies the problem: I was trying to be the exception to a rule that I knew wasn’t good.

Long distance relationships are not good, especially if they aren’t quickly turned into face to face relationships.

It cannot be stated enough that I was naive in thinking that I was different, I was special.

Most men do.

But I was kidding myself. Dammit I hate when I’m wrong, but I was warned, and I didn’t take it seriously.

When you meet someone long distance who you really like, you tend to gloss over the bigger deals because of the fact you like them.

I was trying to bring something that wasn’t going to happen and the lines should’ve been drawn sooner, but alas, my blindness to a girl I really clicked with precluded me from making those boundaries known early and often.

Hence why I was muttering in my car on that April day with frustration over letting it get this far.

Lesson – Boundaries Early and Often

I let it ride. I didn’t question. I constantly pushed off bringing it up.

But it was important.

You let it fester, you don’t push the issue, and it drags on.

I became, in essence, and emotional tampon for her. I was there whenever she needed me. I called at the same time every night. I was enamored with her from the start, but I didn’t reinforce my boundaries and tell her, over and over again, that this wasn’t going to work if we weren’t going to meet.

Until that April day, when I did.

Finally. I said something.

It was met with disbelief and frustration, as if wanting to meet in person was an affront to all that was decent.

I had finally, mercifully, put down a boundary that I had been playing footsie with for months.

Why not sooner? Because I was weak. I wanted it to work. I really liked her. I still did.

As a man, you let a woman you really like walk all over you, or worse, commit an abundance of your time to her, then you pull away, of course she’s going to be pissed. You were doing what she wanted, what she liked, and there was no risk for her.

I wasn’t consistent with my boundaries, and she had every right to be upset because I let it fester too long. But I had every right to ask her to come. If she truly wanted to be in my life, if she truly loved me like she said she did, it wouldn’t have been hard to come see me.

As a man, you MUST provide a strong frame and not bend or break on certain things in your life. I was not only bending, but certain boundaries were not-existent. All because I didn’t want to lose her. And I did anyway.

If someone is not willing to do what it takes to be in your life, then they really don’t want to be in you life now, do they?

The minute I put down boundaries was the minute the relationship ended. She couldn’t do what I needed her to do in the time I needed her to do it. You can’t be afraid to lose her. If she wants to be in your life, she’ll find a way to do it.

Lesson – Long Distance Generally is a Bad Idea

Rollo and the boys are right about long distance relationships. They are much like playing pretend.

Women can do long distance relationships better than men because they can get their emotional needs filled.

I don’t recommend long distance relationships for a man unless the women you really like is planning on visiting you SOON.

If you hit it off with a woman over the phone, long distance, as a man, especially an man who is established, she needs to come and see you.

Before, I had made it a bad habit to be talking to a girl for a month or so then be on a plane to see her. We’d have a great, sexual weekend, then reality would set in. She wasn’t moving for me. So I had to choose very carefully on who I was going to visit. And with my issues with my business and COVID, traveling wasn’t in the cards.

But here’s the thing. I could’ve visited her. But that would have led me to the same destination as all the other women I had gone to visit. I was making a stand this time that a requirement of this relationship, if it was to move forward, was that she had to visit.

This wasn’t on her, this was on me. And that’s okay. I have a specific requirement for relationships and if it didn’t work for her, it didn’t. I shouldn’t have prolonged this as long as I did.

Sometimes, bluntness is necessary. Sometimes, you have to put it out there to see if she’ll flinch. And I didn’t. I wasn’t honest with myself on what I wanted, I wasn’t honest with her, and I was afraid of losing her.

But what was this? Can something be classified as a relationship if you’ve never met face to face?

The answer? To women, it can. To men, it can’t.

But the bottom line. You can’t truly have a “relationship” that involves two people that haven’t met. There’s only so much of a connection you can make to a voice over the phone or a face over the internet. There’s only so much you can do because inevitably, intimacy must be created. Sex and intimacy are cornerstones of a relationship. And you can’t create that over a digital space.

It’s pretend. You are still not real to the other person nor are they to you unless there is physical touch. It’s not fair, but that’s the way it is.

Stop Being Afraid

What motivated me throughout this whole thing?

Fear.

Fear is a huge motivator for many things in our lives, and my fear of losing a woman I really liked was driving the lack of boundaries and the persistence of a long distance relationship.

We see men all the time give up their lives and move for a woman they love, only to be blindsided when all they’ve sacrificed translates to a whole mess of resent from her end. Then she finds another man who is solid and strong with his boundaries and his requirements and respects him more for those attributes.

I let fear dictate my actions. I was afraid of losing her. And that’s a risk as a man that you have to take. Your self respect is too important to let slide with a woman you really like. Hold your frame and let her know that you aren’t wavering.

I didn’t. And it cost me her, but more importantly, it cost me a bit of myself.

And while sad, I’m still glad I was able to enforce my boundaries at some point in this situation. I can only imagine how much longer it would’ve taken if I had just not said anything. How many more months or god forbid, years, would I have stayed on the line giving her what she needed while I got nothing of what I needed?

Know when to call a spade a spade. And know when to walk.

I’m sorry to her, but I’m glad I did what I did.

Incompatible Lives

“It’s time for you to be a father, not chase tail all over the country.”

The voice cracked on my cell phone.

Angrily pacing in the airport, waiting on my return flight, with the phone clutched tightly in my hand, I countered, “It’s about me at this point in my life, my focusing on myself is not wrong. You can’t pour from an empty cup.”

My daughter had been crying in the background when my mother spoke next.

“You’re a shitty father. Your kids need you and you’re flying around chasing pussy.”

I had never heard my mother speak this way to me, and it shocked me greatly.

“Has everyone lost their damn minds up there? Do I get time to myself to travel, date, and sleep with women? What business is it of yours what the hell I do when I don’t have my kids?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that your kids need you and you’re not here”, she said.

I had this happen before. It was clear as day to me.

Back in my marriage, my miserable dead end marriage, my ex used to call me at work with kids crying and guilt me into trying to come home, saying “they miss you”.

She would leverage my job against my family and she knew she was doing it. And here was my mother, another women in my life, trying to guilt and shame me into coming home because my daughter was a mess.

My daughter had been suffering from anxiety, a curse that I passed down to her, and she wasn’t coping very well. And as her screams and cries harangued in the background of my phone call that day, I wasn’t having another woman in my life try to tell me what I needed to do, leveraging my lifestyle with my kids.

I wasn’t hurting anyone. I was just going out on my time that I didn’t have my kids, traveling and meeting new people, and yes, I was having sex with women. So? “What the fuck?” was going through my head big time as I tried and failed several times to calm down. So there I was, in an airport in Pensacola, yelling at the phone.

Before this altercation, I had spent the better part of 2 years traveling all over the United States, by car and by plane, visiting places I’d never been, meeting people from Twitter and other walks of life, and yes, sleeping with women.

I had spent the majority of my 20’s working, not dating, and being terrible with women. My 30’s were spent with marriage and kids. And after I jettisoned my marriage after 10 years at 40 years old, it was time, albeit late, for me to sow my oats. I hadn’t had this kind of power with women in my life and I wanted to try it out for a spin. I was doing it within the rules of my divorce.

There were weekends I didn’t have my kids, so what harm was it for me to go and enjoy my life?

“I really thought I had thought this through” was running through my head.

Conundrum

Why wasn’t I able to pull this off? I thought I had done my homework. Why in the hell was I dealing with this?

I wanted to continue to travel. I wanted to continue to date all over the country. I wanted to continue having fun with my free time.

But what I didn’t understand? With my particular circumstances, with who I was, and with what I was doing, I couldn’t pull it off.

Some men can and do.

My kids were suffering from my absence, even if I didn’t believe it.

Yes, when I was there, I was there for my kids. But, I wasn’t really there. Between work, hotels, flights, rental cars, date nights, and all the other stuff that was piling up, I was missing from my kids lives. My mind wasn’t where it needed to be. With pussy, dinner plans, and travel getting the lion’s share of my attention, I was mailing it in with my kids.

They needed a strong, grounded father who had built a foundation of strength and stability. They were getting neither from me. And when the inevitable blowups occurred, they (and the women in their lives) needed a strong, masculine calm to break the tension, something that I could not provide at that moment.

And I knew it. Damn I was having fun doing this life. But in a round about way, even if my mom was wrong for calling me a shitty father, she was right about one thing. This wasn’t me, and I wasn’t there.

I couldn’t pull it off. Some other dude could. I couldn’t.

So, as I left the airport bound for home that day, I had to rethink my entire strategy and if it was even possible to have these incompatible lives.

My mother had said very hurtful things to me. Things that I knew weren’t true, but things she had never said to me before. I had to grasp why she felt this way.

The women in my life (mother, sister, and ex) were losing control of the situation because I never had it under control. I took off week after week for a new destination, all while leaving these women in charge of a situation that I figured they had control over. But the minute I left, the shit hit. Why?

Because I wasn’t there. Not necessarily there physically. But there. My presence. My infrastructure. My frame. My setup. My processes.

I had done none of it to help offset any issues that I was hoping wouldn’t come up. I knew about my daughter and her volatility. I still did nothing. I blindly let myself get away with it, and now the check had come due.

She wasn’t getting her dad. She was getting a dude mailing it in on the days he was around and passing it off to others on the days he wasn’t.

The one thing I had wanted in life was to be good with women, and here I was, better than I’d ever been, and I was being asked to give it up for my kids?

Yes. Yes I was.

My kids needed me.

Putting It To Bed

Did I have to give it up?

The thought and question raced through my mind as I flew back home.

The flights lasted longer than any other I’ve ever taken, because I was being asked to let go of something I like doing, but it was becoming detrimental to my home life.

I understood, finally, that I could travel and do some of the things I wanted to do, but just not to the scale of how I was doing them.

I had to get back home and plant firm ground to give my kids the foundation and frame they needed to thrive, even when I wasn’t around. So I did just that and established myself firmly.

And as if by magic, my kids improved dramatically.

As Zac Small says, “Presence is greater than presents.”

And it was proven after my flight landed that night.

A year later, I went back to my mom.

I went up to her, gave her a hug, and told her I forgave her for calling me a shitty father.

She apologized for calling me that as well.

She understood that I had improved as a father, by simply being there for my kids, as opposed to being there for unnamed women.

No amount of pussy is worth jeopardizing your family over.

The women in my life that were the most important to me were getting the full me, finally.

Daughters, mother, sister were getting me, but also, the real me. I wouldn’t put up with any shit, but I would respectfully acknowledge that I was lacking in certain areas as a father, and that was more important to me to correct than any other issue at that time.

And my job was to make sure that my kids got me first and often. I needed to be there for them, even if it meant sacrificing my short term goals, I had to focus on the long term of my kids.

My lives, for just me, were at the moment and for the foreseeable future, incompatible. I couldn’t be the single dad who picked up girls any more. I had to just be the dad. And be a good one, which I knew I was.

But I also had to come to the realization that a long term relationship is what I wanted.

I just had to come home.

Attractive Versus Hot

Photo Credit: Barnorama

She was gorgeous.

I saw her when I first walked into the room at the networking event. I went over to the bar and talked with the bartender for a moment, then ordered my usual Zombie Dust ale. I had been to many of these before, but this was the first time I’d seen this woman at this kind of event. She wore a light blue business suit, lace cami underneath, and a pearl necklace. Her eyes were as brown as mine were, and her dark brown hair was long and thick.

I sat at the bar watching her set up her booth, a sales table to give out free shit and promote her company. Her boss was flirting with another girl across the room while I looked into her eyes. She kept looking away. Her heels were on point. Fashion pumps with a fresh pedicure. I noticed everything about her. Her earrings, blue hoops matched her suit. She knew what she was doing.

So naturally, I went over to her. We started talking about her company, what she was doing at this networking event, and all the blah topics, but I eventually got her to open up and with a few drinks, we were having a good time as the networking event ended.

What was funny throughout all of this, is the mask was slipping a bit on her. She was obviously a drinker, party girl, but it was amazing how little it took for her to let her hair down and get out of her “business” mindset that made her nervous and unsure about herself.

Liquid courage does it every time.

Sure, she said she had a boyfriend, but she wasn’t acting like it. Touching my leg, whispering in my ear, other things that stated that she was unattached for the right guy.

There were other women there, but they weren’t as “hot” as she was. They didn’t command the room like she did. They were more homely, more reserved, less obnoxious, but they weren’t as hot as she was.

Men let women get away with a ton of shit when they’re hot.

This was the first 9 I had hit on, flirted with. My new found confidence, improved physique, and improving social skills were winning the day. This was what I had prepared for. This was the hotness I wanted in my life.

What I didn’t know at that time…..was that she was a 9, but she was also a damn handful.

I was just stoked to have pulled a hot girl. For months before, as I was working on my game and my approaches, I would go up to hot girls and be smacked down like a weak jumper in the paint. But, all of the sudden, the work was paying off, and I felt as if this was the big time that I was finally going to get some of that top-notch pussy that all the guys talk about.

Other women would look, try to get my attention, but I didn’t care. I had the hottest girl in the room flirting and touching me. Time to take this party on home and enjoy the spoils.

And enjoy I did. I’m sure we did things that her boyfriend didn’t get to do with her.

It was everything I had ever expected and more…..until I woke up the next morning.

Hot But Not Attractive

As I was learning, there was a difference in her attitude when she was not “in character” trolling for dudes in the dregs of the networking circuit. She would proudly claim “boyfriend” if her suitors were not properly attractive enough for her to deem worthy.

And this was just the tip of the iceberg. She was demanding. She had been used to men doing what she wanted because she was hot. When she came across a guy who didn’t, she immediately began the shit testing in earnest. And as I was finding out, she wasn’t a very deep person, meaning she kept her eyes on her phone one minute, and the mirror the next. She had tons of admirers….

As we started dating, I knew it wasn’t going to last very long. She wasn’t interested in anything but the attention she got from the guys she wanted. It was all about her, so it stood to reason that our little escapades weren’t going to last long at all.

Look, the sex was great. Her body and face would make me hard in a heartbeat, and I’d spend quite a few hours pounding away at her. But after the release, my post nut clarity (h/t to Donovan Sharpe for that little nugget) told me this girl was trouble.

Her liberal, “empowered”, independent woman mindset was getting older by the minute.

She belched like a trucker, she was a fucking slob, she was jealous of other girls who I spoke with, all while chatting away with other guys (of which I was slowly not giving a shit). I was under the impression of the many guys in PUA who had told me, “Dude, no matter how hot she is, some dude, somewhere, is tired of her shit.”

She would constantly try to start shit, even when we were out together at dinner. She would shit test incessantly just to try to get a rise out of me. Her self-esteem hinged on being able to challenge me at every opportunity, and it was getting tiresome.

The final straw came when one night, she decided to start talking shit to me when I was at a dinner event with some friends. I wasn’t going to stand for this anymore. So as she started to escalate, I left. And I never looked back to her.

I felt like I had won a prize at first, but then I felt as if the prize wasn’t as pristine and great as it had led me to believe.

She was high maintenance, an attention whore, a slob, and a deeply flawed human being.

But at least she was hot, right?

She would constantly challenge me in front of people, hoping I would erupt and fight back. Constant shit testing became a wear on my nerves.

But at least she was hot, right?

The sex was great. She was extremely good-looking. And I forgave many things she did because her ass looked good in a dress and she wore the heels I liked. But she was always on her phone, talking to who knows, planning her next dude, and this temporary fun time proved the point of the manosphere that “she’s not yours, it’s just your turn” was real as fuck.

But at least she was hot, right?

As I grew older, wiser, and dated more, I found out some things about women that I needed to find out. As soon as the leash of a dead marriage was off of me, I started to go all out in search of the hot women, because I was told they would make me happy. Having hot sex with a hot girl was what life was about. And in some way, yes, I’m glad I experienced it with her, but in many other, mounting cases, there was a reason she was single with a boyfriend for convenience.

Attractive But Not Hot

So after repeating this approach with hot women, and understanding that there were issues with the women I was dating, I started to up my own qualifications. No longer was it just about being a hot woman, it was about more than that. I started to look deeper into the women I was hitting on.

The thrill of banging a hot woman was getting old now. I understand that there are many men who would’ve killed to be in these positions and that I was looking a gift horse in the mouth if I wasn’t going to use my newfound powers to plow different girls, but I just didn’t see the benefit, especially if my mental stability was at stake.

So I pulled back. I regrouped and focused on what I really wanted in a woman that wasn’t being proudly displayed in public.

I started to talk to women and hit on them if I truly was attracted to them. The women I walked by so many times before at the networking events, at the restaurants, at the bars, that weren’t as hot, but were still good looking, were the ones I would talk to.

Many of them were non-starters, but more than enough of them were better and less work than the 8’s and 9’s I had struggled with.

And I was getting better with all women, but I was also raising my personal standards with women. I wasn’t going to just sleep with a woman for the hell of it, because while it was fun, the price of getting my dick wet wasn’t worth the mental anguish I was getting by dating these girls.

I was looking for a “Ride or Die”, a woman who would come into my world and be willing to be a part of it. It was her call. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t say I’d take a few hotness points less for a woman who would support me and be my “Ride or Die.”

As the old adage goes, “I’d rather date a 6 or 7 than put up with an 8 or a 9.”

There’s something to be said about a woman who has her shit together and is attractive in other ways besides looks. I’ve seen women who were a 5 or 6 who were more feminine, softer, and more attractive than the hottest 8 or 9. That’s because attitude either adds or subtracts from a woman. The hottest girl can be the most unattractive asshole if she opens her mouth. Hotter girls are more entitled, as they’ve had men waiting on them hand and foot for much of their lives.

As I’ve always said, the most unattractive hot girl is one that knows it.

Humility and being humble are extremely attractive in women.

Look, I’m not saying find the ugliest, fattest chick you can get because she might be attracted to you. You’re allowed to have standards. But be aware of the hot girls and the baggage they bring with their looks.

As a guy, it’s important for you to sow your oats. And yes, getting experience with hot women is what every guy wants. But be aware that it’s not everything.

Get your dick wet with a hottie. And if you’re lucky enough to find a hot girl that is actually humble and has it all together, hold on to her like grim death.

There are unicorns out there, they just need to be attracted by a beast of a man.

Exes

I have never gotten back with an ex.

I can personally attest to the difficulty of this philosophy, as many men get back together with a person they swore they wouldn’t.

I’ve been lucky, however, in that my blue pill beta years featured many exes who would not take me back, even after I tried to get them back.

The pull of an ex is great. Especially if you are a man who needs to have someone in your life and you don’t have many options.

Men don’t have the selection women do. Especially blue-pilled men who cling to any relationship (or any woman who says yes to them sexually) and they lose her because of their clinginess.

I had a penchant for desperation. So after my 20’s being a hopeless romantic blue piller, I got married. After my divorce, I went back to my desperate neediness with women I dated.

After I got divorced, I really hadn’t learned anything. I still wasn’t good with women, because I had only had sex with one. When women started to come into my life with more regularity as my separation was occurring, naturally, I started to get into relationships (even though I only really count 4) of months with damaged women because I, myself, was damaged goods.

So the relationships I was having were trash, but as a weak minded man, I assumed this is how relationships work.

Many men don’t understand how to be in a healthy relationship because they’ve never had one. With me, my dysfunctional marriage where I didn’t even know who the hell I was turned into relationships with damaged broads where I had the same damn problem.

But the assumption was that these relationships were good because there was a living, breathing woman who could stand me for 5 minutes was my qualification, and it was a horrible one.

So as the damaged women piled up, the attraction to the most damaged, most crazy, most problematic would put me into short, 3-5 month relationships that would almost always end in disaster.

Either I was too needy, saying “I love you” within weeks of meeting, introducing my kids in rapid fashion, doing all the things that blue pilled chumps do to rush in with the first woman who touched his penis.

I WAS THAT GUY.

And as the women broke up with me, I would be sick with missing them. I would blow up their phones with messages, text them incessantly, mope around and feel like the last thing was the real thing, as that girl was the only one who said yes to my advances. It’s like I lucked into these relationships, not thinking about why, and then as they ended (I can now see why, I couldn’t back then) I would try to grab onto these dysfunctional shit shows hoping to get back to that life I had when we had first dated.

But my issue was two fold:

a) I was attracted to shitty women

b) I was not in a good place myself

So, yearning for these relationships, as bad as they were, was my lot in life after my divorce.

For 3 years I limped from one relationship to the next, feeling glad another woman said yes while becoming too needy, clingy, and love-struck within minutes of hitting it off. And as the predictable end of the relationship was occurring, I would fight it with the “love yous” and “need yous”, not because of any other reason but I was a lonely chump who thought this was his last chance at love.

The Ex – Issues With Getting Her Back

Men these days, an overwhelming amount of them, act this way with women. We commit to emotion far too quickly, our beggary becomes absolutely detestable. But it’s only because we don’t get pussy at a regular rate. When we treat pussy as scarce, we do things to try to keep it in our lives, and that’s the major issue with men who just can’t let go.

Regardless if they initiate the breakup or not (most of the time, the woman does it), men can’t let go of a woman who treated them like shit, because at least she spread her legs for him. She could absolutely emasculate him, humiliate him in front of his friends, even cheat on him, and he’ll let it slide because he “loves” her. It’s a similar trope to a woman who stays in an abusive relationship.

A man who has zero self esteem or self worth can’t begin to be in a healthy relationship, so they stumble from damaged woman to damaged woman, with no hope of seeing a healthy chick in this parade of crazies.

This was me. After my marriage, in an empty house, I would be the picture of the guy who attracted all the damaged broads. Nearly all of them had more issues than Sports Illustrated, but it was simply because I was getting regular pussy from irregular girls that kept me going. And then they left after I became over attached. And then, instead of doing what I should have done (more on that below), I decided to over text, over call, even “stalk” women to the point I would be a mess, getting upset and angry because they wouldn’t give me another chance.

So I drifted from a bad relationship to one night stand to a bad relationship, with the same results. Get attached, get dumped, get depressed, get back up, then get back into another shitty situation. And in between, I was a sobbing moron who decided to send just one more text, one more call, and that would make it better.

Many men don’t evolve and fall back into the same pattern, and even worse, they take back an ex. Imagine after all my pining, the woman I was dating took me back. She could then know she had control over my life. This is where guys get into major amounts of trouble. They are convinced they need their woman and will do anything simping to do it. And they get her back. And they regret it for the rest of their lives because their relationship with that girl was shit, but the pussy was good (even if it wasn’t), and most times, it isn’t worth the sacrifices men make to “get her back”.

Imagine surrendering yourself to someone who doesn’t give a fuck about you. Would you put yourself in that position? Many men do when they reach out to me and ask, “How can I get her back?”

It never pays to get back with an ex.

The Ex – What You Should Do

There’s a reason I’ve never gotten back with an ex.

And a reason you shouldn’t either.

When it doesn’t work, it doesn’t.

You can will your way to a good relationship with someone if there’s major issues with yourself. It never fails. We’ve been told as a society that another person is designed to “complete” you. And this line of thinking has destroyed many a relationship.

But men will bolt back to an unhealthy relationship because it’s all they think they can get, all they think they have, and when they lose it, it’s the only thing on their minds.

That’s why the most important thing you can do with an ex is NO CONTACT.

Bury the past or it will bury you.

You, as a man, have to have the self respect to accept the fact that you don’t need to get back with an ex, especially someone who was damaging to themselves and to you. I would say this to men who were the same way. Work on yourself before you go to date.

Be honest with who the hell you are, and be accepting in the fact that there are relationships that won’t work out. Those relationships are meant for you to learn from, not to try and salvage.

But you’ll keep going back to the battery, getting shocked so hard but saying to yourself, “It’s not that bad, at least I’m not alone.”

Being so terrified to be alone, to leave a person who is fucking horrible for you, someone who doesn’t give a flying fuck about you or your life when you break up. But yet, YOU WANT THEM BACK.

You cry and pine for someone, anyone, who actually is terrible for you and what you are doing.

So, go dark. Do not contact your ex. Don’t even try it. It just isn’t going to be good for you to go back to that. There’s a reason it didn’t work.

I tell men to give their ex static. A woman who knows she’s got your goat when it comes to contact will continue to twist the dagger in to you if you let her, so don’t let her. Block her number, remove her from all social media contacts, and push away from even the faintest chance that she can contact you. The biggest fail for guys and their exes is they let them back in, giving them leeway they wouldn’t give another woman they don’t know, because she’s had sex with him.

Guys will allow women to do some of the worst shit to them all in worship of the pussy. Guys don’t miss the girl, they miss the regular sex. If she’s a psycho, they’ll miss the regular awesome sex. But slashed tires, death threats and property damage from their exes don’t see to get through to the little head.

Treat your ex like you treat anything else bad that has happened to you. Shocked yourself doing electrical work? Don’t do that again. Got into a car accident because you weren’t paying attention? Should probably remember not to do that.

An ex is a lesson. A lesson on what not to do. Too often as men, we are bothered by making a mistake and admitting we made it. So we go back against our better judgement. Please stop. Don’t. She’s not worth the pain and misery you’ll be subjecting yourself to by turning to the past that hurt you.

There’s a reason I’ve never gone back to an ex.

And that should be your reason too.

Uncharted

The lighthouse at Sanibel Island, Florida

When I first started this blog in September of 2018, it was going to be a basic blog on game, approaches, and my progress with conquering one of the biggest challenges of my life, that of being able to be good with women.

It was just a blog.

I was coming off another unsuccessful relationship with a liberal woman, getting into another doomed-to-fail relationship with another liberal woman, and was getting myself red-pilled after enduring two years of post-divorce discovery of who the fuck I was.

I had, two years earlier, divorced my wife of 10 years after enduring a marriage rife with problems. I didn’t know my ass from a hole in the ground, so I grabbed on to whatever I could during that time, including many women who were toxic. I was working hard at my company, drinking with my friends, getting and staying fat, and had zero direction while I floated from relationship to relationship, date to date, day to day, just waiting for something to happen.

This was my life, and I didn’t see a way out except to play by the rules.

But, as we know, rules were meant to be broken. Part of the foundation of myself built on my divorce was the fact that my decision to divorce was made by ME, by only me, and my choice to not be miserable anymore. But it was a journey, as I was starting, that I didn’t have a solid destination. And that’s some scary shit for a man going on 40 who’s basically restarting his life. Add in running my own business, raising two children, and trying to become a patriarch of my family all while not knowing who the hell I was, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster. It’s no wonder many men who divorce have disastrous consequences follow them as they don’t know the hows, whats, or whys on what the hell they need to do to rebuild their lives, so they just grab on to whatever floats by, and it’s usually a water moccasin ready to bite them in the ass.

So as I was dating, I blogged as the Red Pill Dad, dishing my experiences with game, my approaches, my style, and my numbers. They weren’t great, but I figured anything I could do to keep my spirits high as I moved from girl to girl, trying to get better talking to them, would be quality content. So I blogged about it. I blogged about my red pill journey, my failures in relationships, my relationship with my ex-wife, and kept reading, studying, and writing as best I could to keep my mind off of this life I was trying to rebuild.

But then, in Early 2019, I was convinced that the rebuild WAS my life.

The Journey Began

It became more than game. It became a man who was on a journey to find himself, his purpose, his convictions. He spent his life being pulled in different directions by special interests and women who benefited from his work. As I placed myself back firmly in control of my life, I was seeing that the red pill was more than just a piece for getting laid. It was an integral part of taking my life back. Meeting women took a back seat to my voyage to find myself and take my life back, so it was getting more and more about the moral, financial, and personal dilemmas that men face after divorce that was taking up my writing time.

I was working out, on pace to lose 80+ pounds and regain my health. I was raising two children as a single dad. I was running my own business. I was struggling to take my life back from those who deemed it theirs. And it was pissing all of them off. For years I had thought I was wrong to alienate my friends and family from my inner circle because they would always shame me for daring to make my own decisions. So I cut those fuckers loose.

I was evolving.

Even friends online were telling me that my “Red Pill Dad” moniker was not really embracing my writing evolution. So, after a talk with a friend, I changed to “A Father’s Journey”. It was about telling men my story so they could see what I was doing. It was about showing men that life crises can be overcome with a strong back and the willingness to fight every day for who you are.

So I shifted my focus. And it was an amazing journey. I started writing about the aspects of my life that were affected when I started to take control of my life again. Parenthood as a single father, dating, and sex as a single father, life as a business owner, and other subjects began to dominate my feed. I was losing weight, taking back control of my life, all while tweeting and writing about it. My world was changing, and I had to chronicle it. My goal was to show men that regardless of obstacles in their way, their journey continued with them at the helm of it. It was a no-excuse time to take control of their lives. So I wrote and blogged about what they could do, what experiences I had, all while showing them that the fear they felt was certainly palpable, but also, faced and overcome.

As I would later find out in my re-brand, I was becoming a beacon to men out there struggling to take back their lives from the tide of an unfair family law system, a feminist society hell-bent on destroying masculinity, and the proof that there is an amazing life after divorce. Second chances are not given often, and men who fail to take these chances to improve their lot in life physically, mentally, and spiritually are doomed to be nothing more than a casket with onlookers lamenting the “could haves” he missed out on.

Not me. Not in this lifetime, and not on my watch.

So I opened my DM’s and I opened my life.

The off limits portions of the Red Pill Dad were now open for business.

My life was theirs to see. I knew it needed to happen. I knew they needed to see what I was going through, what I was learning, how I was growing and failing, for them to see what they could do to improve their lives.

They needed to not only learn to be alone, but THRIVE at it.

They needed to accept their circumstances, but also create better ones.

They needed to understand the fight for their lives doesn’t stop when the sun goes down and they go to sleep.

They needed to always be making moves to free themselves from a world that only wants them for their work.

For all of their lives up until that point, it wasn’t about them. It was time to make it about them.

My taking back control of my life is what my journey was up until that point. It was about writing to let men know that they actually have a choice on what they can do in their lives. They can learn and improve from their mistakes, but they have to make them first.

And maybe, just maybe, the young men reading my blog can avoid what I did. Maybe they can take the steps needed to take back control. My writings, videos, and shows would be a guide. That was my goal, and it still is to this day.

But the journey has changed. And I’m in very new territory. And I’m embracing the new challenges ahead.

Uncharted Father

As many of you know, I’m writing a book that will detail my life before my marriage ended into the divorce proceedings and eventually to the other side.

As I’ve been writing the book, I’ve been trying with increasing difficulty to come up with a name for my untitled book.

Then in January of 2020, I hit on something.

Every year, I go on a vacation by myself to Southwest Florida, specifically Fort Myers, and one of my favorite places on earth is Sanibel Island, home of a famous lighthouse. I go to that beach every year, and my family for over three decades has been living in the area as a second home. So on a particular day at the beach, I walked by the lighthouse and had an epiphany.

My purpose has been to help men who were in my situation, or any situation for that matter, to be better and overcome the slings and arrows of life’s folly. My purpose has been to be a guide to those men who would look out and see darkness, only to be greeted by a faint light of my help. They could choose to follow it or not, but the light is always there telling them of the impending rocks on the shore.

But it also represents the unknown.

What life there is still left to live is going to be unpredictable, and you as a man must plan accordingly. Being constantly prepared for all that life has to offer, both good, bad, and ugly, is a man’s first job. He has to be a beacon, a watch for anything that comes his way to do him harm or pleasure, and he must adjust to embrace this eventuality.

There will be things that happen that you can’t prepare for but must, there will be places you go that you’ll have no clue how to navigate, and there will be times you have to remember in order to move forward in the present and future. In any case, as a man, you must be prepared.

So, on that January day, I decided that my journey had indeed changed and I was navigating uncharted waters.

In every aspect of my life, I was an “Uncharted Father”.

Everything I had done I had done with very little knowledge, only the action to make things a reality in my life, the time to try to help as many men as I could, and the willingness to make as many mistakes as I could in that pursuit.

Men needed to see my struggles in this new life, and they had, but now, they needed to see my foray into new avenues, relationships, and opportunities. My actions and thoughts during this time as well as my past would be a beacon for men looking to make their lives better.

I’m not going to let these men down.

I’ve seen too many men take their own lives, get divorce raped, fall back into damning habits, and destroy their lives because they didn’t know where to turn, didn’t have a tribe that had their back, nor did they have a place they could look for support and accountability.

So I ran with it. And my symbol (I’m a big believer in symbolism) is the very lighthouse I’ve spent much of my life admiring. It’s a symbol of my goals as a man to continue to shine brightly to my kids, my girlfriend, my family, my friends, my business, and all the other things in life that need my light to survive and thrive. I want to be an inspiration to men everywhere of what they can do to navigate crises in their lives and how to come out on the other side better, stronger, and more determined.

My journey has changed. It’s a whole new ballgame. And it’s time for myself and other men like me to “Blaze Our Own Trail.”

I am The Uncharted Father.

Death Bed Conversions

Photo Credit: stanleyjwhite.blogspot.com

“They always come back.”

That was the words of my father when talking about women. And business, and anything really.

As men are trying to re-make themselves and unplug from a world that absolutely abhors them, using them only for labor and enforcement, we see them blazing trails into new areas, thumbing their nose at all the haters, fighting everyday to claim their piece and peace of the world.

The phenomena of what I call “deathbed conversions”, that of women who love you only when you’ve changed for the better, is relatively new. It happened to me, and it continues to happen to men when they divorce or breakup with a woman.

Many women, as society has taught them, are sacrosanct. They are the true believers, the line of purity when it comes to virtue, goodness, and ideals. Toxic masculinity has no place in our femcentric society. And in relationships, women are taught that they are correct, the gold standard, and that the men are the ones who need to step up to the plate to right their wrongs.

When you are told by society that you aren’t wrong, that you are the goal, that you are the “Queen”, that you are empowered, and that you represent the feminine, that even your wrongs can be forgiven and celebrated, that anyone who criticizes you for whatever you’ve done is a misogynist, a hater, to be shunned and destroyed as you get yours.

So when marriages go south, many women’s first instinct is to put blame upon the man she married, as if her choice of that man has no consequence, as if her actions in the said marriage are infallible, as if she looks at herself constantly and says, “this problem is not me, it’s him, because I’m the woman.”

So she tells him to go to therapy, tells him to get the help to make the marriage that he’s destroyed right again, because, if she’s at fault, it flies in the face of everything that society tells us about women in relationships. They can’t be wrong, so it MUST be him!

But then he gets better. He starts to take back his life. And she does one of two things, she either criticizes him and makes him go to a DIFFERENT therapist that has her goals in mind, or she begins to fall in love with the man she really wanted, without doing any work on herself, because, why would she when she is right?

Shifting the Goalposts

Eight years into my marriage, my ex told me to go to therapy. I was having anger issues at work and I needed to get those sorted out. Through 2 years of therapy, I slowly found out that my problems weren’t my job, it was my marriage as well as the dominant women in my life, including my ex (wife at the time).

But the real benefit of the therapy was my red pilling and unplugging. I saw an instant increase in the quality of my life. My anger went down precipitously. My work was better. But my home life, the thing I was convinced was fine, was getting worse. And when my then-wife was told in 2015 that I wanted to leave the marriage, she recommended joint therapy in concert with the therapy I was doing. (Notice the absence of her needing therapy.)

I requested that she go to therapy by herself as well, even have her go to my therapist. She went once and was convinced she was “Fine”. And with each passing session, I was getting better and better.

But slowly, she started to become convinced that my therapist wasn’t helping me (even though he was). Her problem wasn’t that he wasn’t helping HER make me into someone she wanted.

Many women in divorce or separation situations request the men to have therapy, while they themselves tend to not seek therapy unless it’s joint. The man then goes to therapy and improves in his life. Then she sees him improving and isn’t happy he’s not improving the way SHE needs. She thinks she’s not the problem, so she should be part of finding the solution for him.

This is when women who go to joint counseling try to use the therapist to gang up on the man. And men are overmatched and many times bullied into agreeing to things they don’t want.

When I was in therapy with my ex, I let her choose the therapist (a mistake men should not make). You need to have input on who you are going to work on your marriage with. She distinctly wanted a therapist to bully me into accepting the fact that the entire failure of the marriage was MY fault. So, with all the will power I could muster, I went in completely expecting to be ganged up on in the therapy sessions. And for a couple, I was. The first therapy session, he asked us both, on a scale of 1-10, how dedicated to saving the marriage we were. She said 10. I said 0.

So her line of attack began with trying to turn the failure of marriage to me. As I stood my ground, dodging and parrying her attacks on everything from my sexual prowess to my career choice to my family dysfunction, the therapist started to see who the problem was.

So as we progressed through therapy, my ex continued (and still does to this day) to say and believe that her role in the marriage was sound. And as our therapist turned to her more and more to question her roles, she became defensive and even tried to suggest we get another therapist, one who could see her side much better. She was trying to rig a game that was already rigged but she wasn’t worth a shit at playing.

So she tried to move the goalposts. I had done everything she had requested and she still wasn’t satisfied with the outcomes. And after I saw her blatantly trying to rig the therapy, I cut off everything. You can’t negotiate with someone who isn’t prepared to work in good faith to hold up their end of the bargain.

And for every man like me that stood his ground, there are hundreds that don’t. They get bullied back into marriage by guilt and shame, condemning them to always thinking they aren’t to have a say, nor are their concerns about their wives not getting help even warranted.

And many women (especially BPD) fly off the deep end when their delusions suffer from continuing letdowns when they can’t find accessories for their control issues over their husbands. And then, we start to see anger and bile coming from their mouths, until they see the man their husband is becoming as he works on himself.

As they writhe on the bed of divorce, hatred, and disdain for her husband and all who won’t work to bring him back to his senses, she suddenly notices a man whom she sees as high value, a man who has been going to therapy, the gym, and is working on himself for his post divorce world.

And as the light shines over her, she suddenly starts to want him again.

And Then She Wanted Him….

My ex wanted to save the marriage. Not me. She didn’t think she did anything wrong. But when she saw the man I was becoming, she realized that she had made a mistake. But she still wasn’t willing to fix herself, nor was she going to let me ever forget that the divorce was my fault.

But as I became more of the man I wanted to be, after all the bile and venom she had thrown my way, she started to want the man I was becoming. The problem here, as many men have found out, is that she refuses to change herself. She doesn’t believe she’s the problem, so when he becomes a masculine man with purpose, leadership, and goals, he understands that she can’t just come waltzing back into his life.

And damn, will she ever try. When my ex started seeing the man I was becoming, she instantly turned over into “nice woman” and tried to sneak back into our relationship, saying we should reconcile. This after weeks of cursing me out, calling me names, insulting my sexual prowess, family, etc., she suddenly became attracted to me again, trying to meet with me, asking to spend more time with me, and even bringing dinner over to my house when I had the kids.

As a man, you’re going “WTF?” But this conversion, as I call it, happens with exes in marriage or just dating. They either break up or get broken, then as you improve your lot in life, becoming a better man, she swoops back in thinking you’re now deserving of her.

The fact that she can be so brazen as to try to enter your life isn’t the problem. It’s the fact that men actually LET HER BACK IN. And if you let her back in, the same shit ensues from before. Why? Because she still refuses to fix what was hers.

With her reinforced belief from societal norms that she can’t be the problem, men are left with little choice but to leave her and move on with his life. And she’s left to writhe in agony, cursing a man for making his life choices without her, and forever stuck in the morass of why she can’t be wrong, with this same toxic attitude affecting her in her future relationships.

This is the basis of feminism’s toxic hold on women. After they clamor for the man they now want and don’t get, they drop out and are completely convinced that they aren’t the problem in anything. And this is why you see many feminists and liberal women single into their middle age years.

The very potent and poisonous pill that women take is that they would rather be right and alone then admit fault and work on themselves. The absolute hatred of doing anything for the pleasure or compliment of a man overwhelms the chance to be happy.

So they sit and die on their beds…but it’s a slow, tortuous death.

Women and men should want to improve themselves. Working on yourself and humility to see that you need improvement are keystones of a healthy life. But many women are convinced by women that raised them, feminists that preach to them, and a society that speaks to them, that they ultimately aren’t the problem, it’s the patriarchy keeping you down. It’s the ingrained misogyny that men have cultivated to keep the slay kweens down.

This is why these “deathbed conversions” happen. Women who want to control a man until he decides to not be controlled anymore. And an uncontrolled man is what makes her panties soaked. She really is all over the place, simply because she has never been told that she needs to work on herself, nor was she humbled enough to take responsibility for her actions and beliefs.

Cake and eat it too, rinse and repeat.

So be aware of these games women play. And understand that you can choose to walk away, choosing to opt out of the attention Olympics and the emotional games that women inevitably play during divorce proceedings.

Keep your head about you and allow the deathbed conversion to expire and pass. She’s not going to be a part of your life anymore, so treat her portrayal as just that, an act meant to distract you from the life you want.

Yes, there can be reconciliation, but only if both parties agree and understand that a marriage takes TWO and they both should be humbled to make real life changes to save the marriage. The problem is pride gets in the way for many people, dooming any chance for a recovery.

And as men we can identify and avoid unhealthy women in the first place, not marrying them in the hopes they’ll change, and vice versa with women.

She can’t be saved if she refuses to save herself.

Journeys

“Why do you even want to go anywhere by yourself?” A voice crackled over the phone.

“I love taking vacations by myself. It’s incredible. Why don’t you try it sometime?” I responded.

“It just sounds boring. What are you gonna do?”

“Anything and everything I want”, I replied.

“I just don’t get it.”

My friends and family, for about two years now, have been wondering why, every January, I decide to go on vacation by myself.

They wonder why for the past 24 months, I’ve taken my vacations from my life as a single dad and a business owner, to travel all over the USA by myself, meeting great people and experiencing life first hand with my own eyes.

They wonder, many times out loud, what possible good could come from a man traveling by himself to witness the world, the people, and the places that make the inhabitants of said destinations proud to call them home.

As I hung up the phone, I had to sit back and understand that some people will just not get it.

Some people will never want to go on a trip by themselves, let alone to new places.

Some folks can’t even be in a room alone for a few minutes, let alone be on a plane, renting a car or getting an Uber or Lyft, and just driving to a place they’ve never been.

It terrifies people to be around all things new. They cling to their comfort zones with such ferocity that there’s no chance they would ever leave that bubble, always clinging to their worlds, petrified to leave the sanctity of a miserable, mundane life just to say they’re safe and sound.

Comfort zones, while seemingly helpful, can turn anyone into a scared little child. We yearn for the world we can control, with no surprises, and robotic consistency. Because it’s safe. But it isn’t.

And after my divorce, it’s exactly the reason why I decided to leave the comfort zone for the wonders of the world beyond, regardless of what they might be.

How It Started

Comfort zones for me, when I was younger, were a steady diet. I had to have them and I seldom left them. And when I did leave them, I was petrified to do so, resulting in prolonged periods where I would just stay in the only place I knew, to try and make it another comfort zone.

No where was this more apparent than when I went to college. It was the first time I was in a new place, where I didn’t know anyone, and I was terrified to talk to anyone. For the entire first semester of my freshman year, I stayed in my dorm room with a shitty roommate, who afterwards left because we couldn’t get along.

So for the rest of the first semester, I left my dorm room for class. That was it. I didn’t even eat in the cafeteria because I was so terrified of the world. I would warm up stuff in my microwave in my room and eat small meals.

I lost a ton of weight because I wasn’t eating. I knew something was wrong with me. It was a miserable existence, with trips home on a shuttle to my family wondering if I had major psychological issues to overcome.

The simple yet complicated point was that I was so ensconced in my comfort zone, I would do anything to keep it. To the hardest line I could. Limited contact with anyone. Head down, eyes averted, no small talk.

It wasn’t the best time.

I eventually got out of my shell in college with the help of a new roommate who was more social and helped me get out of my rut quite quickly. The guy was an alpha chad (literally named Chad) who would pull girls in and had a collection of undergarments that stretched the entire 150 feet of our dorm wing. I can’t say enough about what he did for me, allowing me to see the college life I had yearned for, but never had the courage to go out and get. And I really never did either. Most of my college life I seldom dated, kept a small group of friends, and regardless of how much I thought I was getting out in the world, still held to the comfort zone I knew and wanted no matter what. I graduated and got my own apartment, and my comfort zone came with me.

My apartment life consisted of going to work, hanging playing video games with my two best friends, and occasionally drinking with my college buddies.

Then, in 2003, I started to come out of my shell again. One of my friends got a new boat and I saw it as an opportunity to try something new. I had never really been on a speed boat before, and after he invited me for the first time, I decided to put myself on a new path towards slowly but surely getting out of my comfort zone.

So every time he invited me, I went. I didn’t care how much is pained me to go outside, I just knew that getting out was the way to go. And it was a great summer. The summer of 2003 gave me my first real taste of what life could be like outside of my comfort zone. I would meet girls (still was really shy and didn’t date), hang with new friends, and get plenty of exercise and vitamin D.

But it all ended after I met the woman that would become my ex-wife.

It wasn’t that she set me back, it’s just that finally, mercifully, I met a woman who wanted to be in the same room with me. Through eHarmony, I decided to use my new found confidence to try and land a mate, even though I admittedly had more work to do. But at 27, I wasn’t getting any younger and the constant barrage of my family wanting me to “settle down” was reason enough to try and find a woman.

And the woman I met was VERY introverted. So with her at my side, I went back to the comfort of the zone. Because it was where I was supposed to be. It kept coming back to me and saying, “you need to be in the zone, you like it there, and it makes you feel good.”

So I got to married life, raising a family, and we went on family trips. I had NEVER gone anywhere by myself, and I didn’t think I ever would. Why would I need to if I was happily married?

Then, things changed again.

How It Happened

In February of 2015, I had an epiphany. It was a paradigm shift of epic proportions as I decided to leave my marriage and wife of 10 years. Why did I do it? Because the comfort zone I loved so much became a noose that was strangling me. We weren’t happy in our marriage for a plethora of reasons, and we were kidding ourselves if it was going to get better.

For nearly a decade, the comfort zone of my marriage was just that. It was suffocating, not only because we didn’t do anything about it, but also because I was terrified of leaving the comfort zone again. The lifelong problem I had with living in a comfort zone was becoming too depressing to overcome. And I was taking my kids and my ex with me. I had to evacuate. I had to leave and realize that my life wasn’t getting any longer and living in misery wasn’t helping anyone involved in my life.

I had to make a decision. The comfort zone had to go. If I was going to truly look back at my life and be happy, I had to get out of a dysfunctional marriage to finally take charge of my life.

With the decision to leave, my life became chaotic. I became more depressed and suicidal. I didn’t realize how much work it would take to remove myself from a life I didn’t want, but still have aspects that I needed to provide for. I had to understand that getting out of my comfort zone involved changing the rules of the comfort zone by keeping one, but allowing myself to get in and out of it when I wanted to. My kids and ex needed stability from me. My ex needed a co-parent who was on the same page and providing what he needed to. And I wasn’t there.

I was still searching for the person I needed to be. A father’s journey began with realizing that there had to be a JOURNEY. Or several. So I booked flights in 2019 and 2020, gassed up my car and drove, and went to find the person I was.

How It’s Going

It took my first vacation alone, in 2019 to Los Angeles, CA. I went there because it was a place I know I would never visit again, but was a place I wanted to see. There were great people there that I met, enjoyed new places, and saw the world for the first time by myself.

I enjoyed the trip so much, I decided to book more. Yes, to meet women. And yes, to meet and talk to people I’d met online, and yes, to meet my Fraternity of Excellence brothers.

It was my middle finger to the comfort zone that had dogged me all my life. It was the “fuck you” to all of those people that told me my life wasn’t mine, it belonged to those I provided for. It was the stick of dynamite to the world that had protected me so much that it had taken away my zest for life. I was taking it back.

It was a hammer to the mirror that those that had laughed at my journeys. I was in it to spite them as well, and my trips became a symbol of my rebellion against those family and friends who ridiculed me for wanting to live the life I wanted.

But I went too far. I was traveling more and more and my kids and family life were suffering. My kids needed me and here I was smashing my comfort zone to bits. I didn’t care, until last year, after my last trip to AZ, I saw that my kids were suffering because I wasn’t there.

I finally realized, after all the times I’d had, that there had to be a balance. There has to be a comfort zone, for a solid foundation, but there has to be easy access out. It can’t be a prison, it has to be just another stop in your world, but one that provides consistency and stability for those that rely on you. But it also provides something else for me. It provides a launch pad to greater things, it provides a shelter for when I fail, it provides peace when I’m at war, and it provides needed pain for me to get up and get out. In short, my comfort zone these days isn’t a comfort zone, but a home base for which to go out and conquer the world. A man’s home is his castle.

What’s To Come

What new journeys have taught me? I need more of them. But I also need to share my love for these trips with those that rely on me. My kids will be accompanying me on many of these future trips, but I also have to hold a trip, by myself, in the highest importance.

I took my yearly Florida trip this year because I needed it. I needed the time alone to refresh and recharge. I needed a free week to do nothing and do everything. I ate where and when I wanted, I went to places I wanted to, I went to beaches, driving in my convertible, I talked to the locals, I shopped, I took naps, and I had no one telling me what I needed to do, what schedule I needed to keep, nor what time I needed to be somewhere.

This is what vacation truly should be. And I can’t recommend taking a vacation by yourself enough.

You need the time to connect with yourself. You need to challenge your comfort zones, you need to attack your mediocrity by experiencing new and different things. It’s why I’ll continue to go on trips by myself until I die.

But what’s most important, is that traveling has taught me that the world isn’t as bad as those who are terrified of it make it out to be. It’s incredibly freeing to be able to hop on a plane, go to someplace you’ve never been (or a place you know well but want to experience again) and live a life away from the life you know.

You owe it to yourself to not only get out of your comfort zone, but to make it your fortification to conquering your empire. This is your life and you want to make the most of it. My way of making the most of my life is to face the world with my chest out and chin up. I’m tired of being afraid.

The best line I can ever think of for this situation is from “The World Is Not Enough” where one of the characters says: “What’s the point of living if you can’t feel alive?”

Ask yourself what your point of living is? Is it to be safe, or is it to feel alive? Mine is to feel alive, and I’m never looking back.

Love Lies

“Experience breeds cynicism. That’s why many people don’t believe in love anymore.”

  • ME

Remember all those cool ass love songs from the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s? I used to listen to all of them. Every damn one was queued up on my favorite device. I’d pine for a woman and listen to Night Ranger or some other hair band and quote them word for word that love, true love, existed in some woman that I was intrigued with. I remember specifically laying in my dorm room in college listening to Van Halen’s “Why Can’t This Be Love” for my latest crush who I refused to talk to and I would sulk when she either did turn me down or I found out she had a boyfriend.

I’d imagine that having sex with such a woman would blow my mind, giving me some ridiculous high on top of the high of orgasm, and the afterglow of sex would be a session of cuddling followed by my thanking God or whoever else was listening that this woman fell into my lap.

This is the love story so many men are pining for. They wait, hope, and pray for a woman just like the above. She checks off everything important, but the most important part, that she has a vagina and she gives it to him, is the only thing that truly happens.

But as many of us in the manosphere have found out, the reality of love is much more difficult than the wide-eyed optimism of a beta male.

Optimism gives way to brutally painful truth when a man understands how many women are.

The man loves romantically, the woman loves pragmatically.

And he feels terrible when he finds this out. All the songs, all the movies, were lies to him.

But were they? Or were they just telling him what he longed to hear? That love is the answer to his life. That love is the reason he lives. That love for a woman is a critical part of his life, and if he doesn’t have it, he doesn’t have anything.

Yes, these are the things told to men willing to believe them.

Between The Two Genders

Love means different things to men and women. The word itself means much more to a woman than a man. When a woman says it, you know that there is deep meaning behind it.

Women don’t mess around when using the word “love” and you know it very quickly either for or against you if you make the bold assertion that as a man you “love” your woman.

Wanna see where you stand with a woman? Say you love her. She’ll let you know if a few moments when you see her face.

Just like with the words “honor”, “loyalty”, and “dedication”, as well as many other words, the meanings mean different things to men and women. Ask a man about honor, and he’ll tell you about the men’s lives he saved in war. Ask a woman about honor, and she’ll tell you that a man’s word is an honor to her, and he will honor her with his presence and dedication. Ask a woman about loyalty, she’ll speak in the context of a relationship, a man who doesn’t cheat on her. Ask a man? He’s talking about brotherhood, holding himself to a standard with his brothers or friends, supporting them when they need him.

The context by which both genders take these words are important, which is why, just like with love, both genders see it differently.

Men use the word too flippantly, and women take the word too seriously, but it’s how both are programmed to deal with it.

Never has there been a word that elicits such different reactions from men and women as the word “love”.

When I used it too often in my dating and my first marriage in my 20’s and 30’s, the word lost all meaning to the people that I used it to. I thought the word was needed in my everyday vernacular. I said it all the time, losing the meaning, very special meaning, to my then wife as well as those who I kept talking to using it as a punch line.

Women take the word “love” VERY SERIOUSLY. You don’t go around loving someone and saying that word unless you mean it, and if you do mean it, she’ll mean it back, or you’ll be on the road to Nopeville very quickly.

The L word lets you know where you stand very quickly, so saying it, similar to the Harry Potter “his name” nonsense, is akin to a “Leeroy Jenkins” event, when a conclusion happens very fast regardless of what outcome you want.

Love In The Sphere

What happened to all those love songs when I unplugged and took the red pill?

Trashed. Never to be listened to again. Because the love in those songs doesn’t exist.

The love in those songs is a love for a man who is blinded by the illusion that women will love them back that way, they don’t and they won’t.

The differences in the genders come to a head when in a relationship when a man is under the impression that the woman will love him the way all the songs, the movies, and the TV shows show.

Women, as I’ve learned very quickly through my dealings with them, take the word love very seriously, but in practice, can be cold blooded with their “love”. They can pull the attention they give to a man as quickly and as brutally as a cold dictator, leaving men reeling. Women are masters of emotion, working in it, and they can savage men, who aren’t good at dealing with emotions at all, and give them sometimes permanent issues to sift through.

Men who don’t know this are in for a rude awakening. Men who experience this have many paths, but the two they hit are utter bitterness and competent understanding. In short, knowing what you get with a woman is going to be key in understanding their views and actions on love.

What the pill and the manosphere teach men is something they should know when they get into the dating world, that love is a four letter word. And it’s one that need not be stated unless you absolutely need to say it.

The misconception is that the manosphere hates the word love. We don’t, however, recommend using it often, especially knowing how women and men react to the word. It’s that we stress the importance of the word, the blind usage of it can only lead to bad things, especially men putting their heart out there all the time to women only to be bashed or left after using it. And yes, I’ve been there in my usage of it. The last two times I said “I love you” to women, over two and three years ago, respectively, I was left quicker than you can say “matrimony”.

Which is why when it comes to love, the manosphere wants men to understand that with that word comes a responsibility to use it correctly and when the time comes to use it.

They want men to understand what women feel the meaning of it is without going off half-cocked as many men do when they utter the word.

What I’ve always said, and will always say to men, is to be extra careful. Matters of the heart are not for the weak.

It’s much too easy these days for a man to become enamored with a woman, only to have his heart broken by her, then to do something terrible to either himself or the woman. It’s why men must gain control of their emotions and be masters of their world before having a woman come into it.

Love is a dangerous thing for men, especially those who can’t control themselves on falling into it, from it, or a broken heart out of it, which is why the manosphere takes such precautions to not use the word as much as it’s being used.

We understand how quickly men can fall. We understand how men can take a word like this and make it harmful.

We don’t hate love. We hate the emotions it conjures up in the ill-prepared. We hate what men who’ve been hurt by it can do with it when they hear it. We hate what men do when they get their hearts broken.

We must understand that love exists, but in different states in each gender. And the sooner men and women understand this about each other, the sooner we will see acknowledgement of love being more than a buzz word, but a word that has real meaning, real depth, and of course, real consequence.

I’ve learned through these last years of being unplugged to hold my tongue when stating I “love” someone. It’s a very big word and a very real feeling. And many men think they feel it, but don’t. And then they get hit and dragged.

So make sure, before you utter this word, that you understand the implications of using it. That you understand what she’s going to hear when you say it, and understand that she feels the same way.

But also understand that when you hear it and when she hears it, it means different things.

And with that understanding, love can grow between you both in a better, more clear direction.