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.


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.


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.


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.


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:

“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.


“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.

Mid-Life Prices

“Sense of security
Holding blunt instrument
Midlife crisis
I’m a perfectionist
And perfect is a skinned knee”

  • Faith No More – “Midlife Crisis”

I awoke.

I didn’t know what I was, what the hell I was doing, but at least I was awake.

I looked around. This wasn’t the life I wanted. None of this. None of it was familiar to me, even though I’d been around it for 40 years.

The jig was up. My life, whether I wanted it to or not, was beginning.

I looked around. The wife, the house, the world….wasn’t mine. I was living it as another person.

So, I began to tear it all down. I ripped the walls apart, tore off the floors, hammered every structure around me that wasn’t nailed down. And if it was, it was burned and wiped clean.

All of it. Except my kids, had to go. Keeping any of it around meant keeping the last visages of my former life and that wasn’t me, it never was me.

My life before this, in my 20’s, was just me looking up at the stars at night and walking around, pining for that girl that would complete my life. I wasn’t concerned about success, because success was spelled out for me by my loved ones.

You had to:

  • Get a job
  • Get a car
  • Get a college degree
  • Get a house
  • Get a wife
  • Get kids

And all would be well. This was the life that everyone dreamed about, so naturally, when some of these parts eluded me, I would pine on how to get those parts. Because, as we’re told, if we get these missing parts, we win, right?

Wrong. Dead wrong. The men who went before me found out the same way I did that the to do list of life’s musts will not fulfill you, only complicated a man’s life, especially a man who doesn’t know any better.

A man has to want these in his life. Yes, many are a requirement to even function in society, but most are not needed for a man to feel truly fulfilled. But often, it portrayed as a list of things that men MUST do in order to feel they’ve accomplished something in life.

I have news for men out there. This list? Not even close to the list you want to have when it comes to living a fulfilling life. It’s a simplified version of a much larger span of items to “check off”.

Life is not a check list.

The Price of Ignorance

Young men these days, as in my days in the late 90’s, are still being fed the bullshit lines of living life the way society deems acceptable. Checking off the major items and then going out to pasture, as if you are a horse who’s raced in his prime and now waits to be fed and lives a boring life, or worse, waits to be made into glue.

Young men have no direction, no goals except to make money, blow it, go into debt, party, drink, do drugs, anything that takes away the idea that he needs to have a plan and execute his life. Like a boat with no oars, he just lets the ups and downs, feelings, and fun ride him down after he clocks out from his 9-5.

Now, I’m not saying this stuff is bad. I did this stuff when I was younger, but doing this stuff without any real plan or direction in a young man’s life continues to stymie his eventual growth into a man of the world.

So, when I see a young man who is grinding on HIS dreams, not someone else’s, not what society thinks he should be pursuing, I take notice. Too often young men don’t drink the water of life for their own sake, grinding towards an eventual dream of a full, real-life that he’s created, but they drink society’s Kool-Aid and burn out long before they’ve had a chance to even get started on a life they want.

The problem is that men are not taught about the importance of finding a life they want. They are chucked into the sausage making of what they are supposed to do for society to deem them a success. Look at your big time millionaires. Very seldom have these men done what society expected them to do. They started a dream that they had, despite all the odds against them.

They told society, their families, and their friends to keep their rules for how to live and they chucked it all out the window for a chance at REAL glory and success in their lives.

It’s why the number one thing on a man’s list shouldn’t be anything but throwing the yolk of society’s expectations off and shifting into 5th gear as fast as he can to get to where he wants to go.

Where HE wants to go…..not anyone else….

It’s why men like myself, who’ve been put through the ringer that society calls a success and rejected it in the form of a midlife crisis. We have much to teach the younger generation of men, including the fact that the rule book about a man’s life was always wrong. It shouldn’t be a book. It should be one page:

“Do what makes you happy, fulfilled, and successful. All other roads lead to someone else’s plan.”

Life Reassessment

Photo credit – Yes “Owner of a Lonely Heart” Music Video

A mid-life crisis or a life crisis, in general, is a misnomer and has been utilized incorrectly because, as society sees it, a man who chooses to go his own way is a problem.

The issues we see in men today is that society deems a midlife crisis as a BAD thing. A man who simply wants to push away from the plan, the matrix, if you will, is criticized, shunned, and ridiculed to the point that he is judged on why he doesn’t play nice with a perfectly good plan that many men, brainwashed by the same bullshit that he was, would be happy to have.

Men need a crisis. But it isn’t a crisis. It’s a personal assessment of his life. It needs to happen often so he can check his trajectory.

He should have every right to choose his path, regardless of what it is or where it leads. Do many men make terrible choices? Of course. But it was their choice. Our job as the older generation is to help them make the best choice they can, with the best information they can get, knowing that the choice they made is the choice they live with, but can always change.

Life’s not a fall down a drain. It’s a controlled movement to do what you feel is best for your life.

As has been said:

“Freedom of choice doesn’t mean freedom from consequences of that choice.”

But in general, I’m going to try to tell men what I feel they need to do to get better. It’s just my opinion, they are free to do anything else. But as my life has shown, I want men to take the path THEY want, with as much information as they can get, and live with their choice. But also have the option to change that choice if it doesn’t pan out.

There are many paths to a fulfilling life, and none of them are one way. You have choices, you have chances to re-calibrate, you have options, you just need the time, information, and patience to look at all of it.

You are not on anyone else’s time schedule. You take your time, you find out what you want, and you take it.

Men who are told where to go will more often than not have a “come to Jesus” moment in their lives.

Call it a crisis, but it isn’t.

Men Must Have Crises

Life assessment, not crises, is REQUIRED for all men. These are not crises, they’re simply life goals, purpose, and direction being adjusted for the situations that arise.

But men have every right to go where they want to go, do what they want to do, and do so without the condescension and judgment of those who wish them to do the “right” thing.

The right thing is a matter of perspective, and any perspective but for the man’s own is incorrect in my opinion.

He has every right to live his life under the auspices of controlling his own destiny. What he chooses to do with his life, whether it’s enjoying the decline, doing all manners of drugs and pissing away his life, or any of the countless other outcomes is completely up to him.

My job is to educate him on the path I took, not necessarily saying it’s better, but showing him that there is more to life than what he sees before him.

A man needs mentors, those who would educate him and present him options, with no strings attached, as to what he can do with his life.

The more information a man has, the more his life is in his control and he will make the best of the options he has.

Mid-life crises are necessary for this reason. A man must always be re-calibrating his life goals, mission, and trajectory.

My mid-life crisis, that of my divorce and subsequent red-pilling saved my life. It taught me that this life, for however long it goes, is mine to do with what I choose.

My choice will always be checked, re-assessed, and re-examined. That’s because doing that analysis is what is best for my future.

You must stand a post and remain constantly vigilant in your life. Always be focusing on what you can do to make it better, more fulfilling, more the way you want it.

And do not let anyone else, whether it’s society, family, friends, or others, tell you how to live your life. There isn’t a checklist that you have to tick off. There isn’t a plan you have to abide by. There isn’t a book on how to live life the right way.

It’s your call. You have every right to make it.

Make it a good one.

Make Your Peace

Photo credit:

He wasn’t me.

He was the man I thought everyone wanted me to be.

He was weak. He was a people pleaser. He didn’t stand up for himself. He danced when confronted.

He was me. Past me.

This was a man who failed to take responsibility for his life. A man, guided and controlled by people who he thought knew what was best for him. A man who decided to let go of the wheel of his life because that’s what he thought he was supposed to do.

A man who took orders without question, lived his life by the book, and didn’t take risks for fear of losing what comfort he could muster. A man who played prevent defense his whole life.

He wasn’t me.

The man who went sexless in his life until 27. The man who bitched and complained about how his life wasn’t what it was supposed to be. The man who waited for good things to happen, and when they didn’t, went into depressed mode.

The man who was passive aggressive to all of the people who were trying to run his life, instead of telling them “no” and taking a stand.

A man plugged into a world that hated him and controlled him, telling him what to do, when to do it, and how he was broken and needed to be fixed because he wasn’t doing what he was told to do.

A man who chose to avoid confrontation, no matter how benign, who would destroy everything else just to avoid the uncomfortable discussions, who would avoid all interaction, hoping instead to hide from life, with chest lowered, back slinking, and loyalties questioned.

He wasn’t me.

But what he has taught me is immeasurable.

Learn From the Beta

We hear “kill the beta” from the manosphere all the time. The problem with killing him is that he has lessons that he can teach you. Because men are committing suicide at alarming rates, we must quickly kill the beta. But many aren’t learning from the beta they just destroyed, and they tend to fall right back into the old ways, or worse, develop a new persona hell bent on self destruction, hate and inceldom, rather than understanding the old person they were and using the lessons in him.

That was the difference I saw in myself. The dipshit I was taught me lesson after lesson, and still resides inside of me in the form of warnings on how not to be. He hasn’t died, he’s been relegated to purgatory for the rest of my life, only coming out to remind me of what I used to be. I haven’t killed him, nor will I, as the numerous examples daily that he teaches me are utilized in tandem with the new, better man I’ve become.

In short, he’s a signpost tattooed in my soul that tells me what I did wasn’t correct and his constant reminders show me that what I am currently doing is the right thing.

You kill the beta before you learn from him? You fall into the same traps or worse, go to the other extreme and fall down again, this time the other way.

Men kill the beta and then go the other way, blaming women and society again for their lack of success. It’s why MGTOW and incels are past betas. They refused to learn the lessons that their weak blue pilled successor taught them, only going to the other extreme in the world, cutting off society and women as too sick to save and not giving himself a fighting chance in the world.

You don’t get better in this world by cutting off certain parts of it that you deem unacceptable or evil.

You get better by accepting who you were, making peace with that person, and moving forward with the knowledge his failed endeavors provides.

You can hate him, but you can’t change him. Your past self is a part of you, whether you like it or not, and exorcising him out of your life by killing him does nothing if you don’t understand the failures he participated in.

In a historical context, many rulers made examples of past rulers by killing them and moving on. But what they didn’t do, and what many past rulers found out the hard way, is that by killing them, they didn’t learn a damn thing about what those rulers did wrong. So, as these new rulers blundered into a similar fate as their predecessor, they lemminged their way off a cliff of the same mistakes.

Murdering your beta has benefits, but they don’t serve the greater purpose of forming a new, better man, well aware of the pitfalls of his past self. I refer to my beta often to remind myself of what I was, where I was, versus where I currently am.

Be On Guard Always

One of the hardest things for men to understand, especially unplugged men, are the dangers of going back down the road of the beta. Suicide is a very real danger from the beta, which is why the manosphere tells you to kill this bastard before he turns the gun on you. Killing him, however, destroys a part of you that is necessary to learn from. You shouldn’t kill him as much as use him and your memories of his deeds to remain vigilant to the dangers of going back to being plugged in.

Killing the beta, and by extension forgetting the mistakes you made, makes you susceptible to the same mistakes again, or even worse, becoming radicalized by inceldom. The beta reminds us that when we were him, we blamed everyone else for our lack of action. We believed the bullshit that was being peddled to us.

And we must, we MUST, remember all of this. I am constantly looking back at the stuff I bought as truth when I was plugged in. I shake my head each time because I am reminded by the past that I must still remain vigilant to myself and my purpose to not let this fucker back at the wheel. He’s not dead, merely in a state of suspended animation, with his past deeds replaying in my mind as I have new and better interactions with people with bookmarks on my brain reminding me what not to do.

This past man has allowed me to learn more during interactions, relationships, dating, and dealing with people in general and has pushed me past what I was into new areas where I see my life improving daily.

I stopped taking shit from people. He teaches me how I was. And I’m not that guy anymore.

And every day, every hour, every minute, every second, I think about that guy, and he appears to me in every thing I do, telling me what lessons he can on what not to do.

And by simply doing the opposite of what he did, I’ve seen my life explode in success and confidence.

He’s not going to die by my hand, nor will I die by his.

We’ve made peace with each other. I’ve made peace with my past.

Now onto an amazing future.

Of A Certain Age

The manosphere, for lack of a better term, has become a driving force in helping men get control of their lives. From unplugging men, to fitness, to inter-gender communication, sex, relationships, philosophy, and all in between, I’ve seen many men get the help they need.

But as I’ve detailed in many past posts, when it comes to defining women and what a man needs to look for in one, the blacks and whites of the manosphere ideology come out.

In one of my most read blog posts, The Single Mom Dating Dilemma, parts of the manosphere pursue unapproachable extremes when it comes to the type of women you MUST have in your life.

Exaggerated at times, there are those who DEMAND you only date virgins in their early 20’s and as they age and the more the world pierces them, the lower quality they become.

The manosphere tends to skew to the ideological outliers when it comes to getting men to ONLY choose women who haven’t been “tainted” with promiscuity or feminism.

Single motherhood is frowned upon, even as I write in my own experiences that I’ve seen the opposite from good, upstanding single moms who I’ve dated.

But there are BAD single moms, but not all single moms are BAD.

There are BAD older women, but not all older women are BAD.

THAT’S the difference here.

My job, as I’ve tried to show, is to portray an accurate picture of the dating world and what I’ve found using inter-gender tropes, for the most part, has helped me avoid the bad women. But there are still too many guys who go to the same well when it comes to judging all women as bad if they fit into a certain category.

This particular blog will help to tackle one of the biggest tropes out there that, just like single motherhood, is trying to paint with a broad brush a picture of women that isn’t entirely true and has too much nuance to be so black and white.

Yep, the dreaded WALL.


The wall, coined in Rollo Tomassi’s excellent book, The Rational Male, is the point when a woman’s SMV (sexual market value) starts to decline. And depending on how a woman used her “party years”, her wall may come earlier than other women. As I call it, a woman who’s been “rode hard and put away wet” has a tendency to hit the wall much sooner than women who don’t.

SMV Chart – Credit “The Rational Male” by Rollo Tomassi

This chart, while valuable in it’s analysis of the analytics of gender sexual value, can be read to tell me to avoid older women, simply because of their age.

And the problem is, in most things, is that this is theory. Practice, generally, yields different results.

An example, men are told they generally should avoid older women. Why? The main driver? Procreation and attractiveness.

Men’s sole drive in sex is to reproduce. It’s what has been programmed into us over millennia. Our job is to procreate. That’s the bottom line.

And, as we know, women’s biological functions have an expiration date. As they get older, their ability to have kids falters. This is a fact.

And, younger women tend to be more attractive. As women age, they show it, that’s biology as well. As men age, we get more attractive. This is the way it’s set up and we can’t well argue with any of it.

I’m not here to disprove any aspect of Rollo’s or anyone else’s work, as I believe it’s valuable for giving men a picture of why SMV and inter-gender dynamics work. It’s a very needed piece of the manosphere because it raises men’s awareness of the biological differences between men and women.

But I want to show what I’ve found, dealing with these concepts on a daily basis in my dating life, and the realities of what happens when theories are placed against the real world.

The Woman You Want Depends On The Man You Are

The manosphere is right. If you are a man that wants to have kids, you should go with a younger woman.

And also, by the numbers, the younger the woman, the less she’s been exposed to heaux life and had multiple partners.

But, as I’ve said, many times, age does not correlate to hoedom, nor does the younger woman equate to the perfect wife.

Are we selling men on the mindless Stepford wives myth where they expect to field a virgin, early 20 year old who exists to only serve him?

Women are much more dynamic these days and with the advent of birth control and the Sexual Revolution, women have been exposed to decades of feminism and its ideals. You aren’t going to find the “untouched” nuggets save for a religiously isolated group or other such nonsense that hasn’t been hit by societal upheaval breaking towards feminism.

Here’s the deal: If I was looking to have more kids, I would choose a younger woman. But that wouldn’t be the only aspect that I would consider. I’m not dominant. I don’t want a submissive woman. I want a woman who’s strong enough on her own to match my dynamic.

But what happens if you are an older man who doesn’t want kids or already has them?

The majority of younger women I’ve dated (from 23 – 35) were fine, but they weren’t on my wavelength in terms of the maturity factor. It’s fine to date them, and I encourage men to date all ages of women to see what works for them, but in MY case, I have found that dating a woman closer to my own age (44) has been a good thing.

There are exceptions and grey areas all over the place for the wall.

What if a woman takes care of herself into her 40’s and is in better shape that she was earlier on?

What if a woman only has 1 or 2 sexual partners her whole life? (Yes guys, they do exist.)

I don’t want the manosphere to push a man to make a decision based on age alone, because while a young woman is wonderful to date, the age gap and maturity issues can be an issue. Try listening to Steely Dan’s “Hey 19” and you’ll understand.

I’m also not saying that older women harping on men for picking up younger women is right either. Men have a right to choose who gets to be in their life, and age should neither fast track nor disqualify any woman. If a man finds a woman younger than him, in many cases 15-20 years younger, good for him, that’s a personal choice that factors in many different things, including kids, that he has every right to take into account.

In a time where the personal preference of women for men has taken a back seat to broad-ranging narratives on how men should choose a potential mate, with age and single motherhood being primary disqualifiers, the bottom line is it’s ultimately up to the man to make those choices. They must make them being educated and well versed in all the pitfalls and benefits, as well as knowing who he is to help him weed out potential bad seeds and hoes.

Dating women who are younger or older isn’t a science, and each comes with its share of issues and benefits.

But pushing recently unplugged men into “and/or” narratives doesn’t educate him, it only forces him to not think for himself and use tired platitudes that some of the man pundits parrot nauseatingly often to a tune of group-think ideologies that the manosphere was created to get away from.

In general, stop saying “don’t date older women” or “don’t date single mothers” because men will treat both with disdain when many of them are perfectly fine and will enhance a man’s life.

Pointing out bad actors in a group by using a broad brush to paint with is what the manosphere is trying to get away from, because feminism paints us with the same broad brush. We’re “misogynists” even if we very clearly aren’t, because the heavy lifting needed to show that we are different is too hard for feminist elites to take.

It’s easier to demonize a whole group than think that maybe the ideologues in each group are whipping up resentment unfairly. And yes, I do the same thing when I reference feminism, but I’ve yet to meet a good feminist. 🙂

“If You Like Her, Date Her.”

Platitudes can be good, but they can also be cancerous.

The manosphere should prepare men by giving them the information they need to make an informed decision on what woman he should have in his life, not point out groups of women to avoid because the bad actors take all the headlines and overshadow the really good, solid women who are single mothers, older, and take care of themselves both physically and mentally.

There are women who didn’t succumb to the feminist narrative, living well into their 30’s and 40’s and taking on the challenges of being your “Ride or Die.” They are beautiful souls who don’t believe the crap, made good choices in their lives, and recognize that if they did make mistakes, they took responsibility for those mistakes.

A woman, regardless of age, who owns her situation, is a woman that is miles ahead of the feminist lapdogs who blame men and their perceived toxicity for everything that has befallen them.

Her age doesn’t matter if she enhances you in the right ways. If she’s loyal, supportive, sexy, attractive, funny, wise, and sharpens your steel so to speak, you, as the man, should be able to tell what works for you and doesn’t.

I’ve seen many a man follow the manosphere advice of no older women and fall into a trap of being with someone who doesn’t gel with him.

“But at least she’s young and attractive. Just because we don’t have a ton in common, doesn’t mean she’s not for me.”

She can be older and be just as hot. And her attitude, personality, maturity can be just as attractive to a man looking for just that.

If a younger woman works for you, go for it. But as a man, your job is to run your life, and if someone wants to be a part of that, you have to vet and make sure she has a place in it. Her job is to support you, be there for you, and have a connection that transcends everything else. A teammate to help you conquer the world, not just make babies with no other connections.

Gentlemen, regardless of age or single motherhood, it is ultimately on YOU to choose the right woman for you.

This is what the manosphere is trying to do. And certainly what I’m trying to do.

We educate you on the realities of dating, all while showing you the analytics of the world of women. It’s all valuable data that should help a man make a good choice in a partner.

We educate you to date around, have a good time in a responsible manner, and if you ever want to settle down, give you a basis for how to do that.

We educate you on the good and bad of women who are older. It’s a personal preference for many men, and most importantly, it’s not about their age but about their attitudes.

We educate you on choosing a woman based on age because if you want kids, an older woman will probably not be a good choice.

We educate you on dating around to see what preferences you like, and many men, especially in the manosphere, are dating or married to women close to their age with no issues at all.

It’s about finding a partner for your purpose.

Men, take it from me. There are a ton of sexy, attractive, intelligent, loyal, dynamic, nurturing, fit, and incredible women in their 40’s to date.

I should know, because I’m dating an amazing one.