“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 can personally attest to the difficulty of this philosophy, as many men get back together with a person they swore they wouldn’t.
I’ve been lucky, however, in that my blue pill beta years featured many exes who would not take me back, even after I tried to get them back.
The pull of an ex is great. Especially if you are a man who needs to have someone in your life and you don’t have many options.
Men don’t have the selection women do. Especially blue-pilled men who cling to any relationship (or any woman who says yes to them sexually) and they lose her because of their clinginess.
I had a penchant for desperation. So after my 20’s being a hopeless romantic blue piller, I got married. After my divorce, I went back to my desperate neediness with women I dated.
After I got divorced, I really hadn’t learned anything. I still wasn’t good with women, because I had only had sex with one. When women started to come into my life with more regularity as my separation was occurring, naturally, I started to get into relationships (even though I only really count 4) of months with damaged women because I, myself, was damaged goods.
So the relationships I was having were trash, but as a weak minded man, I assumed this is how relationships work.
Many men don’t understand how to be in a healthy relationship because they’ve never had one. With me, my dysfunctional marriage where I didn’t even know who the hell I was turned into relationships with damaged broads where I had the same damn problem.
But the assumption was that these relationships were good because there was a living, breathing woman who could stand me for 5 minutes was my qualification, and it was a horrible one.
So as the damaged women piled up, the attraction to the most damaged, most crazy, most problematic would put me into short, 3-5 month relationships that would almost always end in disaster.
Either I was too needy, saying “I love you” within weeks of meeting, introducing my kids in rapid fashion, doing all the things that blue pilled chumps do to rush in with the first woman who touched his penis.
I WAS THAT GUY.
And as the women broke up with me, I would be sick with missing them. I would blow up their phones with messages, text them incessantly, mope around and feel like the last thing was the real thing, as that girl was the only one who said yes to my advances. It’s like I lucked into these relationships, not thinking about why, and then as they ended (I can now see why, I couldn’t back then) I would try to grab onto these dysfunctional shit shows hoping to get back to that life I had when we had first dated.
But my issue was two fold:
a) I was attracted to shitty women
b) I was not in a good place myself
So, yearning for these relationships, as bad as they were, was my lot in life after my divorce.
For 3 years I limped from one relationship to the next, feeling glad another woman said yes while becoming too needy, clingy, and love-struck within minutes of hitting it off. And as the predictable end of the relationship was occurring, I would fight it with the “love yous” and “need yous”, not because of any other reason but I was a lonely chump who thought this was his last chance at love.
The Ex – Issues With Getting Her Back
Men these days, an overwhelming amount of them, act this way with women. We commit to emotion far too quickly, our beggary becomes absolutely detestable. But it’s only because we don’t get pussy at a regular rate. When we treat pussy as scarce, we do things to try to keep it in our lives, and that’s the major issue with men who just can’t let go.
Regardless if they initiate the breakup or not (most of the time, the woman does it), men can’t let go of a woman who treated them like shit, because at least she spread her legs for him. She could absolutely emasculate him, humiliate him in front of his friends, even cheat on him, and he’ll let it slide because he “loves” her. It’s a similar trope to a woman who stays in an abusive relationship.
A man who has zero self esteem or self worth can’t begin to be in a healthy relationship, so they stumble from damaged woman to damaged woman, with no hope of seeing a healthy chick in this parade of crazies.
This was me. After my marriage, in an empty house, I would be the picture of the guy who attracted all the damaged broads. Nearly all of them had more issues than Sports Illustrated, but it was simply because I was getting regular pussy from irregular girls that kept me going. And then they left after I became over attached. And then, instead of doing what I should have done (more on that below), I decided to over text, over call, even “stalk” women to the point I would be a mess, getting upset and angry because they wouldn’t give me another chance.
So I drifted from a bad relationship to one night stand to a bad relationship, with the same results. Get attached, get dumped, get depressed, get back up, then get back into another shitty situation. And in between, I was a sobbing moron who decided to send just one more text, one more call, and that would make it better.
Many men don’t evolve and fall back into the same pattern, and even worse, they take back an ex. Imagine after all my pining, the woman I was dating took me back. She could then know she had control over my life. This is where guys get into major amounts of trouble. They are convinced they need their woman and will do anything simping to do it. And they get her back. And they regret it for the rest of their lives because their relationship with that girl was shit, but the pussy was good (even if it wasn’t), and most times, it isn’t worth the sacrifices men make to “get her back”.
Imagine surrendering yourself to someone who doesn’t give a fuck about you. Would you put yourself in that position? Many men do when they reach out to me and ask, “How can I get her back?”
It never pays to get back with an ex.
The Ex – What You Should Do
There’s a reason I’ve never gotten back with an ex.
And a reason you shouldn’t either.
When it doesn’t work, it doesn’t.
You can will your way to a good relationship with someone if there’s major issues with yourself. It never fails. We’ve been told as a society that another person is designed to “complete” you. And this line of thinking has destroyed many a relationship.
But men will bolt back to an unhealthy relationship because it’s all they think they can get, all they think they have, and when they lose it, it’s the only thing on their minds.
That’s why the most important thing you can do with an ex is NO CONTACT.
Bury the past or it will bury you.
You, as a man, have to have the self respect to accept the fact that you don’t need to get back with an ex, especially someone who was damaging to themselves and to you. I would say this to men who were the same way. Work on yourself before you go to date.
Be honest with who the hell you are, and be accepting in the fact that there are relationships that won’t work out. Those relationships are meant for you to learn from, not to try and salvage.
But you’ll keep going back to the battery, getting shocked so hard but saying to yourself, “It’s not that bad, at least I’m not alone.”
Being so terrified to be alone, to leave a person who is fucking horrible for you, someone who doesn’t give a flying fuck about you or your life when you break up. But yet, YOU WANT THEM BACK.
You cry and pine for someone, anyone, who actually is terrible for you and what you are doing.
So, go dark. Do not contact your ex. Don’t even try it. It just isn’t going to be good for you to go back to that. There’s a reason it didn’t work.
I tell men to give their ex static. A woman who knows she’s got your goat when it comes to contact will continue to twist the dagger in to you if you let her, so don’t let her. Block her number, remove her from all social media contacts, and push away from even the faintest chance that she can contact you. The biggest fail for guys and their exes is they let them back in, giving them leeway they wouldn’t give another woman they don’t know, because she’s had sex with him.
Guys will allow women to do some of the worst shit to them all in worship of the pussy. Guys don’t miss the girl, they miss the regular sex. If she’s a psycho, they’ll miss the regular awesome sex. But slashed tires, death threats and property damage from their exes don’t see to get through to the little head.
Treat your ex like you treat anything else bad that has happened to you. Shocked yourself doing electrical work? Don’t do that again. Got into a car accident because you weren’t paying attention? Should probably remember not to do that.
An ex is a lesson. A lesson on what not to do. Too often as men, we are bothered by making a mistake and admitting we made it. So we go back against our better judgement. Please stop. Don’t. She’s not worth the pain and misery you’ll be subjecting yourself to by turning to the past that hurt you.
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.
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.”
Many strong relationships that have stood the test of time in many cases, are starting to fray.
I’ve watched good friends get cheated on by their wives. I’ve watched good friends cheat on their wives. I’ve watched relationships that I was convinced would never fall apart collapse quicker than an old building.
This pandemic didn’t cause the relationships to fail, all it did was hasten the destruction already inflicted. And many people are choosing to destroy their relationships.
Yes, even my parents. 45 years of marriage, starting to buckle because of old age, health problems, and anxiety about the future and what it holds.
It’s taken it’s toll and I’ve had to watch it first hand.
Disheartening? Yes. Disappointing? Of course. But I won’t say it’s unexpected, nor will I say that I don’t know the eventual result.
It hurts more because I know the WHYS and HOWS of these happenings.
When you become red-pilled, you see shit you don’t want to see. You understand the truth of life and you have to grapple with the consequences of the knowledge you have. You have to understand that everyday, a nuke drops somewhere, and you can’t do anything to stop it. You watch it, make a note of how it happened, and try like hell to make sure it doesn’t happen to you or anyone you love.
Knowing versus Not Knowing
When I was married, I was naive to many of the issues I know now. And that’s problematic because the problems I was told were the issue versus the ones that really ARE the issue is a dangerous place to be.
Ignorance is bliss, it seems, until the knowledge hits you like a boxer in the first round.
So, as with my own marriage and the problems I didn’t see until it was too late, I had to learn the hard way. I had to go through intensive therapy in order to understand the issues in my marriage, so understand that most people who are married don’t have the intellectual cajones to even fathom the basics of why they are having issues in their marriages.
Married life, for me and millions of people, is walking with a blindfold on hoping you don’t hit something. People HOPE their love is enough and it will transcend all other problems. But when the problems become too big or if many hit at once, we see a once-proud institution buckle mightily because the marriage is only as strong as the people in it. And many people are showing weaknesses even before the vows are uttered.
So, in my experience, I was ignorant in the ways of what I needed to do and look for in my marriage and in my life in general. I was under the impression, especially with other relationships I observed around me, that being present was the only requirement for marriage. It wasn’t work, it was “OK, I found my significant other, time to put down the hammer and get fat and complacent. She loves me for me, so it’s no problem.”
And I acted like it. I did what I was supposed to do, not what I should have been doing. I did the bare minimum to make the marriage work, and low and behold, it failed in less than a decade.
And all because I didn’t bother to learn how it worked, I was just glad I found someone. And my ex was glad her biological clock was arrested and she had two kids. At that point, I was terrible with women and she was the first to say yes, and she had been in unfulfilling relationships with men who didn’t want to commit. So we weren’t a strong marriage, we were a means to an end.
And, as I got more educated through what I went through with my own divorce, it’s natural for me to see similar issues with other people’s relationships, especially those closest to me.
The wreck of my marriage, for all the bad things it brought, gave me the knowledge and foresight to be able to have a healthier relationship in the future, and that started with myself and becoming better.
That knowledge, whether I wanted it or not, is on full display with all the relationships I see with the people that are closest to me. I try to impart some of what I learned to the people who need it most.
But here’s the major issue with that….they either can’t or refuse to hear it.
And so, I become preachy and obnoxious to them because I try to tell them to avoid the mistakes I made. I become annoyed when I see things they are doing (or more often times NOT doing) and I have to say something, only to be pushed away and shown the door. My warnings don’t mean much when they won’t heed them. They see my life, not as a success story where I am finally happy and a well-rounded individual who’s taking responsibility for his life, but as a stain of single masculinity. “At least I’m not single” becomes the battle cry of people who lack the intestinal fortitude to make their lives better, citing fate and luck as the main catalysts of their marriage.
After trying to help and getting rebuffed, it’s time to watch the nuke.
Powerlessness Coupled with Understanding
Look, my experiences aren’t the way to go, I understand that. My advice is just that, advice. I’m not going to pretend I’m a relationship expert. And, quite frankly, some relationships are destined to fail. Hell, some relationships need to fail.
But it still doesn’t make watching them falter any more pleasant. I’ve had several friends whose marriages have failed this year alone who I’ve had to console or talk to in order to tell them that regardless of what I did say or do in order to warn them, I just couldn’t get through to them until the rubble settled.
Sometimes, the best advice you can give someone is no advice at all. Letting them fail, while difficult, is the best way for them to understand and learn from the mistakes they made.
It still sucks to watch it all go down. It still blows to have to witness the nuke, people you love and respect, watching their world crumble.
But, as I watch, there’s something I understand.
There’s only so much you can do as a person outside of the blast radius.
You can’t put yourself in their situation and steer away from the bridge.
Sometimes, they have to drive off the cliff in order to see what mistakes they made.
It’s why watching friends and family struggle in their hollow marriages is so difficult, but also a necessity. They need to understand that there may be a way to save their marriages, but it would involve behavioral adjustments and epiphanies they just won’t understand, let alone do.
THEY have to make the decision, they have to do the work, they have to see the issues. And more times than not, they don’t.
Look, I don’t want my parents to split up. I don’t want my friends to have this heartache of a cheating spouse. Their worlds are crumbling and the best I can do is to support them going through these difficult life experiences.
Because the bottom line is that is all I can do for them. Be there to listen, support, and try to help where I can.
This is a time they need a strong friend, son, brother, etc to help them make sense of what’s going on in their lives. You may very well know what’s happening with them because of your own experiences and telling them “I told you so” doesn’t do anything but piss them off and shit on their circumstances.
They need someone who can understand what they’re going through and point them in the right direction after the damage has been done.
Sometimes you just can’t save it. It sucks, but that’s how it is.
The nuke’s going to go off. You have to be there to help rebuild.
“Jesus I hope he’s okay”, I thought. “Fuck this is so bad he may try to off himself”, I mumbled. I couldn’t stop worrying. I’d already downed two tall beers waiting on him, and a third was on deck.
He showed up disheveled, but in one piece.
“Sorry, man, I just got off work. It’s been a rough couple of days”, he stammered.
“I’d imagine”, I talked back.
“So what the fuck is going on? She cheated on you?”
“Yea, with one of my friends. At least I think so. She’s already left the house with the kids when she knew I knew, so….”, he looked exhausted.
This once proud man, who now was a shell of his former self, had the “perfect life”. He had a wife, 3 children, and, according to his social media, a white picket fence life of pure happiness. He worked as a dispatch operations manager for a large trucking company, successful, his wife was a stay at home mom who had recently gotten a new job after she had studied to be an accountant.
For years, this couple was the toast of my trucking friends circle. Beautiful house, a loving family, the whole dream that we are told that we should all aspire to, and the friend get-togethers were the best. Always smiling, rarely stressed, the picture of happiness. Family pictures every year, vacations, their social media was abuzz with the facade of perfection, joy, and general envy of all those around them.
He didn’t know where to start. I could see he was reeling. As he started to tell me what happened, I began to see the cracks in his facade.
“Dude, dude, you have to be kidding. You’ve always been the perfect couple. The marriage everyone wanted. What happened?” I asked in disbelief.
As he sat across from me on that humid August night, sipping a beer, nearly in tears, he then realized that his marriage had been an elaborate game of pretending. And now, shit got real.
The house, the cars, the wife, the kids, the life, all of it, was an elaborate ruse to show people how life was “supposed” to be, but not how it was. He was putting on a show, an expensive, debt crushing, false act whose consequences were now inevitably showing themselves in his mind.
And the more he spoke about it, the more terrified he became. It was hitting, it was real now, all the shit was falling down around him, and all he could do was watch.
She had cheated. She had gone outside the marriage. This perfect picture he had built, on a rusty foundation of lies, bitterness, jealousy, and mistrust, was gone. When the cameras were snapping, it was the picturesque family life. But when they turned off, the dark side of the marriage came up.
He explained that the arguments were off the charts. He would go so far as to punish the kids for not lying about how happy they were when they talked to their friends. He was in debt hundreds of thousands of dollars. He had a boat, two cars, a camper, and a gigantic house.
All for the show, it seems. All for show.
Paint the Picture
As he stuttered through his sentences, trying to grasp the gravity of his situation, I thought about my own marriage. I was struggling with my own life. I was still married, but not two years earlier, my wife and I had gotten ourselves a gigantic, 4300 sq ft house with 4 car garage, pool, two wings, and plenty of space for guests. We dreamed of entertaining our guests, making them envious of our new space, all while painting the picture of two people very much in love with each other and their lives being a natural growth of that.
But, under the picture perfect house and world….
My wife and I weren’t having sex, nor were we engaged in a marriage, it was now a business partnership.
I was killing myself at work at the time to pay for this monstrosity.
My kids were having issues at school and were seeing the dead marriage manifest itself into other areas
But what we were doing as a couple was trying to cover up the fact that we were both miserable. And the only thing that this house and this life did was stress the cracks that were already there, and they were getting bigger.
All of this happening as my friend poured over his drink talking about his wife’s betrayal to him. But was this a betrayal to him? After all, the dude he was wasn’t the dude he was portraying himself to be. She was cheating on that other guy, not the man who sat before me.
For 2 decades, he had carefully crafted a narrative and told his family to live by it, damn the consequences.
So they did, convincing themselves everyday that this was their life, even if it was the furthest thing from the truth.
And all of their friends, including myself, were playing the game as well. We all wanted to be pictured as successful, happy, and driven because, well, envy and adulation gives you that dopamine kick and makes you think you’re doing well, even when you aren’t even close.
So I made decisions that would come to haunt me in my future, all because I wanted to be liked and admired.
When people would ask, I’d lie. I had to. They saw my posts, they saw my life, I know they wanted to be just like me, successful, happy, and confident. But I was none of those things. Friends who I’d known for longer started to understand my moods. They knew I was lying about my life. And it took me talking to my therapist about it to realize that my life was a fiction.
But here’s the really scary thing. It seemed as if every person was inventing a life to be seen on social media.
Husbands cheating on their wives and the family showing a perfect face every time the camera was on.
Financial ruin or layoff that was played off as the rubble burned.
“Keep your face in front of your friends. Don’t let them know you struggle.”
And more and more of my friends were trying like hell to bury the body of their failed lives by buying new things, all while smiling as the snake bit their calf and the venom circulated in their body.
“You can’t show people weakness, they’ll not respect you….”
I was told this on many occasions.
You Can’t Invent A Life
Showing you have the perfect life most often means it’s not perfect.
Being married doesn’t guarantee good advice.
Being successful in view very rarely means you are behind the scenes.
We invent these lives because it’s not about what we want, it’s about what we want to prove.
Be careful, young kings and queens, putting your faith in those who’s world looks perfect from the outside, but on the inside, it’s crumbling.
Your advice should come from the goods, the bads, and the uglies of the marriage world.
The iceberg tends to be bigger under the water.
As I found out from my friend that night, you can’t invent a life, and you sure as hell can’t put band-aids on it to fix it if it’s irretrievably broken.
But people will try to keep the mirage going, many times to a terrible detriment to their own mental and physical health, to show everyone else that they are the best, they are successful, they are better than you.
And it’s more relationships than you think. And the ones who outwardly give advice are the ones who so desperately need to take it. And their friends will defend them to the hilt until the billboard sign falls and charred remains of the fake life are there for all to see.
It all looks so good on paper, in photos, in the eyes of those you wish to impress, but if it’s all a sham, why even do it? People who see you for the person you pretend to be were never going to be your true friends anyway. They glom on to whoever is most successful in their eyes, amateur bullshit artists looking for someone who plays the game better than they do so they can emulate the pretend life.
Social media has given us the opportunity to pretend to be someone we’re not with much more ease and less push back. So many people gun the throttle into this new life and make mistake after mistake eventually leading to disastrous consequences, but like when a Miss America contestant falls and tries to get back up with a smile, it’s going to ring hollow for those that you are trying to impress.
It’s a pissing contest that way too many people are playing way too often. And it’s time for all of us to stop and accept the reality that we sometimes aren’t successful, sometimes we fail spectacularly, and sometimes, yes, we can’t be the best we can be because of limitations.
We worry far too often about the opinions of people we don’t like, but are desperate to impress.
Wanna impress? Try being real. I’ve had times in my life I’ve been called out for lying. Blatantly, and the only thing I felt was shame for trying to bullshit the bullshitters. I felt bad I got caught, not the fact that I actually fucking lied.
My life is boring as fuck, but that’s the way I like it. I travel to meet people on Twitter, I type a blog, I own a small family owned company, I am divorced with two great kids. I don’t scream excitement.
Let’s stop pretending. It’s a sham and you know it, so take down the walls and have folks see you for who you really are. You’ll make more life long friends that way, and you’ll also have less stress of trying to hold up the curtain in Oz.
And if you are pretending, hold tight on giving advice to others. You’re putting on a show for the audience but when you speak the bullshit that people are really listening to, you are forcing them to put on a show as well that they aren’t ready to perform.
It’s time to stop the make believe. That’s the real red pill.
“Arms wide open I stand alone I’m no hero and I’m not made of stone Right or wrong I can hardly tell I’m on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell”.
– Five Finger Death Punch “Wrong Side of Heaven”
I’m not a religious man, never was.
My family was officially Protestant, but my father, as my grandfather before him, was agnostic. My mother took his lead, and my exposure to church was periodic trips on special holidays, or the rare every year Sunday “guilt trip” my mother put our family in that we were going to all burn in hell if we didn’t go and start making a habit of it. But in general, my father helped the family avoid the church because of his uncomfortable relationship with the afterlife. My father was fearful of death, still is to this day at 74, and wasn’t about to have his life, nor his potential afterlife, explained to him in a fiery diatribe from the pulpit. So he did what we all do when we have uneasy thoughts about anything, he avoided it.
I couldn’t totally avoid it, as I was an impressionable young man who needed to be trained in the correct way to worship, led by family friends and eventually by my own friends, whose family would gladly drag the “devil kid” to any service they could on days I spent the night at my friends’ houses. A chance to show him the right way to worship, at the right church, with the right congregation, with the right sermon, from the right priest, reverend, or bishop.
My experiences in church were quite unremarkable. I would go with friends who were Catholic, spend my 90 minutes on Sundays not kneeling when the congregation knelt, feeling like the priest would call me out any time I didn’t know what to say during the hymnal, or yell at me if I dared to come up and take bread and wine. As I got older and went to these functions with friends, I always joked that as soon as I entered the church I’d catch fire because I was “THAT” bad, but I wasn’t even close. God’s light nor Hell’s lighter could touch a kid that didn’t know any better.
My family, at first, when I was younger, would go every Easter, myself and my three older siblings, being force marched by our parents to church to try and atone for the sins of the past year. When my younger sister was born, we started going again sporadically, but we eventually stopped again. It was like each child born was a new attempt to salvage the faith my family didn’t have, until it got to the point where we stopped going altogether.
My mother would occasionally bring up that we should go to church again, meet people in our community, become a family of faith, but my father would grumble and tell her to forget about it. He wasn’t going. He wasn’t having it. No place of worship was going to take the fear of dying away from him, so he continued to stay away, as did his family.
As my adolescence bloomed into adulthood, I was pretty much in the same boat as my father, save the fear of dying. I was uncomfortable in churches, I didn’t understand the sermons dooming me to eternal hellfire if I didn’t worship the way that was required, the music was nauseating, and my high school and college years were spent being socially backward while experimenting with recreational drugs, so the cross wasn’t even in the ballpark of my mind.
I do remember the college religious crowds were annoying. The women, sworn to virginity during the meetings, would hook up with frat guys on the weekends after getting wasted, do the walk of shame home (I saw three girls who were the most religious of the group walking from Fraternity row on three separate occasions, disheveled and hung over) just in time to get back to their halos and the Monday – Friday sanctimoniousness that permeated every aspect of their pretend lives.
Like the parents that sent them there to be good girls (one floor in one of the dorms was called the “Virgin Vault” for super overprotective parents (quick hint – it wasn’t a vault nor were they virgins)), the parents lived their lives differently when the Jonenes were watching and the complete opposite when the curtains and the garage door closed.
I remember hearing my religious floor mates chuckling about who was real and who was fake and I just wondered if church, like high school and college, was just another popularity contest.
As I got married, my now ex-wife, who was about as religious as I was, tried to get me to change my set in ways, but I wasn’t having it. We’d go to church services on Easter, or Christmas Eve, but every church was the same. When my ex and I were on our Dave Ramsey kick, we even went to the church for over 3 months taking Financial Peace University, taking the kids to Sunday school while we did it (the church’s trap for free child care, hell it worked) and learned to manage our finances. But I kept seeing the church trying to aggressively sell us on their services, their message, and their congregation and spirit in the community, and I just saw through all of it. To me, I saw a facade of helpful people hiding a glorified social club, made up of people trying to jockey for prime positions in the church and in the community in case they wanted to run for public office someday.
The local churches even had soccer leagues we enrolled our girls in, hoping to meet new people, gain some perspective, but everywhere I went, I saw the same bullshit people crowing the same bullshit lines that I had heard for years. “If you don’t worship, you’re going to hell. And by the way, our church is the best.”
The church and I have never gotten along….
Sinner, Not a Saint
Sins, I have them. A lot of them.
In my writings, I’ve spoken at length about all of them. My past is full of it.
Cheating (sleeping with married women knowingly and not so), hitting on wives and girlfriends of friends, stealing, anger (I’ve put many a hole in walls), lying, drugs, you name it, I’ve done it all, and the mile long rap sheet would make any priest in confession have to stop and ask for a breather and a glass of water.
That’s why I know there’s no forgiveness for me. I don’t deserve it.
Even if I decided to go to church and absolve my sins, they are too burned into my personal psyche to think that a few thousand hail Mary’s and a dip in holy water (which would boil if I stepped in it, I’m convinced) would absolve what I truly know can’t be absolved. A blessing from a holy man doesn’t help me overcome the fact that I did these things. It doesn’t cleanse my mind of the acts, nor does it help me to sort them out any further. People are under the impression that you can wave a magic wand and be cured of sin when in fact it just gives them an excuse to go out and sin again.
Confessing that I cheated on my soon to be ex-wife with another woman doesn’t take the sting out of my mind. Should ‘t I have worked on the marriage, even if we were separated? Shouldn’t I have tried? Why did I walk away? Why didn’t I do more? No amount of getting it out will make the pain of what I did go away. Emotional affairs with friends wives, sex with women who were married, cheating on a girlfriend, lying to women about seeing other women, hell, even lying to the cops to cover for a troublesome friend gets to me everyday.
There aren’t magic words to make it all go away. The point of it all is I still did it.
What matters is I have to live with myself and my past. I don’t get to forget, nor do I get to move on until I know, myself, that I have done all I can to redeem myself. And, honestly, that probably won’t be enough.
I don’t want pity. I’m telling you there’s a lot of men out there who’ve done worse that I have, that are haunted everyday by the parts of themselves that they can’t change.
But what I am realizing, slowly but surely, is that I can take my troublesome past and create something with it. I can create a future that I can be proud of. And I want to show that any man, with any past, can overcome and push through to redemption.
“I’m sorry for the demon I’ve become.”
Five Finger Death Punch – “Walk Away”
After a life of tough lessons, lost friends and family, and absolute disregard for any kind of nuance or respectfulness, I had to change this life. My red pill unplugging was the first part of this, but seemingly I was getting into the same issues even after that, except now, there wasn’t much of a conscience to this new scorched earth policy of alienating myself from friends, lovers, and family with my actions. I didn’t care as long as I got mine and while many call this the “black pill” I can tell you it was putting my life on self-destruct for the sole purpose of getting my dick wet or at least the potential of it. I was better with women with the explicit distinction that all attractive women were fair game to me. It landed me flirting with married women who’s husbands had had affairs on them. I tried to become the equalizer with some success, but I was trafficking in a dangerous trade.
It’s become one of the worst moments in my life, but also one of the biggest realizations and awakenings that I’ve experienced. This low point of this supposedly new me was breached.
This is not me finding the church, or God, or anything else. This was an experience of finally finding MYSELF and knowing what was important.
My first 31 Days to Masculinity was at about the same time last year and during this time, I started to use my past to build for my future. I made amends with those I’d hurt and broke off relations with those that weren’t salvageable. I knew that my life, at that point being dedicated to helping men, wasn’t looking so good for men who were wanting to improve their lives. A dude who’s sex life thrived on jilted lovers, broken marriages, outright lies and deceit, or unhappy house wives wasn’t what I was trying to sell. Men didn’t need to walk the fucking razor line to truly find a better life. 31 DTM made me face this fact head on. And, even as a man without a country, I was an island at this point, but it was time to start swimming back to shore.
So I started to make it right and started to apply the red pill the right way. No more of this bullshit. It was time for me to grow up, sack up and make my life better by focusing on it primarily, and practice what I was preaching. At that time, I was really covering game and attraction in my tweets and blog. I was applying it to women I shouldn’t have been applying it to, but did it anyway because “enjoy the decline” right?
Dammit, there had to be more to this fucking life…
There is. I’ve found it. Renewed vigor towards my own goals of fitness, finances, foresight, and yes, even a little bit of faith. Once again, the church and I don’t see eye to eye, and probably never will.
The game is never as fun when you have the cheat codes, so I reset and started it over, this time making sure I covered all my bases. I made it a point to go out and meet new people, men and women whom I admire on Twitter and elsewhere, and to go out and meet the men of FoE. It was time for the world to meet the man that sits in between the forgiveness of God and the eternal damnation that I know may be waiting for me.
So, I wake up tomorrow working on a new future for myself. Living the true red pill life. Taking the game that I’ve learned and adding confidence, honesty, authenticity, and a shit ton of attitude. It’s about me now, not anything else. I’ll still approach women, I’ll just be more mindful about their intentions, especially if there’s a ring on that finger. Never rub another man’s rhubarb, even if you think he deserves it. You’ll cash that check with your life if you aren’t careful.
Bros before hoes really does cover it.
The worst I can think of is that I continue to improve my life with the prospect of no forgiveness and no LTR, or a MGTOW wet dream, but I would appreciate a women in my life who supports me in all my endeavors and truly enhances my life.
But if I am running the rest of this life marathon alone, then I am absolutely prepared to do that.
The best I can hope for is being on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell, as Five Finger Death Punch put it so eloquently.
Forgiveness is lost, but give me redemption so that I may live as a symbol to those who walk in my footsteps.
As I’ve documented on many occasions in my blog, countless Twitter feeds, and in my videos, I used to be absolutely terrible with women.
I lost my virginity at 27, I had three girlfriends in high school and college who I never kissed, and the only sexual experience I had before 27 was a bad blowjob in college.
I was so petrified of women (and people in general), I locked myself in my dorm room freshman year of college, only smoking pot with my closest friends and not even going to eat in the cafeteria.
I would clam up, become stiff, make dumb statements (oh look a pooper scooper!!), or just said some general statement that wouldn’t do anything except cause her to look at me in disbelief (or disgust at times).
As I’ve documented, I was the quintessential beta with many of the hangups men today still have. Socially I was retarded. I was awkward with all types of people, and I would not talk to women if I could avoid it.
I developed oneitis for several girls as I grew up and I tried to get them to like me by being the “nice guy”. I failed. Miserably.
Lack of approach, no confidence, social anxiety, as well as fears of about every aspect of personal communication kept me single and a virgin for a time when I should have been laying everything with a pulse.
But, alone I sat, for years, until 2003, when finally, mercifully, I started to get out more, get some hobbies, work out, and then I met my future wife on eHarmony. That was the wall I crashed into.
She loved that I was a virgin. She wanted to “teach” me how to please her. I was a weak, ball-less fuck. I did what I was supposed to do. Name, rank, serial number for 10 years. And it resulted in sex three times in three years at the end of the marriage.
After divorce, I got better with women, only because during my depression, brokeness, and utter discontent with my life, women seemed to come out of the woodwork, as they always do. So by natural progression, I got better with women because they were around more. But I still had a ways to go and had to learn more.
Over the next two years, I got into several relationships where I let the woman lead, all of them ending in a breakup. Liberal women who were desperate to control their relationships are who I fell in with. As you can guess, it didn’t go well. Sex was robotic, I didn’t take control, I kept asking permission, asking “does this feel good?”
It was an unmitigated disaster 4 times over.
Then, I found the red pill. I decided to go to the “monk” mode or MGTOW (men going their own way) phase. I studied, read, and worked on myself at the gym. I lost 70 lbs. I fought to discover who the hell I was.
This intensive period that I needed, in turn, gave me success in my life in other ways.
It really isn’t a secret, either. There’s no magic bullet, no expensive course or book, so I’ll share it with you today, free of charge.
So, how the hell did I get over my fears of dealing with women?
Here it is, the definitive guide to everything female from a man who has lived it.
These are the things I’ve learned after what I was told was complete and utter bullshit.
These are the myths that were concocted to throw men off of what women really want, how they really think, and why it’s important.
I know the secrets now. Hint: They aren’t really secrets, they’re well known, common knowledge that don’t need financing to know.
Sure, you’ll get the women who are NAWALTS (Not all women are like that) professing their mistrust in the information I present here today, but the bottom line is this:
A vast majority of women (meaning all) have the same reproductive organs, mindset, and emotional software installed by whoever you want, God, evolution, the boogeyman, or Santa Claus, it’s all still the same because in the end, NOTHING trumps biology.
Yes, it’s the same for men. We scream that it’s not about sex, but guess what, it IS about sex. It’s always about sex. ALWAYS.
Here’s some quick and dirty tips from yours truly. Many will say they aren’t true, especially women, but I know one thing with my experience. I know women. And what you’ve been told is not correct.
Here’s the list of all the cliche manosphere stuff that I learned. Why post it? Because every last part of it is true.
Here you go:
Get thee to the gym
The first thing I recommend guys do is get into shape. It cures so many ills in regards to life in general, and women specifically, that it is the first thing I recommend. Get to work, get your diet right, and start looking the part. It’s the crucial first step in a man retaking control of his life.
You have to establish a line that no one can cross when it comes to your personal convictions and beliefs. If you are conservative, don’t date liberals, if you are religious, don’t date an atheist. If you don’t like sushi, don’t take your date to a sushi restaurant. Hold fast on the stuff that’s important to you, and don’t compromise for any reason.
You have to have confidence
Building confidence in yourself is the KEY to all of this. You have to be successful in your life in some way to gain confidence. So, I’d recommend getting to the gym, getting involved in some sport, activity, or hobby and get good at it. When you develop your skills and gain confidence when you are successful, you have a blueprint from which to build more.
You have to do MGTOW or monk mode for a while
And with that, you have to take the time to develop these skills. You need to make time for yourself. You need to put you first, pull no punches with your time, and get better everyday. 6 months is a good period, but depending on how much you have to do, you will need all the time in the world.
And yes, you still have to show up and do the work.
You’ll never be done
The work will be a lifelong commitment. You have to put real work into yourself every day. You have to be mindful to making yourself better. You aren’t just done and then you talk to women. You progress doing both. And you learn from it.
Rejection is required
Everyone hates rejection, but men especially do because, especially with a woman, it’s a personal dismissal for something you are presenting. Of course it’s going to burn, because it IS personal. My first rejection was a woman saying she wouldn’t date a fat guy. That hurt, but I took that rejection and put it towards bettering myself. You are going to get rejected. Tear the bandage off and get it over with, then do it again.
She doesn’t care
Regardless of what your hangups, complaints, life issues, or insecurities are, she doesn’t care. She has no motivation to bring you into her life if you are a rebuild or a project. She’s looking for a man who’s sure of himself, put together well, and won’t apologize for living his life his way.
Your self interest is most important
You have to put yourself first. You can’t pour from an empty cup, and if you have yourself put together, you only add value to those around you. A solid foundation is what you are, and the bigger and more sturdy the foundation, the better and bigger the building.
You HAVE TO APPROACH her
You can’t get around rejection and you certainly can’t get around having to pursue and approach a woman. If you find her attractive, you must tell her that and make your intentions known. And you must be prepared for any answer she gives. “Yes?” Play ball. “No?” Walk and go to another girl.
Boldness goes a long way.
Yes, it’s the #MeToo era, but being bold, especially with women who are in a social setting is a lost art. You must state your intentions clearly and boldly, damn the consequences. You don’t get anywhere without taking a risk, and the higher the risk, the greater the reward. But you have to put your ass on the line for her, she’ll respect you a ton more if you are honest and open in your interactions with her. YOU SET THE TONE.
Women will say I don’t understand them, but I do, better than they understand themselves. Remember, women are chaos. Women are emotional creatures who don’t respond to logic as much as they respond to feelings, settings, and imagination. You have to use her imagination in conjunction with your skill. Understand what gets her going. What gets her going is a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to be bold to take it. She LOVES a man who takes control.
Remember, men lead with action. Women follow with support, love, and spirit.
Body language is key
Not only do you have to make sure your body language is on point (chest out, speak clearly and forcefully, smile, eye contact), but you must also watch hers. She will show you if she’s into you by coming close to you, smiling back, mirroring your actions, and really reactive to your moves. More experience with women will yield this understanding on when she likes something and when she doesn’t.
Avoid Online Dating
Many men will instantly go for the online route because it’s easy and doesn’t require a lot of heavy lifting. But, remember this fact, online dating, for the majority of people, is a raging dumpster fire. Damaged, hurt people on there looking to get their kicks without even working on themselves. It’s the trash bin of dating and shouldn’t be used.
You are the prize
We’ve seen hundreds of guys in the sphere talk about it, but it really is true. When it all boils down to it, you can’t move forward in your life until you realize that your presence sets the tone. You are the focal point of your life with special emphasis on choosing the correct person to share it with. You have an obligation to choose what you feel is best for your life. Selfish? Sure. Required? Absolutely.
You have to have some semblance of style
You have to put forth effort in your wardrobe. Like every other part of your life, you have to dress for success and wearing old, crappy clothes as a part of your wardrobe doesn’t help you get anywhere but where you are.
They do. You have to look your best. You have to brush your damn teeth, shower, manscape, and take care of yourself. Women will appreciate it and you’ll appreciate yourself more. The most important aspect of confidence is putting up the goods when it comes time to.
Social skills (game) trump all other things
You have to learn solid, lifelong social skills with men to make friends and with women to have sex/relationships. This not only ups your networking, and career success, but you become more comfortable with people and can do more things in your life. Your height, money, or disposition don’t mean anything if you can’t get out there and operate among others.
Thirst is not your friend
Men allow their sexual appetites to get the best of them. The little man drives the big man and it can result in disastrous, life altering issues that will affect the man for the rest of his life. When a man learns to not only control his urges, dropping porn, upping his game, using condoms regularly, he protects himself from these possibilities. He also has an amazing amount of self respect to protect himself from these issues. The world’s not going to change, so the man must operate as if he’s in complete control of everything he can control, including his thirst.
Look, men want to have sex with women. It’s in our blood. But you can protect yourself and choose where you stick your dingus. Be smart about who you sleep with, we don’t need anymore single moms.
The Secret of Women
So what are the secrets of women?
What have I learned that I didn’t know before?
Learn to operate on a sexual level
Men and women are sexual beings, bottom line. If you don’t ask for the business and show your intentions to her, it doesn’t matter. I always thought it was wrong to tell a woman you wanted to have sex with her.
When you ACT like a man in front of a woman, she absolutely wants that. She wants you to take her, she wants you to be forward and confident.
Women don’t like begging, sniveling, men who have to ask permission for everything. They want you to lead.
Women are emotional
Emotions are a woman’s realm. When you appeal to her with a vivid imagination and unreal confidence, she absolutely loves it. She needs to feel, whereas men need to use logic and solve problems. When you treat her like a man (i.e. try to solve her problems), she’ll resent you. She doesn’t want you to solve her problems, she wants you to reflect her and feel her emotions with her. Being present, more than anything else, helps her to work through any emotions that she has. And when she sees you’re a rock to her, she can trust that you will listen to her while working to understand her.
Women are pragmatic, men are romantic
Women, when it comes down to it, are pragmatic. If they see that things aren’t going to end well, they will jump ship to make their way to another option. If you die, they’ll move on. If you sink, they’ll swim elsewhere. They see the writing on the wall in their commitment, they will make sure to find the door. ‘Til death do us part only applies if the man is showing promise, and yes, even if he’s at rock bottom, she can tell if he’s a high quality dude.
Women want security and to know they’ll be protected
Men do just these things. If you fall asleep at the wheel, do be surprised if she finds another man’s car or jumps out of yours. You HAVE to provide the rock she ties herself to. You run the show, she knows that you do. If you falter in any aspect of your masculine duties, she’ll know, and her respect for you will dwindle. She’s hooked her anchor to you so you’d better be ready to perform for her and make sure she and your tribe stay safe.
She wants your pleasure
Men think they have to pull out all the stops to pleasure her in bed. You don’t. She gets off on your pleasure. She wants to see you orgasm and wants to please you. That’s the biggest thing standing between guys and their happiness in sex. You need to get yours and she’ll get hers too. You can’t neglect yourself in the quest to make her happy because she start to resent you.
Be proactive instead of reactive
Women want a man with a plan, regardless of what happens. When the shit hits, she wants to know that the issues are handled. If they aren’t and she has to be involved, it takes away from your lead. You can’t be desperate, consistently show emotions that are detrimental to her respect for you, and argue with her. She doesn’t want to argue with you to win the fight, she wants to argue with you to show her you care.
I’ve learned a ton about these subjects, but I still have more to digest. But today, nearly 21 years after my entrance into the world of dating and women, I finally have some direction and some competency with women.
The one thing that has permeated all of this new found confidence is the fact that not only do I take responsibility for my life, but I push my life in new directions because of how I interact with women. My give a damn is broken when it comes to women and if they are truly going to be in my life, they have to make the effort. Before, I thought I had to do everything to make sure that they’d like me. Being a people pleaser brings you dry panties every day.
I hope to continue to help men realize what I have in my life. They need to take control and drive their lives. It’s helpful to have these quick tips to get a man in the direction he needs to head.
One thing I’ve always said is that if I hadn’t taken action in my life, I’d imagine I’d still be in a loveless marriage, celebrating 15 years of little sex, motionless and lifeless stability, and lack of a direction. I didn’t want a life like that, I wanted a life on my terms, and many men are starting to awaken to the fact that they want that same thing too.
But in search of that, you have to be willing to be uncompromising on certain principles in your life. You have to be willing to walk.
But you must also be willing to stand a post. You are never done. You sleep when you’re dead, and many men don’t want to accept that harsh truth.
It’s time to understand these realizations and spread the word to other men lost in the world. They need to know these things, and my job is to make sure they do until my last breath.
One of my favorite bands is Breaking Benjamin. I discovered them in 2005 after a sales symposium I went to and a colleague from Pennsylvania mentioned his close to home town band had hit it big with primal screams, towering riffs, and ice-cold lyrics.
And as I grew fonder of them, one of their songs, with probably nothing to do with the subject, hit home as an anthem for the forever plugged in male attitude that I’d experienced for the vast majority of my current adult life.
“The Diary of Jane”, which officially has something to do with a movie star from the ’40s, I think, had lyrics that screamed through my head as the forever hopeful beta man who’d prayed, pined, and yes, even wept over that “perfect” girl for him, the girl that he loved that didn’t love him. The lyrics tell the tale…
“If I had to I would put myself right beside you So let me ask you, Would ya like that? Would ya like that? And I don’t mind If you say This love is the last time So now I’ll ask, Do ya like that? Do ya like that?
Something’s getting in the way Something’s just about to break I will try to find my place In the diary of Jane So, tell me How it should be?
Try to find out What makes you tick As I lie down Sore and sick Do ya like that, Do ya like that? There’s a fine line Between love and hate And I don’t mind Just let me say, That I like that, I like that
Something’s getting in the way Something’s just about to break I will try to find my place In the diary of Jane As I burn another page As I look the other way I still try to find my place In the diary of Jane So tell me How it should be?
Desperate I will crawl Waiting for so long No love, there’s no love Die for anyone What have I become?
Something’s getting in the way Something’s just about to break I will try to find my place In the diary of Jane As I burn another page As I look the other way I still try to find my place In the diary of Jane”
Such was my lot in life throughout my 20’s and briefly after my divorce before I truly became knowledgeable about the ways of things.
As with most times in the lives of our current modern men who are lost, I call the 10 years between 18 and 27 of my life the “lost decade” simply because I felt I squandered my youth on the fruitless pursuit of true love, passing on from one female crush to the next, desperately hoping that this girl would love me. I didn’t have sex, I kissed four women, I rarely dated, hung with friends, played a shit ton of video games, and generally went from woman to woman like some damn episode of Quantum Leap, hoping that my next crush would be the one that set me free, that this love would be “the one”.
Pathetic? Sure. But when you see that many men are taking this path these days, it’s becoming more problematic seeing men, young men, believe the lies that I believed, and be balls deep in the fiction. My lost decade involved crushes on 5 girls, each who came into my life on more than one occasion, and each time, I was convinced fate, more than anything else, would show them that I was the guy for them.
But fate, or as I now prefer it, “rationalizing dust” is a losing and sometimes deadly game for men.
Fate, hope, and destiny are banners for the weak. I firmly believed, at my young age, that I only had partial control of my life, and these three magic words above were truly in control. So I lived my life on these as fuel. If I truly wanted, yearned, and pined enough for a girl, that she would be mine. I would use any sign, any small gesture, even her talking to me, as a rationalization that “this is why we’ll be together, this is fate taking the wheel.”
But the harshest truths are the ones that we refuse to accept, simply because it goes against all we think we stand for, all that we were told we believe. And we as men don’t want to believe such things, because not only does the truth not spare our feelings, it kicks the living shit out of us and then makes us get up for more. We want the feel-good story. We root for the underdog. But as you know if you’ve done any gambling, the underdog seldom wins. And consistently playing that role as a man looking for a woman will yield terrible results, not because of fate, destiny, or magic fucking words, but because of brutal, cold, real, reality.
Call it a pill. Call it whatever you want, but it’s the hardest, most real, most unfortunate truths about women that I didn’t, nay, refused to recognize in my gumdrop, lollipop, unicorn world of hopes and dreams. And these truths are what make or break men in their dealings with the opposite sex.
Fate is fantasy. It’s the belief that something will happen, and when fleshed against the rigidness of reality, it buckles like a belt.
The girls that I fell in love with never cared for me. In fact, more often than not, I was a nuisance to them. And, as the lyrics above opine, most, if not all of the time, I didn’t even register in their psyche. No pages in their diaries for me. None. Zip. Zilch.
Years of my life were wasted on girls who didn’t give two shits about me and never would. I should’ve done more, been more, worked on myself more. Regret is a bitch, and you can’t get those years back. “Die for anyone, What have I become?”
Women who did like me weren’t the ones I wanted. And the ones I wanted would never return the affections in the way I wanted.
Romance isn’t dead, it’s just misplaced and misused by men desperate to prove something to women who don’t care if he proves anything or not.
There are always other dudes. And until you can prove you have better value than the majority, there will always be other dudes. Pragmatism trumps idealism every damn time.
Nothing you “do” will make her like you. She’ll find an attraction to you in how much you invest in yourself
Women are emotional creatures. That doesn’t make them bad, in fact, it makes them the exact opposite, but you have to know what to expect, how to deal with them, and their chaotic and unpredictable patterns that seldom side with logic. Men and women really are different, but that’s a good thing.
Hating women for being women is misogynistic. You believe that they are operating in bad faith. And while some of them truly are, many of them don’t realize they are, nor do they care to understand if they do. Hate the game, not the player. Societal advantages for women have been around for eons and will continue because they outnumber men on this planet. Majority rules. We can still rail against these disadvantages men face, but it won’t change the big picture.
With these truths in tow, many men need to move forward to their new lives under these truths.
But many men just can’t. Hence the title of this post.
The Six D’s of a Man’s Life Realization
I was there. I didn’t want to believe any of this. I still fought every day to believe the fairy tale, but it didn’t matter. The plug was pulled and I was out there floating. Many men will just float for decades, hoping to find that the dream really was true, many others will just continue to live their lives as if they weren’t aware and be disappointed. Still more will try to rationalize the irrational, stretching their beliefs into taffy to justify the behavior of others. And unfortunately, many won’t either unplug fully or those that do end their lives because they can’t believe that they were so wrong.
They feel they’ve wasted their lives on a narrative that wasn’t true, not even close, and rather than accept the hard work needed to pick back up, they won’t. They let go.
However, I, among many other men in this sphere that have all unplugged (yes, they all have), are living proof that there is life after death. The old you dies with all of the false knowledge you had and the new you arises equipped to deal with this new reality. It’s harsh but one thing that I can say is that you can be stronger. You can survive this new environment with renewed hope because the hope now comes not from outside forces, but from within yourself.
Self-empowerment and improvement is a cornerstone of this new reality. Faith is put into yourself which makes you more able to survive and thrive.
Here’s the six D’s I used: Denial, Disappointment, Despondency, Discovery, Drive, Domination
My message is simple. It’s never too late for you. I don’t care if you’re 20 or 80. You take responsibility for your life, your beliefs, and your knowledge at the age you do and you then grow with it. The bitter pill isn’t bitter, it’s only bitter for those that refuse to understand that the bitterness is a phase on your journey and it too will pass.
I want to show men that even after the harsh truths above, the six D’s that they go through in this process. I’m writing about this very issue in my book. The seventh D, divorce, is in some men’s lives as well as a phase of discovery.
This isn’t self-help as much as it is self-information. Men need to be aware of all of this crap because I sure as hell wasn’t and I can tell you my father nor my grandfather was either. And with masculinity under attack, the numbers of single mother households growing and the daily messages I get from men struggling, it’s only going to get worse before we can stem the tide.
We’ve lost too many good men to their own weaknesses. We can’t lose any more. The message needs to get out and it needs to get out in a big way.
Women aren’t your problem. You are. Your pining over women is wasting your resources. You’ve forfeited your life direction for a fiction. Something that you can’t control. But you can control this. You can control what you do.
That’s why I’m here. That’s why I do what I do.
It will never change the fact that there will always be men that need help getting out of this morass they are currently stuck in because of society telling them what’s best for them rather than looking inside themselves. Weak men will always be a battle that needs fighting. But the real fight is getting this information to these men without it being attacked as being anti-female or misogynistic. It isn’t and never was. Male empowerment isn’t taking anything away from women, it’s sharpening the roles of each sex and playing to strengths that have been around for thousands of years and aren’t going to go away because of “feelings”.
So stop pining over a woman, deriding your despair into victimhood, and trying to justify the lies that have been told to you. Get out of your own head and get your ass to work. You’ll thank me when you get to the other side and see how fucking awesome it is.
Open your eyes and live. Your best years are ahead of you.
At 43 and single, I’m finding many of the dates I’m having with women in their 30’s and 40’s are with women who are single mothers. This was going to be inevitable as I am trying to date as many different women as I can all while getting to know who I am, what I like, gaining experience in dating all types of women.
So it goes without saying that dating single mothers is extremely complicated. Many women are not choosing to be single mothers on purpose, so you have to be aware that there are major reasons why they are single. From reasons like a boring marriage or lack of sex to more serious issues such as spousal abuse, drug addiction, or adultery, these women have been through some serious stuff and for many, it has scarred them for a very long time, if not for life.
Many of those women have major trust issues, lack of sexual appetite due to major abuse or trauma, and are embittered by their exes’ lack of commitment to them in their time of need. Plus, on top of this, you have a society that empowers single mothers to be victims all while shaming and berating men who had nothing to do with the situation. Add in the State as a third party to the marriage and you have the makings of a giant dumpster fire.
There’s a huge stigma in the manosphere about single mothers and with very good reason. Many of them are damaged, bitter, and just plain unpleasant. There are men like Rich Cooper and others that are leading the charge against single mothers as damaged, not worth your time, and swearing off on them altogether. And with all the terrible examples out there of women who have taken their situations out on everyone else but themselves, it stands to reason that some of those assumptions that Rich makes are correct. He’s right about many single mothers who become almost militant feminists in a crusade against men. He’s right about the sense of entitlement in single motherhood and I’ve seen it first hand in the dating world. There is a noticeable amount of women who act this way, and Rich is correct to warn men about them. They aren’t looking for a complete relationship with another man. They’re looking for a meal ticket, a support check, or are ready to manipulate an unsuspecting man who is looking for sex and letting thirst drive his needs.
While my endorsement of Rich will no doubt get me some blowback from the other side of the manosphere, I will tell you that while I agree with him on many things about single mothers, it’s a bit more complicated, especially as a man who’s currently in the dating pool full tilt and is seeing these things every day. What am I saying?
I’m saying it’s not all cut and dry, black and white, solid 100%. There are many types of single mothers out there and while many are absolutely monstrous, I can attest that there are just as many that are wonderful people. So what’s the difference? The difference is the amount of responsibility they take for their lives. Let me explain.
I put these women into 4 camps. Camp 1 is the worst of the worst. Feminists, militants, anti-men who blame everything else on their lots in life. These are the moms who get triggered by doing anything remotely having to do with pleasing a man, instead blaming all men for their ex’s terrible behavior. Camp 2 is women who are less militant but still have a very clear bias towards men and especially their exes, blaming them for all the unfortunate things that have happened to them, but not all the way to man hatey status. Camp 3 are women who have softened and are accepting the fact that they can’t continue to blame men and their exes for issues. They have taken a certain amount of responsibility for the directions of their lives and are trying to get out of the tailspin that the lack of blame for themselves had put them in. And finally, Camp 4 is the reformed, feminine single mom. She’s not making excuses, pulled up her big girl pants, and has completed herself in a flourishing manner. She also won’t put any blame on anyone anymore, and also won’t deal with weak-minded men either.
The type of men that these women will search for is inversely proportional to which camp they belong to. In short, weaker men (betas) tend to gravitate towards the 1st and 2nd camps, where the 3rd and 4th get more mature, masculine men. Also, time is a huge factor in moving from 1st to 4th camps. Generally, the longer the time span from her being “wronged”, the more accepting she is of her circumstances and her faults in that choice.
Also, to no one’s surprise, women in the first two camps are usually more liberal than the last two. Camps 3 and 4 are learning more about personal responsibility and have let time hone them a bit, so they tend to be more feminine and conservative.
Camps 1 and 2 tend to look for weaker men to support them and their feminist crusade against the bad men that hurt them.
Camps 3 and 4 tend to look at themselves as independent and don’t blame. They look for men who are complete as they complete themselves.
Why do they go to these camps?
Many of these women married their alphas who rang their bell knowing that they were trying to change him. When they knew they couldn’t change him, they suffered through while enabling him for the sake of the kids or the marriage. They suffered through abuse, cheating, or worse.
Many women who are single mothers have endured emotional or physical trauma for this choice. But something kept them in the relationship. Maybe hypergamy, maybe sex, maybe duty, maybe something. But it’s kept them there too long and they struggle with why they couldn’t make him the way they wanted him because they were so hot for him.
Now, they are looking for a man for a meal ticket, a father to raise kids that aren’t his, or worse, both. I don’t recommend any man signing up for this if the woman EXPECTS him to help her raise the kids or provide money for her and this family.
They also feel like they have to blame other things besides themselves in order to overcome this hiccup. They overcompensate with being born again virgins, becoming radicalized feminists, focusing on their careers, or trying to wed a beta guy to try and show that their choice wasn’t the issue, it was the man and only the man. No amount of voodoo or choice is going to change the fact that she did indeed make that decision to sleep with, marry, have kids with, and enable the man she now blames for her lot in life.
The bottom line is owning a choice. Many single mothers refuse to believe that they had anything to do with the life they chose, that that life was thrust upon them as they were just in love and trying to make it work. It follows on the feminist line that women are infallible, incapable of bad things, and can’t be held responsible for their actions, which is horse shit.
It stems from a liberal, victimhood mentality that permeates the single mothers of our Western society. But I’m here to tell you, it doesn’t permeate them all. It doesn’t. There are good ones out there. I will explain.
NAMALT (Not All Moms Are Like That)
Where I split with some of the manosphere regulars is what I’ve found in the dating world. There are moms out there, good, hard-working moms, who are complete and wonderful. In my limited 3 years experience, I’ve found the rule more than the exception obviously, but I will say that I have gotten into relationships with good women who really were “wrong place, wrong time” types of women. They were dedicated, feminine, and supportive. They took responsibility for their lives. They didn’t let their single mom status divert them from trying to be successful. Many of them are conservative-minded and very family-oriented, yet also independent in accepting and overcoming their disadvantages. They have a man to raise their kids, their dad, or if they don’t, they aren’t relying on a man to raise them. They raise them on their own and don’t expect you to jump in and help, or worse, rely on you as a meal ticket.
While any “red pill cred” I had left with the manosphere may diminish by me saying that NAMALT, it’s something that I’ve actually witnessed in the trenches of dating. And as much as I agree with parts of the red pill argument, I still have to report what I see, honestly and upfront.
While we see some of the worse offenders through Rich Cooper, Rollo and others, we don’t see the success stories that I see, so that’s why I write this blog today.
So, gents, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to date single mothers, don’t. I’m not telling you to do it anyway. You have every right to live your life and date who you want. But I’m telling you that through my dating experiences, there are good ones out there, feminine, man-loving, good-hearted, supportive, beautiful mothers out there.
Hopefully, with this blog post, I can both assure men and also make them aware of the good, bad and ugly of the single mom world. Because there are ton of the last two with our society standing by as a willing accomplice.
But trust your gut and know that the good ones are out there. They are worth it.
So, you’ve decided to go to a new church. You’ve heard great things about it. Your friends are raving about the spiritual content, the great speakers, the fantastic music, and the real down home community feel.
It’s a startup church, just working on building it’s flock. How are they going to persuade you to come to their church? They don’t have the main church built yet, so they’re having to use a school auditorium for Sunday service, but the people are great, and they really focus on positive aspects of the religion they believe in. But they have other great aspects that they showcase. A great priest and message, good music, a welcoming environment, and other bonuses make this church one of the best up and coming places to worship.
So why go? You’re curious. You want to see more. You want to explore and know why and how they praise their God. You want to see if you have things in common with the congregation. You want to feel comfortable with as much as you can before you commit. You won’t give money to an organization you don’t trust. So you try to do as much homework as you can to make sure you make the right choice.
So with this in mind, think about sales in general. How is this church going to continue to exist? With money. With donations. With a flock. They have to get butts in the pews or they’ll fold. So they have to give you options and attractive things to want to donate to. This isn’t manipulation, it’s the church knowing human nature and how to sell. If they do well, they’ll survive and thrive. If they don’t, it’s closing the doors.
When a life coach sells you on a positive mind set training book, or a psychic sells you on being able to talk to spirits, or Taco Bell sells you on a taco shell made out of a Dorito, you are being presented with a choice to partake in said activity for money, or not. You can easily walk out and go somewhere else. But at that moment, you have a choice. Now, many of these sales people will try to sweeten the deal by studying how humans generally react to certain sales tactics, or they’ll practice other tricks of the trade to try to close the sale. And many will fail, but some do better than others. Why?
Simple. They’ve studied human nature. Advertisers spent decades not only perfecting their product, but also making you want it. Not because they’re manipulating you, but because they just play the game better than others do. They know the rules and they push every avenue to win over their client base from the competition.
This isn’t using cheat codes, this is just someone who’s practiced, understands reactions, and knows how to sell his product. You just have to be smart enough to see through the bullshit.
Lately, there has been a misnomer to game and PUA (pick up artistry) that it’s manipulation, pure and simple. However, it isn’t. It never has been.
“Coffee’s For Closers”
Pickup / Game started when a bunch of dorks, geeks, nerds, and sexually irrelevant men decided that hypergamy and female sexual empowerment wasn’t going to leave them out in the cold. They wanted sex with hot girls (as most men want) and they weren’t going to let their limitations hold them back. So they studied. And they practiced. And they used canned lines to elicit emotional reactions from females. They were shot down, but more and more, as they got better at their craft. They learned about human nature, learned about advertising their strengths and masking their weaknesses. They got so good they would go to great lengths to sell themselves. Mystery, quite possibly the greatest PUA of all time, used to dress in high platform heels, black everything, black top hat, black fingernail polish. No woman in a million years would go to bed with him, right?
Wrong. He made the case that PUA is sales, pure and simple. Many women bought and bought often. Many did not. But one thing’s for sure, women who slept with him didn’t have buyer’s remorse. They WANTED to sleep with him, they wanted what he was selling, and they lined up for it. They were unapologetic about it, even going so far as to share him with other women. Why? He was selling a good product.
In my excellent article “The Sexual Arms Race“, I talk about what men had to do to respond to female sexual empowerment and hypergamy being let off the leash in the 60’s and 70′. They had to adapt. There were many men who were going to be left out in the cold when it came to having sex with beautiful women, so (and some PUA’s from back then should today be considered autistic) nerds, dweebs and geeks analytically attacked a problem and studied it. And the sale they came up with was better than guys who had been naturally better with women by a country mile. They tapped into human nature and studied, practiced getting shot down but building their confidence, and at the pinnacle of their success, would snatch girls away from men who were considered higher value or even celebrity.
Did these men plant key phrases in these women to get them to do things? Did they hypnotize them and make them go against their will? Did they trick them into sleeping with them?
Hardly. They merely practiced and learned to play the game better than their competition. And women were buying. Many women.
Making The Sale
“What differentiates sellers today is their ability to bring fresh ideas.” -Jill Konrath
Back in the early parts of this century, PUA was gaining a foothold because guys were trying sales tactics that no one had ever thought of trying. Sales, in all of it’s intricacies, is at it’s heart about persistence. You have to keep getting up and going out there, believing in you, your product, and your company. You’re not going to reach anyone if you don’t get in front of them.
This is the absolute heart and soul of game and PUA teaching. The whole idea of canned lines, routines, and other tactics was to get you in front of women, get you confident in yourself in those women, and get you confident in the product that was you. That’s it. It wasn’t some elaborate scheme to trick someone into sleeping with you, nor was it a pyramid scheme to steal anything from anyone.
It was just a bunch of guys wanted to get laid by pretty girls.
They made the sale in their own ways. Mystery and Style (Neil Strauss) used pea-cocking. Ross Jefferies used speed seduction. Tyler Durden and the gang used Real Social Dynamics. The bottom line of all of these? A way of selling a product. That product is you. And some women don’t buy, and some women do. The point? They buy because there’s a demand for the product, not because the product hypnotizes them into doing something they don’t want to do.
Sales becomes manipulation when the outcome isn’t what the buyer wanted or expected.
There’s an old saying in my industry that “you can’t buy a steak from McDonald’s”. If you know what you’re buying, you can’t be upset when the product isn’t as good as you thought. As with everything, you as the buyer need to research your purchases, not get mad when the product doesn’t live up to unreal expectations that you had.
When women call PUA or game, manipulation, they are essentially participating in buyer’s remorse. They were sold a product that didn’t live up to it’s billing, so they claim they were coerced into buying in. That way, they can’t be blamed for making a bad choice, and they can demonize a group of guys who simply wanted to have sex with hot girls by trying to sell themselves. The women will claim a “mystical, back door, shady” approach is what sold them, when they could’ve easily walked away and taken their “money” somewhere else.
We are seeing a society today that holds businesses to an unbelievable standard. They want service quick, food hot, and an amazing experience, or they’ll be on Yelp! quicker than you can say “bad customer review.”
Businesses are adapting but we quickly blame others for our own failures and shortcomings in actually researching what we buy. And when we get burned? We bad mouth the establishment and make it their problem. Same principle applies to dating, game and pick up.
Women realize they’ve been sold something they shouldn’t have bought, so they claim poor product, rather than taking the time to understand why they bought this. They state they were clearly “tricked”, “manipulated”, or other reasons because they wouldn’t be caught dead having sex with this “loser”. “I’m better than this,” she says to herself. She’s been manipulated by a dork. But what she doesn’t understand is that she made that choice to sleep with him.
So, remember this ladies. No one is manipulating you. No one is tricking you into sleeping with them. You have free will to walk away and not buy, and many of your colleagues do this every day to guys coming up to them. So why are you different? You aren’t.
If a product, slogan, or advertisement controls your free will and choice, perhaps you need to not be as pliable to those techniques and be more mindful of your personal choices and wants.
Stop having buyer’s remorse and blaming the PUA and game community for “manipulating” you when they are only selling a product. Take responsibility for your own actions and you will be certain the next product you “buy” will be one you actually like.