Every man will experience his own “Benedict Arnold” moment. While it might not take place in a revolutionary war to determine the fate of nation being born, it will still leave a blackened stained touch in your memory.
What motivates betrayal? Often it’s money, greed, jealousy, and the desire to attain power. To do that you have to step on people to move up the ladder of power. Certainly, I was stepped on like a scared housewife stomps on an ugly bug while squeaking out a brief, “Eeek!!!!”
My own betrayal moment caught me off guard. None of the above seemed like the motivator for the betrayal. What could the reason have been? It felt as cold, sharp, and damaging as an Ozark ice storm. Even now, the though of “WTF, why?” keeps running through my mind. Often, I prefer for my dirty laundry to stay in the bin, but in this case I will have to reveal my boxers.
I’m a blabber, a conversationalist, and an open book. Some people love this about me, others loathe it, but few have ever managed to use it against me in a way that cuts deep.
Thing is, I don’t know how much was deliberate and honest-to-god opining on me and how much was cruel intentioned barbs designed to hurt my relationship with my in-laws and my wife. Timing was absolutely horrible as I’m just starting to build a better relationship with my in-laws who weren’t huge on me.
My old boss who I was my absolute unfiltered self around, a man I thought I could trust and actually have “real-talk” with, and someone who I respected – even though he let me go, delivered whatever his own brand of personal vengeance was against me managed to tell the “truth” about me in the worst possible ways.
No grudges did I hold against him when he let me go, in fact I even kept in good contact with him. However, he indeed held grudges against me which I was unaware of until he told my in-laws about them instead of myself.
Normally, this would be a landmine that would be overcome after one detonation, but he will be in a “life” group with my in-laws for the foreseeable future. Essentially, I will have someone who can’t be trusted in an environment where trust is supposed to be of the essence. Circle of trust indeed.
I’m used to detractors that I barely know, online critics, and people whose personalities clash with my own and they can all get bent. Nothing is what I expect from them. This though felt like I had been cheated on – which I haven’t, it was just that I trusted him that much. It hurts.
Imagine someone misrepresents your character as much as possible and, sprinkles in a few lies to really get the pot stirred, and plants all sorts of possibilities in your pregnant wife’s head who already is going through raging pregnancy hormones and trust issues from her past.
In this case, her parents were the recipients of Benedict Arnold and the details were passed to her and then she passed them to me. Chain of information indeed. My wife wasn’t supposed to be told, and neither was I.
Perhaps my old boss thought what he was saying was true, or my in-laws drew some exaggerated conclusions that were then passed to my wife. That would be a comforting thought. Honestly, I thought he would always be honest with any grievances against myself and come talk to me about it.
I actually thought that I was with someone who I didn’t have to filter myself and everything from “locker-room talk” to how men actually talk on the job site when you work in the trades. This is what bugs me so much. That connection I thought I had with someone wasn’t actually there – maybe I forced myself into believing it was, considering I was earnestly looking for a fellow man I could trust in an area where I don’t know anyone.
The Sword Thrusts of Betrayal
Likely it is not the case. Two lies in particular left me shocked. (1) That he paid me 20$ and hour when he paid me 13$. (2) That me and the other guy he had hired were going out after we were dropped off from work to the bar and blowing money. Odd, considering me and this other guy didn’t like each other.
The truth that was manipulated against me in fascinating way too. Apparently one such truth was how I constantly wanted to go out after work with my boss to the bar and grab a drink.
Absolutely, this was true. I wanted to bond with my boss as I believed he was someone I could be my genuine self-around. One of the best ways you can do this is to indeed grab a drink and sit down.
In his defense however, he could never really do this as he was trying to be back at home by 6 to be with his family. I can understand this and perhaps he believes me to be some kind of deviant who would rather be out drinking then helping out his pregnant wife at home – or at least that how it sounded when I was told about it.
Another “truth” was about how I misled him about my skillset, even though I told him what I knew from the start. Now both me and him were hoping I’d absorb some skills faster, but I alas I did not. Still, he felt like I lied to him, so my guess is he is doing the same back to me.
One that really got to me was about how I was lazy. When he first hired me, he was desperate for people just to show up who were trustworthy. He complained about how people would flake constantly – which they did. I arranged for him to pick me up in the mornings – which took a toll on him timewise nonetheless – to go the jobsite with him 40+ miles away.
When I was there, I worked in 90+ degree humidity outside on scaffolding. Now he was generous and bought me and our co-worker lunch everyday as well as provided us with water to keep us hydrated. To be sure he wasn’t a slave driver, and he shouldn’t sound like such.
At several points I did complain about a lack of boards to stand on when we started going four stories up. I brought up the idea of safety-harnesses, but he mentioned that it would just get in the way and make us even less safe.
I have no idea if that’s really true or not, but wow right? Also note that he went up there with us in those precarious positions trying to get work done, so definitely he put himself on the line as well.
Now, I’m not exaggerating how open I was with him. I even talked about me and my wife’s sex lives – a mistake in hindsight – and how it helped us as a couple. This was kindly relayed to her parents that all I cared about is sex and apparently how I’m not to be trusted. In particular, this blew me away.
Wisdom, Resolve, and the Long-Game
A hard lesson to learn from betrayal is that your natural state – open and honest – can be very dangerous to you and your family life. Even after this, I find the idea of talking less, being more deliberate about the company I am genuine with, and concluding that many more snakes exist in the grass then I admit to be a tough pill to swallow.
Recently, I saw him at my in-laws “Life group” meeting they hold at their house. Determined for my wife’s sake, I played nice. It was then that I heard a story involving my old bosses’ wife and some terrible things they had been through.
Wondering whether this had something to do with the backstab held my anger in check. Because of that, I’m taking the long view. Honestly, I still desire vengeance or at least some kind of vindication from this betrayal. You never realize how powerful of a motivator justice can be until you start to strongly desire it.
Given the chance I wonder, would he come clean and apologize to me or pretend it didn’t happen and act as everything was jolly?
What if the chain-of-information provided to me was wrong or someone did indeed exaggerate and elaborate details? Patience is necessary when trying to smoke out what was really said. I shall indeed play the long-game.
Take A Break Or This Broken World Will Drive You Crazy
For the last two months prior to election day, Drudge was linking to various articles about how people were suffering from election induced anxiety, depression, and even sleep loss. Facebook feeds were particularly active and potent regardless of what political bubble you are dwell in.
We all expected the end of the world before night, and it’s only gotten worse post-election for half of the voting public to cope with the election of Cthulu. Detractors of Trump literally believe he’s Hitler, but then again, so is anyone to the right of Hillary. The sky is literally falling and raining pepes.
My Facebook and Twitter blared with insane headlines that even often I thought were too exaggerated to be true. Everything was apocalyptic in nature and possible destruction of our grand modern multi-cultural tolerant world, even though Rome didn’t fall in a day.
Post-election, all of the scoundrels and deplorables favorable to “God-Emperor Trump” were faced with families endearing new crises that unfortunately had nothing to do with drug addled interventions, sibling disputes, and crumbling marriages. Call me ole fashioned, but I’m still shocked that people are avoiding family members because of their despicable politics. Clearly, those politicians will always be there for you, but your family won’t.
To put in perspective how bad the shattering has been just between husbands and wives, the annoying chat-box known as “The View” had a segment in which voting husbands for Trump was causing them to lose their pussy tingles for their studly husbands. Yes, apparently a difference in how you voted was causing the dreaded “deadbedroom” threads we read about. Hammer that nail of sexual intimacy once more to the coffin.
“I think that the sex drive does die and, you know, we are building a wall around our vaginas,” she continued. “The guy [Trump] says it’s okay if he would grab a woman by her you-know-what, and women are either a 10 or a one, or this one’s fat, and you voted for that schmuck?”
“You voted for that? I’m not sleeping with you,” Behar said.
“That’s what’s happening,” Sunny Hostin agreed.
Yep, you read that right. Some people have “marriages” that are truly that dysfunctional and the sex tips in Glamour aren’t possible now. I don’t think adultery/cheating is a good thing, but if your wife, girlfriend, etc. pulled that – using sex as a weapon –I’d immediately hand her divorce papers and start hitting up Tinder as the one night sluts on there will at least give you sex unlike these shrews.
I can’t slap the woman who said that physically, but I most certainly will air slap her from across the deplorable manosphere caverns from which I lurk. Here’s a bold statement though for women – or men – who refuse you sex because of your vote; She doesn’t deserve you, your money, or your capability to be an emotional tampon when she’s crying.
What she so richly does deserve; cats, gawking at other women more attractive then here, and bitching about male feminists hitting on her that she isn’t attracted to. A bit overboard? I’m that sick and tired of it.
But to get back on track, its all too damn much – and that’s just regarding two of the stories that stood out to me the most after being bombarded with one piece of insanity ranging from true to greatly exaggerated after the other. Every story I come across is in all caps, screaming with a bullhorn for my attention – and they all make the world seem like its getting worse after I glance at the headlines.
Surely, I like the rest of you am taking crazy pills, or the world, society, and the culture around us is surely doomed and primed to implode – on a daily basis. Even in our own circles, everything is almost always pessimistic. Feminists are getting more power, safe spaces are smothering meaningful conversation, and we are constantly having to explain to shocked observers, friends, and families that we aren’t actually all those bad ist and isms they keep hearing we are – this is all despite Trumps win which is supposed to greatly move the Overton window…
I’ve noticed how the subject of “Facts” has become extremely subjective. I still don’t know exactly how much Planned Parenthood spends on abortion via Federal Funding because every inquiry on it uses different methods to calculate the statistics. In a world of unlimited data, we can’t see past a hazy cloud of numbers on all sides.
Reliable sources all depend on what side you are on.
Vicious opinionated partial journalism isn’t contrary to the very nature of being a journalist because Trump is the new Hitler. Woodward is jaded and Bernstein is weeping. The very journalists and publications shrieking about fake news are spouting it nonstop with nary a noticeable correction in mind because the damage has been done.
Fake news is now completely up to shadowy corporate internet giants that are deliberately as vague as possible as to how much of your information they are sharing with the government without warrant – and that’s if they haven’t been hit with a gag order preventing them from even talking about it.
What the hell can we actually do about any of this?
Ragequit life? Not quite. Take a brief glance back in history for why you need a respite from the toils of cultural and political dogfighting. As Quintus Curtius – the resident scholar, historian and philosopher of the manosphere points out, sometimes all you need is a retreat to allow you to come back with new ideas for the battlefield.
“Sometimes being away from the fray and the fracases of life can allow us to compose our thoughts and regenerate our spirits. This has the effect of spurring the creative soul on to higher amplitudes of output. We forget just how distracting it is for the mind to be bombarded with invasive stimuli; and while periods of withdrawal from the fray should not be permanent, they can, in the right doses, provide just that right proportion of flint and steel to spark great works.”
Believe it or not, wisdom from the life of Machiavelli can be applied to this situation when he was forced to take a break from the politics of the day. That lesson can be examined at the link previously mentioned.
Besides plan, scheme, and demand answers; nothing in the immediate sense. Which of course represents a knee jerk reaction of feeling like you’ve accomplished no results because everything is measured in the short term – how we feel right now – instead of any kind of long term vision.
Let’s dip our heads into the sand for the moment. Take a step back. We know what’s going on – we just aren’t going to let it break us. Instead we will make love to our women, play with our kids, drink and be merry with our friends, and take those nature hikes. Twitter can wait. A more disturbing and terrible story about the madness of our college campuses will be there tomorrow.
You will survive.
Just make sure you give yourself the breathing room and cultural /social media detox withdrawal to allow yourself to thrive when the world is refusing to budge your way. Take a break, and then come back for another at-bat.
This will be the first thanksgiving that I’ve spent away from my family. Here in Missouri, I will instead be spending it with my son and my wife’s parents and cousins who are here. During the last few months, I’ve been gutted by a feeling of being homesick. Today, it will probably hit the hardest.
Alas, this feeling however does give way to a realization; We never appreciate our family enough until they aren’t around. The atmosphere of my dad’s family staying up late into the night, kicking back some beers, the ambient noise of conversation – it’s something I’ve realized alot of other families don’t have. I’ve lived in Illinois my entire life, and while I hated the state with a passion, my family is what kept me there.
In modernity, we often leave our families and move to various parts of the country in search of economic freedom and success – in my families case the best opportunity is currently here in Missouri. Grandparents often barely know their grandchildren, nephews and nieces only see their aunts and uncles twice a year, and siblings often are stuck with only Facebook to establish that connection to bring back memories of home.
Sometimes I wonder if the fact we can go anywhere with a press of the gas pedal has inadvertently led us to paths that often don’t include the family structure, proximity, and support that existed for most up until the 1960s. Will we ever experience that again as a culture? I can only lament.
It takes a village to raise a child – especially for those who desire a big family. That’s almost impossible nowadays. Many millennials often move so much, that we never establish roots and become so close with our neighbors that they are like blood.
Some however survive the homesickness and overcome it. A while after originally posting this, I reached out to Quintus and suggested it as a podcast topic for him – which he actually just did – and a gentleman who goes by Motivated Maverick gave me some advice. Suffice to say, he’s been in the military for 14 years and has been away from his family for long stretches. He gave the following 9 points for consideration.
Build a routine. Even small things like your meals, a cup of coffee, a walk or a cigarette. Enjoy them.
Focus on the people around you. Make others smile & laugh. People around you probably feel homesick too.
Exercise. Exercise. Exercise. 3 hard miles will solve nearly all your mental problems.
Accept what’s happening; embrace it. Philosophy used to help men cope. Still does. Read Boethius.
Make a rule in your mind: YOU ARE NOT A VICTIM. YOU DO NOT FEEL SORRY FOR YOURSELF. This is important.
Make forced mental notes of everything new you see or experience to tell your friends about back home.
Keep a journal. This will help a lot..BUT NO VICTIM JOURNALS
Read good, uplifting books.
An engaging long term project is your best friend. A side business you’re working can make time fly.
Alas, but we press on. Perhaps some football tonight will get my mind off it. Happy thanksgiving to those of you I love, cherish, and know. Modernity does have it’s price I suppose.
To all those in my spheres, from RVF to Maverick – happy travels and I hope that while you make your life abroad, homesickness doesn’t bring you down. Deus Vult
Recently, my life has become like one of those sack races at a school party. My wife is in the sack with me – almost twice a day on average – and often we are trying to hop in different directions when it comes to our plans, ideas, and how we want to spend our time that day. Our marriage is yet young. As we seek to better communicate and understand the stubborn other, a new path in life opens.
As the experts hum repeatedly, much of marriage is all about communication. Usually, you don’t start off to well in that department. The specific verbal and non-verbal manner of that communication is a different skill all in itself – one that is often unpolished.
Through the communication we stumble through now, I’ve learned something important. Your priorities will shift so much in your life – especially with an infant that much of what you did and who you were before marriage wont be the same.
If you want to be that great family patriarch of old, most of your available time in a day must be spent nurturing your family – specifically your wife in the early years and your children. Just as anything substantial in life requires much time and investment, your family is no exception. (Infants are quite the time investment when they won’t fall asleep at night and continue to cry.)
I’m now building my legacy, but that is a time and life investment that will consume my time in life. Less going out with friends to the bar. Less video game binges into the wee hours. Less wasting of time period. My hobbies now tend to include research about the best ways to get my son crawling early and my social activities tend to involve my wife. (Father and son hobbies will come as my son grows older.)
In a way, I’m being forced to be more productive and deliberate as to how I spend my time – an odd side effect of having a family that I had no clue about. It is however a welcome one, in that it forces some discipline upon you, something I’ve struggled to do over my life. Dragged by my heels to be better.
Much of my generation is hedonistic in we view ourselves. Usually, it’s all about what makes me happy and satisfied now and anything that get’s in the way is a problem – or in the cases of some RP enthusiasts – supposed Beta behavior. What most players don’t realize is that when you get married, your wife needs your time. It can feel a bit strangling at times with a loss of space being your gut instinct, but new instincts will develop as your marriage goes on.
Essentially, if you want to build that next generation and a culture that will last – think of what Roosh is trying to build – your excess pleasures, desires, and frivolous hobbies will have to take a back seat. It becomes less about what makes you happy and more about what is necessary for the success of your family. I’m selfish and I’ll admit it, a hard RP to swallow is that what makes me happy isn’t necessarily going to make my wife happy or even my children. (Have another one on the way in that department.) Basically, we mature as men because we must.
Some men might take it as the nail in their coffins of their prior lives, but it simply means that a transition is taking place. What I’m realizing now is that if you want a family, a legacy, love, growing old together, and many of the usual romantic dreams, much of your bachelor self will shed it’s skin permanently. So in order to get your new skin, you have to shed the old.
I no longer have as much time for video games and my usual pleasures of flesh. Instead, I often limit them to an hour a day at most so I can focus on spending time with my wife – who needs my attention and help even more so being that I knocked her up again. Remember, marriage is a different adventure and the skills needed are far different from the arsenal of most players. Finding that key balance becomes as valuable as gold and a key component into becoming that patriarch.
In a young marriage, your wife is needy – as is mine. When you decide to have your first kid, pregnancy adds another element to that. We hear alot about shit-tests but not alot about comfort tests. I recall a conversation with my wife when she was in tears about how I didn’t comfort her, wrap my arms around her, and tell her everything was going to be okay when our son was in the NICU for 3 weeks after he was born. She wanted me to hold her in my arms and not let her go. I was supposed to be strong, but while I thought I was, I didn’t pass that strength on to her.
Logically I thought that she already knew she had my support – and I was coming to be with her everyday in the evening when I got off work. (Remember how powerful and dominant a woman’s emotions are, especially after birth.) However, I didn’t verbally communicate my thoughts on how she was feeling and how everything was going to be fine. I probably wasn’t physically affectionate enough either and obviously we couldn’t bond and come together through sex in the weeks after birth. (You really do have to be on your game and making it an intrinsic part of yourself.)
This was a hard lesson for me to learn. Men… we often have to learn how to love – both in how we show and how we do it. Love is what girls so desperately need, just as respect is something men need when it comes to marriage.
Now do you lose who you are? Everything that makes you… you?
Your family becomes you.
I as a man and father, and my wife as a woman and a mother, are now putting our feet on the next step up the stairs of life. It’s all happening very fast as is the excitement about it. About 3 months ago, we moved down to Missouri. I won’t say where, but I do like what I see down here. Housing is cheap – though so are wages.
(Luckily, I’ve got a job in which I can make a good amount of money. It’s a sale job, and I will essentially have to internalize game in a sales oriented manner. )
Arguably, it’s probably one of the most important skills a man can learn that he can apply to many other aspects of life. I never realized its application that many had waxed eloquently about until training for my current job. (Also, a quick pro-tip I’ve learned: He who complains the most gets the most. ) Furthermore, me and my wife are going to be moving into an apartment, which is will be our first place on our own with each other.
In order to start a community, you have to have a place of your own to do it. I’ve seriously considered trying to start an RVF tribe where I live. However, I’ll need to devote more time to conversing with the men of my area – specifically fathers. Even in my online reading, I find myself reading more of Dalrock, DeepStrength, FreeNortherner, and Davis Aurini. (Vox Day as well.)
I often want to help men who struggle with women out – as I see who I was in them. At the same time, I’m also realizing that men with families really do need other family men to come together to eat, drink, converse, and to sharpen each other’s lives. The conversation at the table really will differ then it did in our bachelor days. Behold, the next step in life.
Monday, April 18th, 2016 at 1:37 PM, my son Julius was born. His birth was the culmination and the reward for all of the various fights, strife, conflicts, and plain out stress that me and my pregnant wife had gone through leading up to that very moment. That said, I don’t think I was as nearly prepared for it as I thought I was. While fatherhood strikes whether you are ready for it or not, the process leading up to it can be both a joyous and tumultuous affair. Score one for my continued legacy and that evil Patriarchy with my sons birth though, as we are about to strengthen it’s ever growing resolve. (My wife already told me just the other day, “I’m ready for another one.”)
That said it’s still been stressful as my son couldn’t go home with us. He wasn’t breathing enough oxygen and had to be transferred to another hospital. My wife’s been there every day, sometimes for 12 hours a day, with me heading there the second I’ve gotten off work. Up until just a day ago, she couldn’t even hold him in our arms. As a new mother, it’s been killing her.
I can see the pain in her eyes, the stress in her movement, and the easy escalation of disagreements – though we’ve fought way less since he’s been born. My wife is young – almost 20 – and this is our first child, so we as new parents are still barely scratching the surface in just what it means to be parents. (If you’ve noticed, I try not to say my wife’s first or maiden name so certain assholes can’t target her or her future employers.)
Yes, married couples – especially newer ones fight way more than anyone want’s to admit.
Now, we hear alot about the taking the Red Pill and what it can do for a man. We know it can mean much more then just discovering the truth about feminism, social justice, and gender relation as Hawaiian Libertarian has pointed out. But what happens when you miss certain aspects of it, or dare I say, other “Red Pill” entirely?
Marriage isn’t something talked about nearly enough in whatever is left of the “manosphere”, though Roosh and many at ROK have made observations about about how men move past the player stage and what more from life and the worldview of Neo-Masculinity. When it is talked about often, it’s about how men should never get married and how you should only marry foreigners if you do.
That’s good and all, but those of us like myself who have not only gladly taken the risk, but are creating families from it, there might be a bit lacking in the RP advice department, especially on when your wife is pregnant. While game doesn’t end when you get married, but instead evolve, I often ask myself the following:
1. Am I being supportive enough?
2. Am I taking too much shit that I never would have taken before? Again, pregnancy is another aspect. Women use words as weapon very effectively, and my wife is no exception when she is stressed, in pain, has a baby kicking the inside of her, and is full of hormones. What is the appropriate course of action?
3. What should I take a stand on and what should I understand is merely a result of pregnancy? What disagreements should I compromise on or give 100% into her on. (Stress can cause miscarriages.) Did she mean any of the nasty things she just said in a fight after she apologized for them just an hour later?
4. What kind of game should be run vs what kind of game is even acceptable? Honesty is important, alas why my wife knows what my worldview is.
5. How should I resolve fights? I have my normal RP way of dealing with women, but my wife isn’t just a woman, she’s the mother of my son and is love of my life. Red-Pilled wisdom from older married men is something I wish I had way more of. Yes, I know of stuff like this, but it doesn’t go far enough.
In our young marriage, we’ve had some terrible fights, but they’ve ended pretty quickly. Sometimes I’ve put my foot down, and it does lead to more respect. The thing is I lack the necessary wisdom of when to use a gentle word to turn away wrath and when to be firm. My dad gave me a piece of wisdom in that hurtful words said early are bad for the early foundation of your marriage. No brainer, of course.
For the most part when my wife is on the verbal warpath, slashing me with her tomahawk of vicious words, I usually won’t say nasty things back; something I would do in return to anyone who wasn’t my family or my wife. I made a specific exception because she is my wife, and was pregnant. One time however, I did slip and I was so mad, I called her a piece of shit. Despite she had said far worse things to me during the car ride in which we were fighting, all of her nasty barbs didn’t matter. I was blown away.
Surprisingly in many way, Bill Burr was right:
Why was my wife acting like a teenager? Then it me; she’s 19. She still is a teenager. In fact, I’m her first real relationship. Her expectations and mine have been different on a few things. I want my alone time – she strongly objects to this sometime, the pregnancy being part of that. I often wondered, why does she say the nastiest shit when she’s angry?
(Sometimes whenever she is irked by my actions/words she will say in this disproving motherly tone, “Seriously?” It irks me even more and makes me want to say, “Yea, fucking seriously.” Then, I remember that I do indeed love her. I just wish there were more guys out there like AverageMarriedDad and TheFamilyAlpha who know what it’s like and have advice on how to have a successful happy marriage and a resulting healthy family. Too often, we get alot of marriage advice from men who aren’t actually married or are bitterly divorced and have a strong bias against it – somewhat understandably so.
Marriage is hard work, but it’s worth it. Yes, it like any other major life choice is a risk, but it’s a worthy one, despite the quality of good women in our generation, the courts, and a system rigged against men. Marriage is a risk, but what else in life isn’t a risk? Some of the best thing in life involve risk – whether that be in time investment, finances, relationships, etc. Don’t let your life be hindered by aversion to risk, simply decide what risks are really worth it. I do believe marriage is one -provided you find the right woman which definitely is worth it.
Holding your son for the first time is worth it. Oh and stopping fights as they happen with sex – which we do alot – is totally worth it. In fact, if there’s anything I’ve learned it’s that if the fight is about to escalate, pull her pant’s down. Her words, not mine. Well, she was definitely right about that. (Also make-up sex and I’ve never had to beg for sex. Ever.)
I encourage men who aren’t sure about marriage to really look for a good woman. They are out there, though you won’t find them on Tinder, bars, etc. Are you looking hard enough? Are your glasses filtering out the good girls? Many of you say you want one, but do you really? When you marry young, you do face different challenges and you would be wise to ready yourself for them. Being good at being a man is hard work.
Do you want your legacy to continue? Do you want the pleasure of having your child gaze up at you and look deeply into your eyes? Do you want to statistically have far more sex as a married man than single men do – especially when you are young? Obviously don’t marry for just sex or even just love. Find the right woman. You don’t marry someone who is your soulmate. You marry someone who becomes your soulmate. Remember that dear Gentleman, and Godspeed to you.
“They said you were touching girl’s asses,” the school’s principle, Diane, who had called me in for my transgressions. Luckily for me, she was a nice lady who was interested in at least hearing what this criminal had to say.
This was nonsense. I was just playing hard. What the hell was she talking about? We are playing sports together!
Reflecting On My Sins
In the end, I was blindsided and ended up fessing up to something I really hadn’t done, because I didn’t want to get in any more trouble. It was as if I had come out on top, but my victory had been tossed away due to steroid use.
My persecutors were two girls in particular who were actually both 8th graders, who also had a hard on for me that wasn’t sexual in the slightest, but rather one in which they vindictively felt better by helping to bully a kid like me who was already somewhat of an “outcast”. I knew it was them, but what could I do? It would be one of the first times I realized girls fought behind your back with words, unlike boys who would fight with fists before your eyes.
I hadn’t touched their asses as much as I had bumped into them or their boobs trying to catch the football before they did when we jumped in to the air. They wanted to play with us, afterall. I figured that if the girls wanted to play with the rest of us boys, we of course shouldn’t treat them any differently. I was very competitive and to quote A Day To Remember, “2nd Sucks,” and letting the girls who were also playing with us get the ball instead of me felt like a violation of what every boy usually wants when it comes to a competition; to win. In order to do that, I had to play hard.
Boy, was I wrong.
It didn’t even matter that I wasn’t really attracted to fine bootys, and still am not till this day. I remember explaining my situation to another classmate who related how he got in trouble for the same thing – though I don’t know if it was intentional, but now I suspect it wasn’t. Apparently I got off easier as I was becoming a charmer even at 12.
I was a spunky somewhat nerdy 6th grader, who liked to play hard. Yes, I was still a geeky booky nerd who enjoyed board & table top games along with PC games, but I liked to tumble, so to speak, and I was desperate to prove my capabilities to the rest of my classmates who still viewed my poorly groomed self as someone to be made fun of. Recess was my favorite part of school usually, and I looked forward to it as a way to finally get out of my seat and prove myself on the playground.
Soccer was very popular at my school, and we all played it. I knew that proving myself on the field during recess and lunch time would at least give me some measure of respect in the eyes of my “bully” who the soccer god at school and whose words shaped opinions on just about everything. It was one of my first exercises in masculinity – proving my worth.
This included the girls, some of them who were pretty damn good. At first, I would slide tackle them as I would anyone else, however when I did, I always received some kind of scorn if one of them got “hurt” during the tackle. Even if I was treating girls equally in how I played and competed with them, I was still “bad”, if they got hurt in the process. The “protector” instinct manifested itself with the rest of my male classmates and those who violated it – even in an unknown demonstration of “equality” on the playground – would know about it.
I can recall another time when another female teacher – she was a good lady – pulled me aside off the field after several of the girls playing along with us complained I was playing too hard and was acting “crazy” in my desire to win the ball back. She told me something along the lines of how she understand how I played hard, but the girls didn’t. Imagine me in a similar situation in the present day.
Now that I think about it, if I was now in sixth grade in a public school, I could have been accused of sexual harassment for my rough play. It didn’t even cross my mind at the time, but considering how hostile public schools now are to young males, I could have been railroaded because the teachers would have already assumed I was inappropriately touching female classmates during physical play at recess. Even more unfortunate is that with teachers and staff being 90% female, they might not understand the rough play isn’t sexual in nature, even if they have sons, because it is the age in which boys often have just hit puberty.
Even if they do realize the above and choose not to play with the girls, they can still get in trouble for excluding the girls, specifically if some demand to play with them. Of course the boys shouldn’t have to worry about the risks of accidentally touching or brushing up against them the wrong way, and should be happy to use the time as a reason to connect with those girls later and get to know them better. (At least that’s what I tried to do at the age because most girls didn’t like drawing pictures of Sonic , playing Tony’ Hawks Pro Skater 2, or nerding out to tabletop games.)
Occasionally, I’ll play floor hockey that’s technically “co-ed” on Sunday nights and I’ve noticed I’m afraid to play hard against any girls – the ones who actually show up – for fear that if they get hurt, I’ll be looked at like some form of Hitler.
Some co-ed sport activities aren’t a bad time, but if you want to unleash your inner competitive animal, it won’t happen when your afraid of accidentally hurting someone else’s wife or girl in front of the entire gym. The guys only floor hockey I played in a few times on Thursday’s demonstrated the satisfying feeling of not having to worry about holding back, so much so in fact, that there’s almost been a few fights with the smell of sweat rank in the air.
I feel bad for young boys today who want to play hard with their female classmates, but when they do, realize that there are unexpected consequences for embracing the “equality message” preached in schools, which wont be an acceptable defense when they end up brushing up against the ass of the wrong high-school queen who might exact vengeance through both white knights and school staff on the lookout for sexual harassment.
Note I went to a private Christian school for 6th grade, with well-meaning staff and teachers.
Inspiration from 2nd sucks comes from this song, which I will admit, moshing to anytime it’s played live.
A friend of mine has been struggling in the dating market – to put it simply. She wants a guy that is attracted to her, and she wants to share in that same reciprocity. We will call her Liz. A Facebook status about it went up.
(Disclosure: Liz had a crush on me for a long time. Her weight was the main reason I didn’t share the same feelings. You can’t force attraction. )
Now Liz isn’t exactly the most attractive girl, and the fact that she is overweight doesn’t make it any easier for her to improve this. Most of her friends posted things like, “Oh you are sooooo pretty,” and “Guys will and/or should like you for your personality.”
I decided to be more honest, though I made sure to cushion it, “It wouldn’t hurt to lose some weight.”
Sensible advice right? Weight loss is one of the most effective ways to make yourself more attractive, assuming you are overweight. Your 20s are a time when you should be making the most out of your looks – regardless of how limited they may be. It is when you are at your physical prime.
Getting to a normal healthy weight?
Damnable fat shaming, body hate social media heresy.
One response involved something like, “Those people are shallow anyway, they should like you for who you are, and they wouldn’t be worth it if they don’t like you now.”
That’s flattering and to some extent is true, but it doesn’t nullify the fact that the potential dating pool of nice guys who may be interested in Liz for her personality and who she is are far and few between. Then then throw in the percentage of “those” nice guys who Liz is actually attracted to and the prospects are rather grim.
It is in fact a comfortable lie, but it ignores a fundamental truth; People are shallow. I’m shallow. Even those people who are not are very unlikely to give her a chance to reveal her inner beauty.
Instead of telling Liz the truth like real friends would, they continue to lie and tell her things she knows isn’t true.
“When you do these things, you are letting your girlfriend wallow in her mediocrity. If you tell your friend that she looks good when she doesn’t, she isn’t going to make an effort to look better next time”
You can boost her ego, but that won’t help her situation get any better. It also won’t promote REAL confidence.
Liz’s situation isn’t unique. It’s far more common then we realize and it means that there is a large group of people all seeking romance, but doing it with what is essentially a paper bag on their heads when compared to the more in shape parts of the population.
Basically there is an abundance of overweight people who don’t want fellow overweight people, but the slimmer more attractive folks they see in TV shows and film. We all want a mate of the opposite sex who is more attractive then us. (Excluding the 5% or lower of “other” sexual attractions.)
Don’t believe me?
A Large Nation-Wide Problem
Obesity and curse of being overweight have struck our society hard. Romance – or at least the possibility of finding it – is made even more difficult for a rather large percentage of the population:
Percent of adults age 20 years and over who are obese: 35.1% (2011-2012)
Percent of adults age 20 years and over who are overweight, including obesity: 69.0% (2011-2012)
Let’s not pull punches. Being overweight and obesity has killed members on my dad’s side of the family because of things like heart disease, diabetes, and sleep apnea. Thing is they already know about this and about how bad it is, but it’s so hard for them to lose the weight and there is a rather scary reason for it.
If we are perfectly honest, if you were overweight as a kid, it’s much harder to lose weight as an adult than it would be if you at a normal weight as a kid.
“The number of fat cells a person has is determined by late adolescence; although overweight and obese children can lose weight, they do not lose the extra fat”
What can we do with inconvenient truth? Well, I could encourage her to “accept her body” and hope things get better. Natural confidence right? It won’t change the situation and it isn’t going to magically attract any “good-looking guys” to her, but it should make her feel happy and proud about her body.
According to the body and fat acceptance crowd at Identities.Mic it will.
“The intersectional issues of size, health and weight loss are far more complicated than we’ve been led to believe, and this lack of understanding has led to weight-based discrimination becoming a serious problem across the world. Widespread anti-fat prejudice typically stems from misconceptions about health, weight and body positivity, and negatively affects millions of people every day.
People are allowed to make their own decisions regarding their own bodies, but we need to start treating people of all sizes with respect.”
Somehow, I don’t see how this is going to help these overweight people find the storybook romance they so desperately seek instead of the in-game WOW partner we are encouraging them to quest with. Nor will it deal with the vicious health problems that will occur once you hit your 30s and later. Note some damage is irreversible, and when that becomes the kind of body power/acceptance doesn’t seem very “feminist” to me.
Now, your life doesn’t exactly stop when you are overweight – nor should it, but will you actually get the romance and love life you desire from the people you are attracted to? The crew at RandolphRiot definitely seem to think so.
“Fat Fashion is all about women feeling comfortable in their own bodies no matter how big they are! This form of feminism is helping women feel empowered by their own bodies no matter how small or big the woman might be, and I believe that is an amazing accomplishment. This gives me hope!”
Hope. It’s a big deal – for anyone. In fact without it, people have loss the will to live. It can motivate you, but is the self-backlash worse if you realize the hope is false and/or misplaced?
“…Do you think this form of feminism can lead to the elimination of the perfect body image?”
Because people are visual creatures, and because some kind of “preferrable” standard will always exist. We can eliminate all the current media driven standards on beauty and any words used to describe them, but culture will simply form new ones. Why?
People are shallow.
However, most people aren’t going to wade through the unattractive waters to see if anything desirable lies beneath. Liz won’t be given the chance. Perhaps those guys who don’t give her the chance aren’t worth it, but the guys who will? Chances are, she isn’t going to be attracted to any of them. I’ve seen it happen many times already. Is there still a chance for the magical and mystical quest that is Romance? Some fat-acceptance advocates on Psychology Today seem to think so:
“Love, sex and romance did not stop for close to a hundred million people! Let’s face it—we live in a culture that shames fat. An entire diet industry is built around that shame“
We also live in a culture that shame cigarette smokers, but I suppose that doesn’t count. Well, is it shameful to encourage people to be healthier?
“The message that is being delivered in great big heaping doses is pretty simple: if you lose the weight—you will find love, romance and sex. Thin equals happy and entitlement. Fat equals broken and not worthy. What they don’t tell you is that there are plenty of unhappy thin people too. Thin is simply not the magic bullet”
She actually is right, but it will greatly increase your chances. People might actually give you a second look on Tinder before they swipe. They might be more likely to help you out in the store – happens to me alot. Guys might actually look directly at you for a while before looking at your friends next to you.
Is this mean?
At this point in the social justice epidemic, I can’t be bothered to care anymore if I want to continue merely drawing breath; thanks Tumblr and feminist fat acceptance screeds. However, boosting their self-esteem by lying to them isn’t going to land them any more success in the dating market. It doesn’t mean that they should give up and stop trying, but things could be much easier.
In case you don’t know, I’m actually a hopeless romantic.
Deep down, I want everyone to find someone to live that idea Notebook life with – that includes social justice warriors and ardent radical feminists. I want them to experience love, romance, and that good old life that I myself desire.
Something else the manosphere has got wrong is its reaction to the fat acceptance movement and this whole “fat shaming” theory that is raging in the feminist blogosphere. I’m not shocked that overweight obese feminists want to abort beauty standards, “cultural norms” of what is attractive, and the ideal body weight. You would too if the men you were interested in were getting snagged by more attractive and fitter competition.
However, “Fat Shaming” isn’t the answer. If I’m brutally honest, I found ROK’s #fatshamingweek to be hysterical with some of their tweets. Yes, I still find dark morbid jokes that deal with obesity to be funny. (All or nothing when it comes to my take on comedy and what the limits are.)
As Mike has later realized, this does nothing to actually help, besides generating outrage, which it did very successfully. None of that however is going to convince people to lose weight. They already know they are overweight, and they know it is affecting them. The hope you can provide support to the people you value in continuing to help them lose weight, exercise, and even diet.
What Can You Do?
If you really care about someone, you present them the cold harsh truth, but you are supportive in how you do it. You are essentially giving a friendly critique, rather then a trolling criticism designed to make them feel more shitty.
Here’s a personal story that relates to my family:
My dad who was about 5 foot 7 inches and weighed over 360 pounds struggled to be able to do any exercise. He started to rapidly gain weight when he hit about 23 and the weight just kept adding up. Around 48, he started experiencing nausea, dizziness, feeling light-headed, and he was drinking an excess of water as he felt constantly thirsty. He was was exhausted and never felt rested; his sleep apnea made this even worse.
A similar weight, lack of exercise, and bad diet had killed my dad’s father at only 54. I was worried about his weight and so were my mom’s parents in particular.
What woke my dad up was finding out that he had the signs of type two diabetes. From this point, he did everything he could to try to improve and change his diet. He started to eat only whole foods, and avoided processed foods. When he ate meat, it was grass-fed. He would switch to actual raw milk.
Upon reading “Forks Over Knives” and doing a lot of his own research, he would become a Vegan for dietary reasons. Fast forward just about two years and my dad has lost over 120 pounds. He reversed the type 2 diabetes, has lower blood pressure than me, and has no signs of heart disease.
Just over a year into his Veganism, he started to be able to finally exercise, play floor hockey, and feel refreshed and full of energy. (Note, I’m not a Vegan.)
Thatsupport is key. Once you hit a certain threshold, it becomes VERY difficult to lose weight, like it was for my dad. Often people’s jobs actively hinder exercise and our American time centered culture usually entails to many people frequently eating terribly on the run.
Often, I see many people in the fat acceptance movement promote the same kinds of lifestyles that killed my Grandpa so early as something to be embraced. It is isn’t and it rather angers and disturbs me that the movement is lying to people in the way it is.
However, that won’t blind me from the fact that it really is hard to lose weight, my dad being the anecdotal evidence. My dad’s life didn’t come to a stop just because of his weight issues, but they were a profound barrier and hindrance to him living well, active, and actually enjoying each day.
People in the Fat Acceptance/Body Acceptance movement will stand by it, but sometimes it’s critics – myself included – overlook the efforts they put in to trying to live healthy lifestyle, being active, exercising, losing weight, and trying to get healthier. (Diet may be the easiest approach at first.) Instead of trashing them, we should be encouraging them.
Take for example a somewhat better known fat acceptance advocate by the name of Ragen Chastain who runs the advocacy site, “Dances With Fat”. While we may facetiously chuckle at the title, Ragen is on the frontlines fighting the fat fight – but doing at least some of it in a healthy way. She teaches a dance class, does some dancing herself, as well as from what I can tell some form of exercising.
She of course is a social justice advocate, member of the “fatosphere”, an ardent feminist, and she brings awareness to tumblrisms like, “Thin privilege,” in her fight against “cultural beauty norms”. It perturbs and saddens me. She lists more about her ideas:
As a plus-sized professional athlete, I practice Health at Every Size and as a human being I am an unwavering advocate for Size Acceptance – the civil rights truth that every body deserves respect and that the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are inalienable, not contingent on size, health, or dis/ability.
The civil rights truth that everyone deserves respect… Well, with ideological opponents, you often have to agree to disagree.
She also promotes health at every size. What exactly is that? Well according to her it is:
Accepting and respecting the diversity of body shapes and sizes
Recognizing that health and well-being are multi-dimensional and that they include physical, social, spiritual, occupational, emotional, and intellectual aspects
Promoting all aspects of health and well-being for people of all sizes
Promoting eating in a manner which balances individual nutritional needs, hunger, satiety, appetite, and pleasure
Promoting individually appropriate, enjoyable, life-enhancing physical activity,rather than exercise that is focused on a goal of weight loss
Well there is plenty there that I and others would point out is wrong, but instead let’s focus on what she said that she get’s right which I’ve underlined and bolded. At least she is trying to do better and get others who struggle with weight to engage in things like, “Life-enhancing activity.” In fact, she does actually have some decent diet and activity ideas worth checking out.
(She actually finished a 26 mile marathon in Seattle about two years ago. For her size and weight, that’s pretty damn impressive. I haven’t even attempted a marathon that long.)
Good for her.
Hopefully, she lives a well-fulfilled life and enjoys every moment of it to the max. I do however suspect that if she lost some weight, her beauty wouldn’t be as obscured. Like it or not, people are more respectful, are friendlier, and more partial to those they regard as beautiful.
Insisting that everyone is “beautiful” at every size isn’t going to magically make it so. Reducing the word so that it means essentially nothing won’t change that either. It will just be replaced by words like, “preference”.
That is the point.
If you want to widen your net to include more attractive dating partners, you will have to make an effort to do the same. This may be shallow, but it’s something that will never change – regardless of how many times social justice warriors insist that it just merely another cultural norm that must be eliminated.
Encourage your friends to widen their nets by losing weight. Yes, you can be happy and still be overweight, but you could be so much more.
They say that you aren’t ready to be with someone else if you haven’t fixed your own problems. Well, with that conclusion, it seems no one is ready to date or find a relationship. In fact, it sounds more like an excuse because we refuse to face the fact that we are terrified of actual romance – or the possibility and potential of it.
How many people these days do you know have relationships that never last more than a few months? Or when things get serious, they scamper away? Commitment these days is a dirty and scary word. Many will tell you that you don’t want to be first in vocalizing your desire for commitment. It all becomes a series of games between men and women.
75% of married people, according to the Inquisitr, report “settling” as they have lost their chance at true love. Yea, that’s depressing. In fact 46% of those people would leave their relationship for their true love. That says something about the power of love.
My generation – millennials – seemingly have a terrifying fear of missing out. We want to remain single, available, and in the mode of continued experimentation – yet we fear a potential future of remaining single. It’s a disturbing catch-22 filled with cognitive dissonance. We “settle”, but we don’t fall in love. Again, I suggest that some of us may have missed out.
The vicious truth of today’s consumer and materialistic society is that everyone is focused on their career above all else. When push comes to shove, most people will gladly sacrifice their romance for a future that’s not even guaranteed. Men and women are fed the lie that you don’t need someone else – a lie that flies in the face of all of human history and biology. This thinking is willfully promoted by feminism in that women don’t need a man and in reverse by the some in the manosphere that men don’t need women. I call BS. As FreeNortherner points out,
“However much some feminists and some MGTOWs rage against it, men and women want to be together with each other. They want to love and be loved.”
We want to be loved, needed, desired, and sought after. The consistent denial of this is leading to people with unhappy lives, scores of people on depression, and every medical condition under the sun that’s popped up in the last two decades.
Romance Or A Career?
I for one will always choose my relationships over a career. Now this doesn’t mean one should let themselves go completely, be lazy, ect. Simply realize that life is short and you want to enjoy it the best you can with someone you care about and love.
I believe there are more people with these thoughts out there, but they are becoming rarer as our society degrades into a smartphone and social media obsessed cespool of vanity, jealous, and envy. Often we don’t actually want romance – we want material things which we think will lead to it.
1. Love is a spark of physical, psychological, and emotional intimacy. It’s so intense, that it scares people. The uncomfortable truth is that relationships take work. Perhaps love is where you throw everything aside for that special person. There isn’t exactly a backup plan – another scary thought in today’s often shallow relationships, but it’s crossed my mind.
2. Relationships are work – and anything that takes work is a potential hazard that can bog us down in our quest to experience life. Yes, we may be experiencing life, but are we actually experiencing any of the romance that we so keenly and subconsciously desire?
Ultimately, people want other people who have something going for them and this is often reflected in career, fame, friends, family, and a bright future. You sometimes just hope that you may experience a bright future with someone who doesn’t care about how much money you bring to the table. As Alice from the Honeymooners said to Ralph before she married him, “Ralph, I’d be happy to live in a tent with you.”
It shocks me how many people I’ve met who are dirt poor, yet are happy as can be with each other. They don’t need anything else but the two of them. Considering how short life is and how tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, they may be on to something.
As much as I despise and revile modern day feminists – specifically the radical ones, I feel sorry for them. I’ve noticed a cruel streak that not only infects opposing political ideologies – namely conservative vs liberal, but also in the ideologies that I am particularly interested in – the manosphere and feminism. The hatred I see from them both angers me, as I do have a pair of testicles, but saddens me as well. To add more fuel to the fire, the vitriol that is usually returned upon them by many in the manosphere and this plagues any actual honest attempt at online discourse. In fact, it’s not possible on twitter – don’t even try.
I recall that piece which blew up on the internet in January by Scott Aaronson, the MIT professor, who had the worst kind of “nerd” nightmare that one can imagine growing up. It was so bad – as was the effect of feminism on him, that he contemplated chemical castration and suicide because he was terrified of oppressing and harassing women through any kind of conversation with them. Despite all this, he states that he is still 97% on board with feminism. That is some devotion right there, though I wonder how long that will last.
When I finished reading her article, it finally hit me; we are all losing our compassion and our ability to show empathy.
Retaining Your Compassion
I also sometimes worry that I could become like them; so filled with hate for the terrible things said and done in the name of feminism, that it engulfs me and turns me into a nasty and bitter person. Could I literally lose my identity to an ideology that is supposed to free me – name The Red Pill?
Let’s say I knew someone was a feminist and a particularly nasty one. Imagine it was Lindy West, Anna Merlan, or even Jessica Valenti – “shudders” – and they were broke, alone, homeless, stranded, ect – would I be compassionate? I really hope I would. Sure karma is a revenge best served cold, but everyone deserves at least some measure of mercy.
I will admit, I enjoy jokes made at their expense, the fun that should be poked at them, and the moderate ridicule that should be made of some of the things they say and positions they hold.
However, everyone – hopefully – has a base moral compass that is aware of the importance of compassion. Forget the gender of someone in need, would you help them if it didn’t directly benefit you? (Yes, I’m aware of the friendzoned beta male white knights who end up becoming emotional tampons without the kind of reciprocation they most desire – sexual reciprocation.)
Still, shouldn’t we bother to help the downtrodden when we see them, regardless of whether they have had it coming or not? While women like Valenti who “bathe in male” tears both yet again anger and sadden me, do I really want to bathe in “female” tears? I imagine Valenti is just being as snarky as the rest of us – myself included – are when we want to let loose.
Look at women like Valenti, Merlan, and especially Marcotte. Take a close look at the nastier voices of feminism and what it has turned them into. I don’t believe they actually like their lives or the lives of others around them – specifically people who are happy. Misery does love it’s company. Their only satisfaction and enjoyment in life seems to be reduced to hating and beating on men, both on the clock and off of it. That’s a shallow purpose and identity which will have consequences later in life.
The question I must always ask myself as I critique and dismiss the particular virulent parts of feminism is, “Do I really want to become the reverse of them?”
Getting Back Into The Real World
In the online world – specifically social media – we often forget we are conversing with other REAL people. Yes, we will meet some deliberate trolls, but the vast amount of our opponents are not trolls, but sincere meaning people. Yes, I said that about feminists. Too often there is this ultimate boogeyman concept that we slap onto all of our ideological opponents. Yes, the internet has gotten more polarized and full of vitriol, but that only goes to prove that you need to get off social media, the manosphere, ect and actually converse with real people.
“But, for the most part, I haven’t found Twitter to be a positive experience. And I’m not just talking about harassment from misogynists, I’m talking about the internal shit. The mean girls-style popularity contest so many of those on feminist Twitter engage in. The take-downs, the bullying, the mocking, the defamation, the snide remarks, and the absolutely endless stream of hate.”
Never forget that you are talking to REAL people and not digital monstrous constructs behind a smartphone have forgotten that real life is quite different from the internet battlefields in which the corpses keep piling up.
“And sure, you might say, people behave like that in the “real world.” But the funny thing is that, in the real world, I’m happy. I generally enjoy my life, despite common challenges like rent-paying, work-finding, relationship-maintenance, etc. I don’t feel or see an inordinate amount of hatred among the feminists I know and work with on a human-to-human level. It happens, sure, but not daily. Not constantly. And the vitriol is decidedly muted.”
She is quite right. In the real world, I’ve been able to converse with feminists in when engaging in conversation in real life and avoid engaging in the kind of vitriol that occurs online and in social media. I find it puzzling, because while I try to “live” online in the way I do my every day actual life, my “I don’t care if this offends you,” anger comes out.
However, I control how my anger and frustration is expressed in the conversations I have. Personally, I’ve long strived to make sure that I don’t exist in an echo-chamber. Because of this, I often engage in conversation with people whose views I find scary, dangerous, detestable, ect. This is a lot easier and more productive however when done in person.
How could anyone actually hold the opinions they do? It’s frightening!
Expressing your anger in a vicious, atrocious, and appalling manner is not.
Never forget you are a human being, just remember to act like one – even in the face of some of the nastiest ideologues of our time. Don’t become like so many feminists and social justice warriors who can’t handle disagreement to the point that they are willing to silence said disagreement by attaching labels like “harassment” to dissenting voices and opinions. In fact, they have even gone so far as to label “oppressive language” – which they of course define – as actually limiting free speech. The Orwellian descent of tolerance continues to deepen.
Don’t get me wrong, expressing your anger is a necessary part of life. Injustice should deeply bother and anger you. However, the way you go about expressing that anger however will say alot about who you are and what you are becoming.
Make no mistake though, don’t back down from what you believe. Don’t allow yourself to be bullied and shamed, *cough Scott Aaronson* something that ironically has become so intrinsic to modern day feminism. Sometimes, you may need to let some of that rage out. Just pick how and where and consider whether it will be constructive – like at the gym or blowing things up on Call of Duty – or negative like exploding at a barista at Starbucks.
We all want to be heard and one way to do that is to state everything in the angriest possible way – going viral to get the necessary attention for your subject matter. The blogosphere has become a competition these days to go viral – and being constantly and consistently angry and enraged is a good way to stir up controversy to try and do just that. It’s also a good way to let your “online” persona start to bleed into your real life character.
The Red Pill and many of the resources in the manosphere can greatly help you become a man and embrace your masculinity in light of the ever present assault on it. There must be to becoming a man and to life than bitching about feminism.
This is fundamentally what the Red Pill is about when it talks about self-improvement consuming your time and turning you into a better person. You pick yourself up and you keep going. If you start to lose all of your friends, close relationships, and a dire misanthropic attitude toward mankind – which I understand with bad days at work – you might want to examine how you are letting the TRP effect you and if it is altering your identity into what inspired you to take TRP in the first place.
Self-reflection is often something we neglect – or perhaps I simply avoid. I’d like to give a shoutout to DCLlive for his post, “Don’t Lose Your Identity”, that got me reflecting honestly about where I am at in my own life after discovering the manosphere and principles of TRP. If I am brutally honest, I feel like a pampered failure who has squandered his inheritance in a pig’s snout.
My pride hurts. While other people I know might believe I’ve got it together, I know deep-down that I don’t.
Change is often something that must come directly from within. Family, friends, and worldview can help prod me along, but ultimately I must have the drive and ambition to lead the charge within myself. Unfortunately, I really don’t.
I discovered the manosphere a bit over 6 months ago and it’s most certainly had an effect on my life. I’ve gotten laid more, become much better at talking to girls, and have gotten them coming to me – woman want me and that’s not an egocentric statement.
I’ve gained a better understanding of attaining the kind of relationship I want, started to understand what becoming a man requires, the importance of developing and improving myself, and making use of my time – thanks to being introduced to “Minimalism” through Captain Capitalism and one of his books, “Enjoy The Decline.” Things are looking up. They also are bugging me though.
The more and more I think about it, I realize I’ve wasted alot of the time of my early 20s. I managed to get out on my own for a year and rent an apartment with my friends. Even though it was a mistake, I learned a lot. I then took a few years off school, but didn’t do much besides work.
I’m one of those lucky individuals who has free tuition because my father works at the school. (I have no debt.) That being said, I still have squandered the time, barely made an attempt to get anything more than passing grades, and essentially have been fooling around while living in my parents basement. Even the time I dedicate to homework I waste playing games, watching movies, ect.
I can pick the time and days I work because of my job at my school and I can literally work it around my class schedule. Even then, I choose not to work nearly as much as I should. I essentially have no bills, besides a phone bill and gas as my Dad has been covering my car insurance and even currently the phone bill.
How’s that for independence?
It scares me. I don’t want to be one of those losers going into their 30s who really is still dependent on their parents.
Even when I graduate from college, which appears to be the next semester, I’ll have turned 27 in October. I don’t even know what I will do with my degree, besides be happy that it was free. I am already ashamed of the fact it will have taken me that long to graduate, besides the fact that I’ve been able to take alot of non-related degree classes allowing me to really enjoy my college experience.
Even most of my family makes comments about how long it has taken me and my uncle asks me what I plan to do when I get done with it all. I honestly don’t have a good answer to give him. This also scares me. What am I actually going to do for a career? I’m still not sure at this point.
I know I should acquire as many skills as I can at this point, but I can’t motivate myself to form any kind of ambition, despite things being handed to me on a plate. I’ve actually attempted to learn some internet coding languages, but I can’t seem to force myself past the initial steps. This even occurs when I try to learn basic video editing – I get too lazy to bother following through.
How can I actually allow myself to blow this kind of opportunity?
I barely bother to apply myself with my homework, and as I type this, I’m mightily behind in a Spanish class this semester I’ve barely applied myself to – despite actually wanting to learn Spanish.
Being brutally honest with myself, I’ve come to this conclusion: I’ve become a nasty internet cliche of everything I don’t want to be.
I need to get my shit together. Change starts from within. I want to become a real man with real responsibility – actually becoming mature. Can I motivate myself to do that? I hope to God that I can.