At the birth of my beta existence, I was a senior in high school. I hadn’t dated much, and was just discovering girls, while many of my peers had been dating for 2-3 years. I was a virgin who had very little experience in this realm. I was a pretty hopeless case. A text book beta.
So it goes without saying that my first screaming case of oneitis occurred in these beta formative years. And of all my cases of oneitis, this was the worst.
She was tall, athletic, blond, and gorgeous. Tiffany was a freshman when I was a senior. She had lived in my neighborhood, and I knew of her growing up, but when she hit high school, she blossomed into a beautiful woman. And she knew it. So being a beta turd, I was already at a disadvantage. I was put into the friendzone almost immediately, with my only success being a stealed kiss waiting for a friend at my parents house.
She dated two of my friends as I continued into college. I was extremely hooked on her, almost unhealthy, and as she graduated, she would bounce around dating my good friends (everyone except me, essentially).
I still wouldn’t take the hint. When she entered college at my university, I tried to continue to play the nice guy. I took her to dinners constantly, listening to her drone on about how my friends were so awesome to her and she had a crush on them. Bouncing back and forth between my two best friends at the time, it was agony for me. And I still couldn’t drag myself out of it.
This screaming case of oneitis had cost me my college freedom. It had closed me off to what was possible. And even worse, if she had asked me to do anything, I would’ve done it twice over. She had a spell on me, and it really affected me.
On several of our dinner dates, I would continue to hint that I would be perfect for her, molding myself into someone she could date, but she would always tell me no. I’d be destroyed for a couple of months, and then go right back to trying to court her. Hope was killing my life.
Hope is a death knell for betas.
It was after college that I finally came a bit to my senses. I started to distance myself from her, only to have her come over and complain about my friend and her’s relationships. Then, her and my friend broke up. I thought this was my chance.
It was a May afternoon about a year after I graduated from college that I heard that not only was she not choosing me (a statement she had made many times before), but she was dating another one of my best friends. I exploded. She called from her car and I went off on both her and my friend. I was done. I didn’t talk to them for years after the fact.
But it didn’t have to be this way.
I’d never taken rejection well. To the point where if I was rejected, I would cower for two – three months and be petrified of approaching any girls. I had to resort to online dating so that I could buffer the horrible pain of rejection. So my high school and college careers was a series of oneitis catches, then rejection, then despair as I tried to get over it. It really was pitiful, but it was all I knew, so those years were essentially a dumpster fire.
“It’s As If You’ve Been Physically Hurt”
Rejection is a primal human fear. It’s a part of us. According to Psychology Today, rejection actually “piggybacks off of pain pathways in the brain.“
Humans have a mapped feel for rejection, all the way back to ancient times. Humans have a need to belong, “and when they were ostracized by their tribe, it would almost mean certain death“. So in that sense, rejection was a life or death issue. Survival instincts kicked in after a rejection.
These days, we fear rejection even more, and the ostracization of people can be even more felt. So much so that society has put in buffers.
So terrified are we as a society of rejection, so terrified are we of social interaction, that we have built our dating technology, food service, grocery delivery, and dining out experiences to avoid speaking with people.
Think about it. We have food delivery, pay at the pump, grocery delivery, carry out, porn, and swiping right and left to specifically avoid talking to people in person. Social interaction means exposing ourselves to some form of rejection, and we avoid it like the plague. We like our bubbles, and we erect comfortable walls to keep us safe inside so we don’t have to feel that pain.
So what’s the result? Well, disaster.
Social skills are lacking in younger generations. Young men are having less sex than ever before. The amount of men not having sex has increased three fold over the past 10 years. We have buffered ourselves into a stagnation of child birth rates.
Reading body language, reading a room, interacting with people have all become quality skills that are needed these days. It’s amazing to me how technology has gone out of it’s way to push keeping people in their bubbles.
And all of this, all of it, because we want to avoid the pain of rejection.
Pain hurts. Of course it does. It’s a human body’s generated response to “stay the hell away from that”. But pain is also the body’s greatest teacher. Which is why we as a human race need to stop avoiding it.
S what did I do after I snapped? Well, continuing on my destiny of being a plugged in beta, I finally, finally, got out of my shell just after college. I started to work out more, I started to date more. I was meeting people. I would slowly work my way out of my rejection funks. Where before I would zero out for months, it was now weeks or days. Then, I met my wife.
The “lost decade” for me came after I had made so much progress. I fell back to Earth. And I didn’t have the chance to really come into my own, choosing the path of least resistance. Then I got divorced.
Going through the hell of divorce makes you a different person. The pain of rejection is nothing compared to the pain of divorce. When you start feeling REAL pain, financial, emotional, and physical, you realize that rejection is nothing.
So as I emerged from my divorce, it was time for me to finally take control. I fluttered around for about a year, dating occasionally, and still feeling the sting of rejection, but not to the extent I felt in my 20’s. It was getting better.
I’ve had three relationships in the 3 years since my divorce, and each relationship has taught me more and more about rejection in the big scheme of my world. The pain was becoming less intense with every breakup, every rejection, regardless of situations.
“Pain Don’t Hurt”
One of the most famous lines from the 1989 classic movie Road House, Patrick Swayze makes an excellent point. As he’s getting stitches from Kelly Lynch without numbing, he’s telling her about the amount of times he’s been stabbed, shot, and beaten up. His body has become used to it. It comes with the turf of being a bouncer.
So what the hell does this have to do with rejection? Well. I’ll let my recent experiences tell you.
In the past year, I’ve been rejected over 300 times by women. And while I now don’t think that’s a lot, taking the beta Red Pill Dad numbers of 2 months average after a rejection to get right, that would be over 50 years to stew over that many rejections. 50 FREAKIN’ YEARS. I’d be 75 years old with the same oneitis problems. What a waste of a life.
My pain is now pleasure. The pain of rejection has now been turned around in my life to give me a road map to be a better man.
Pain from rejection turns into learned experience and eventual success.
After any rejections, I don’t stew. I think, I write, and I study. I take advantage of my pain to show me what I did wrong.
Instead of passively avoiding the pain like we see society doing, I am actively working to avoid the pain by studying my techniques and learning what works.
Now, I’m approaching and getting rejected more than I ever had. The key to rejection is to NOT TAKE IT PERSONAL. Knowing that one fact will make the pain of rejection that much more easy to take. Whether she’s in a relationship, not in the mood, you don’t click with her, you live in different cities, or you have different goals and interests, it’s just not a fit.
She’s just not into you, bro.
Getting past the pain of rejection was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But overcoming that pain is small compared to the regret you’d feel living a life of disconnect just because you don’t want to feel it.
Feeling pain is living. So it’s time for you to start.