So I thought we’d have some fun and get away from the serious topics of the last two episodes, and so I went over to the Red Pill Brewery, connected to the Red Pill Dad Studios and had my good friend Jack Gefferson on for some beers and some man talk.
Completely unedited and unscripted (the “you know’s” fly fast and heavy from me), but it was a nice change of pace from the personal topics I’d covered in the past.
So pull up a chair, pop open a beer, and enjoy our discussion.
So a very recent phenomenon has happened to me a few times in the past couple of months and I couldn’t resist the chance to write about it.
About eight months ago, I was sitting in a local coffee shop working on my blog when I got a good IOI looking up from my computer of a HB 7 typing away on her laptop in the same vicinity.
I approached, sat down, and started talking to her. We hit it off pretty well. She was one of my very first approaches.
I closed and got her number. I called her and we set up a date.
As the date got closer, she contacted me and abruptly cancelled. Really no explanation except she was “really busy with work.”
But we all know what that means in fem-speak. She was spinning plates. And it’s okay for her to do that.
The old me would not have understood that. But we’re in Red Pill me time now.
I never heard from her again. Until…
Just recently, I had posted a updated workout pic as I am working very hard to improve my physique. Low and behold, I get a text from her.
“So how are you?”
Of course, my first text was, “who is this?” (I knew, but I also knew why she was texting)
“It’s Trish. I was thinking about you, wanted to see what you were up to.”
I replied coldly, “Doing my thing. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I was wanting to see if you wanted to meet up and get some coffee sometime.” she weakly stammered.
I responded directly. “I appreciate the offer, however, I really don’t make it a habit of going out with girls who cancel dates and never return texts or calls.”
She tried to apologize, but I wasn’t having it. I cut her off and said my goodbyes.
Anatomy of a Bandwagon Bitch
This whole situation was thought provoking for two reasons:
If this was the old me, I would’ve gone out with her in a split second and,
This was a textbook example of what the manosphere is always preaching about with hypergamy.
So before we go into the two issues above, let’s analyze the woman who was doing this above.
She’s 28, brunette, business professional. She’s hot enough to have 20-30 orbiters around her at all times for validation and ego enhancement. She won’t stay in one place for very long, having a ton of casual sex but not owning up to it, and when she does have a relationship, it lasts at most a few months. In a word, she’s “flighty.”
In her hummingbird world, there will always be a better man. Until there isn’t. In the female game of musical chairs just before her epiphany phase, she’s hedging her bets to get the best possible “beta bucks” all while having her last flings with alphas that she hopes to “change” before she hits the wall.
Women like this are fighting the inevitable, trying desperately to keep the epiphany phase at bay. But as we all know, the check comes due sooner rather than later.
Which is why I wasn’t the least bit surprised when this particular girl was coming up on my phone.
From eight months ago until now, I have improved my wardrobe, lost 20 pounds, and have been steadily improving my approaching, confidence, and demeanor. So I was at least aware of the possibility of this happening, however, what got me thinking was the TYPES of women who were coming back trying to “give me the pleasure of having her in her life” as one Bandwagon Bitch put it.
The few that have come crawling back try to trick themselves into thinking they aren’t crawling at all. As with all female solipsism examples like casual sex that doesn’t count or the universe representing only her views, they feel like now I’m “good enough” to include in their “spectacular” lives.
But the old me wouldn’t have figured this out. I would’ve been happy if a HB 7 came calling at all, and would’ve done all I could do to make it work, even when she cheated on me years later because she’s bored.
The societal landscape has changed.
These are single women essentially acting like single men. And we as a society are okay with that.
But as we shun single men because they “refuse” to settle down or “grow up”, we celebrate single women as powerful because they don’t do that. We aren’t empowering females by encouraging them to act like males, we’re killing the woman that lies naturally within her, cutting off nourishment.
The consequences of such a paradigm shift are starting to show.
I chose not to fall for the bull, and as with most things in the manosphere, knowledge is power, and she played right into obscurity.
Don’t Fall For It
The reason the manosphere talks so much about things like this is that they DO happen. And this is just another example of it. Knowing what to look for and how to avoid it can only help you achieve a level of awareness that will keep you focused when a girl of better attributes does enter your life.
However, the most disturbing thing about this is that, somewhere, at some point, some guy will take the bait and be stuck with this nightmare. And those are the men that I’m trying to reach everyday. They must not make this mistake, or they’re in for a world of hurt.
So as you’re working on your quality, be mindful that some girl you’ve approached or been intimate with is watching you and will be in touch again because you’re better than you were.
And without hesitation, please show this “Bandwagon Bitch” the door.
If she doesn’t like you when you’re at your worst, she doesn’t deserve you at your best.
Earlier this week I was caught in the social media cross hairs a bit after a tweet I sent rubbed some folks the wrong way. As a person who has struggled with weight for most of his life, I wanted to make a statement that was a bold conveyance of what I’ve been exposed to in my quest to be healthy. Fat shaming.
This particular tweet was met with resistance from so called “fat acceptance advocates” who recoiled in disgust that fat people couldn’t be considered attractive. But, especially in my experiences, the above is true. But no one wants to talk about it. So let’s talk about it.
Obesity stats are staggering in the United States. Nearly 66% of adults in the United States are overweight. That’s an increase of nearly 40% over the last 50 years. 70 million people (roughly 50/50 men/women) are obese, that’s about 20% of our population. 57 million adults are diagnosed as pre-diabetic, with 23 million now diabetic, and these numbers are predicted to go up as the health crisis of obesity affects more people. Life expectancy has gone down in large part to this epidemic. So what’s caused it?
With access to cheap, unhealthy food, and the severe lack of exercise and activity in children and adults in the United States, the problem only increases as we become more technologically savvy. These days, not only is the access to food easier, but you can now have it delivered. Cooking as a skill has vanished, and most folks eat out as in the early part of 2016, the food service industry reported nearly $750 billion in revenue.
Unhealthy foods are cheaper and access is easier than at any other time in history. This is fueling the fattening up of America, and my own experiences have helped to shape my views of this epidemic.
The Fat Pilled Dad
I’ve struggled with my weight my whole life.
When I started 6th grade, I was a whopping 220 lbs, but only 5’10”. I was bullied and harassed constantly as I also had ample man boobs. I was made fun of most every day, victimized simply because I was fat. I had the trifecta (fat, glasses, man boobs), so I wasn’t spared the punishments of bullies. This harassment then doubled in on itself, causing me to stress eat. It was a vicious cycle that many young Americans are going through now. I did, however, see a change as I started to get involved in sports and other activities in high school.
My sophomore year in high school, I shot up to 6″4, thereby making my fat disappear as it had more height to cover. I started to lean out as I continued to be involved in activities. This period in my life was my a good fitness time, where between high school and college, I was exercising pretty regularly. I played soccer, basketball, and racquetball, and was involved in marching band most of my high school career. I really started to see the benefits of exercise in this time, but my memory was short lived.
As I graduated high school and then college, I still had periods where I would be inactive and gain weight back. I would go between my target weight of 250 and back up to 280. I tried diets, and would again and again realize that my activity would seem to determine my weight loss. My senior year of college, I would leave class and do drive thru food everyday, sometimes eating 15-20 bucks worth of food. I didn’t go to the gym, and my inactivity was out kicking my caloric coverage. This yo-yo diet continued until my marriage in 2005.
After my marriage, the blue pilled beta took over and I ballooned to over 300 lbs. I would take down a large plate of nachos with ease, order 20-25 bucks worth of fast food, and continued my bad habits. My ex-wife didn’t like to cook, and although she was a dietitian, we would eat out at a record pace. My ex and I would have periods where we would get back into shape, doing Beachbody and getting back to the gym, but my diet would always hurt my progress. I flirted with 300 on several occasions after getting down to 270. Stress eating was the story of my life, with my sugar intake going crazy every time I was at work.
Then came my wake up call…
The Mortality Epiphany
I got the news one day at work.
A good friend of mine, a 40 year old divorced father of three, had suffered a massive heart attack, and died. Andy was a great guy, and this three kids lost an amazing person. He had just been through a terrible divorce after his wife cheated on him, and was engaged to another woman who we really didn’t support as his next wife. It connects that most men who are blue pilled suffer from obesity issues. But he was just trying to live his life and move on, start over. And just like that, he was gone.
I was in the middle of a separation with my wife, and at 39 years old, and as a father of two, I was shaken. This was a man who’d eaten about the same way I had, had also been a high school football star, and was very close to me in his life habits and experiences. This type of thing could happen to me. And where would my kids be? Where would this leave them?
This was officially the low point of my life. I tipped the scales at 305 lbs. and was in the midst of severe depression. My kids, upon hearing the news of my friend’s death, told me they were worried about me. They didn’t want their dad to end up in the same way. Nothing shocks a system more than listening your kids tell you that they’re worried about your health.
“Dad, we love you and we don’t want you to die.”
The Long Fight Back
So, I had to do something. Along with my kid’s concerns, my ex-wife’s insults of my weight, and even women I was trying to date commenting that “they don’t date or sleep with fat guys,” I knew what I had to do.
I’ve often extolled the benefits of therapy in my blog, and once again, I was helped in yet another way by it. One day, not long after my children expressed their concerns, my psychologist told me straight up, “You’re fat. you’ve been fat most of your life. Why don’t you change that?” I was speechless. I was being fat shamed by my doctor…
“The nerve”, I thought. But what could I do? He was correct. I needed to get this done and never look back. So on the eve on my 42nd birthday, at a bit over 295 lbs, I finally committed to my new life. I renewed my gym membership. I started walking during work. I turned down the donuts. I started cooking more. My meal preps would be legendary. More water was consumed. I started intermittent fasting. The weight started to come off. My clothes were fitting looser. I watched my pants size drop from 42 to 38. In a matter of 6 months, I dropped close to 30 lbs, and went from 40% body fat to 29.9%.
It was happening, finally. I was doing it.
My gym commitment jumped from cardio two times a week to 4-5 days a week strength training. My meal prep included less carbs, and more veggies and protein. I was learning. I was reading. I was doing it.
Today, I’m down to 265 lbs. I’ve lost 40 lbs, and 5 inches off my waist. I still have work to do, but I’m feeling the best I’ve ever felt. I’m in better shape than men 10 years younger than me.
I do a ton of body weight exercises, as well as squats and dead lifts. Strength training, meal prep, and intermittent fasting have been my go to’s. My goal is 250lbs and 15 – 18% body fat. And also the ability to be active with my kids, as well as inspire them to stay healthy. My poor relationship with food has been replaced by my kids and I cooking healthy meals together. They will respect the food they put in their body, as well as the importance of being active.
So back to the crux of this blog post. Fat shaming worked for me. It took everyone telling me they were concerned about my health, and several women I was interested in telling me straight up that they weren’t attracted to fat guys to get me to take action. The shaming felt bad enough to get me to make a change, finally, especially when I had a decent support system to do this.
I will say this. Every person out there who’s had a problem with weight their whole lives needs to see a therapist. Being fat is not only a physical problem, but it’s primarily a psychological one. Low self esteem fuels the collapse into terrible eating habits and lack of activity. So getting in to see a good shrink is paramount to starting your weight loss journey. I would also recommend a personal trainer who pushes you. People need to get out of their comfort zones, and with fat shaming, it really pushes people to take control and make progress. So yes, I’m saying that fat shaming is a good thing.
The Fat Acceptance Phenomenon
Just like those who avoid asking a girl out due to their overwhelming fear of rejection, fat people have accepted that they’re fat while fearing the work and pain it takes to get themselves back into shape.
So, the relatively new Fat Acceptance movement has come about. A fear has promoted a movement, and it’s growing day by day. It’s also a symptom of the JBY (Just Be Yourself) movement, stifling other options for being a better person and getting active and fit. Now, just like feminism, it promotes an atmosphere of fat people as a minority status, even giving them protected minority status with the likes of LGBT movement.
Fat people should not be treated as a protected class. They aren’t. Fat acceptance is treating an obvious mental and physical health disorder as something that should be celebrated. Ill health should not be celebrated. It should be treated. So yes, I’m with the women who fat shamed me. It’s not attractive to be fat. It’s not sexy to be fat. Fatness is a turn off. And most importantly, it’s unhealthy. It’s not like being gay, lesbian, trans or a minority. It’s not a class of people. It’s a poor state of body and mind.
The newest reach of the fat acceptance genre is the “dad bod”. We’re told by countless magazines that the dad bod is in. It’s not. It’s still unhealthy, and in general experience, women want a six pack ab set over a dicky-doo any day.
So, America, you need to be fat shamed. I’m taking action to correct my lifelong issues with weight. I’m still working on it, but I know I’m going to get there. So start seeing your mental health professionals, set up a meeting with a personal trainer, and start eating like your life depends on it.
As an unplugged Red Piller of almost a year now, I can confidently say that I’ve learned an incredible amount of great information from the Manosphere over that time.
Rollo officially opened my eyes, but many others continue to work the Red Pill everyday. Rian Stone, Andrew Tate, Alan Roger Currie, Goldmund, Alexander JA Cortes, Richard Cooper, Hunter Drew, Donovan Sharpe, Anthony Dream Johnson, the list goes on for miles of influences I continue to draw upon for my Red Pill awareness and evolution. Almost all of them are linked in my side bar. I encourage you to check all of them out immediately. The information, products, and services they provide are invaluable to all men.
This latest installment of my blog will explore what happens before the Red Pill, as the stories I tell you here today are actual experiences I have had in my life. One thing that I do as the Red Pill Dad is I try to be as real as I can be. My trials and tribulations as a blue pill beta in the past are 100% factual, and you’ll soon realize why I needed the red pill.
If you feel like you aren’t a Blue Pill, chances are, you probably are. I didn’t think I was for a long time, but as I gradually became unplugged, I realized some of the things I did as a Beta would be fodder for what not to do in Manosphere blogs and forums for years to come.
These stories are an embarrassing admission of how terribly blue pilled I was, and how truly lost men can be without the help of other unplugged men.
These are not only meant to be amusing but also, they are meant to be a warning to any Blue Pill Beta. Unplugging is your best bet to getting the life you want, and we in the Manosphere aren’t just spouting off bullshit, these are real life situations to avoid.
We talk a lot over on the Manosphere about “Killing the Beta“, as Rollo so succinctly puts it. But it’s a serious problem. Thousands of men commit suicide every year because their lives are empty shells, the Beta mindset has taken over, and they feel there’s only one way out. They lash out at a world they don’t understand, all because the Feminine Imperative wishes to have them as breeding stock for the upper hand against masculinity.
You’ve never been told, so you don’t know. So blissfully ignorant of the world built around you, they say you’re not important. You shouldn’t have a say.
Well, we think you should. You should have a huge say in how you live your life. That’s why I do what I do, and that’s why the Manosphere continues to grow. Men want the truth, and they want their lives back.
Red Pill Dad as a Pathetic Beta
So here we go. Here are my stories of beta fails with women, and how staggering the opportunity costs were to my whole life. I’m where I am now because of my life choices as a beta. But I’m also heading in a new direction and I now control my destiny, something I couldn’t have even fathomed some 11 months ago:
I first kissed a girl at age 18, after a high school dating career that involved me going with my parents on a date with a girl at 15
I got my first blowjob from a drugged up college skank at 21.
I had three “girlfriends” in high school, none of which I kissed. I just bought them dinner and we hung out watching TV. I was too shy to make a move.
I had oneitis several times. My first oneitis was a girl I had known through mutual friends in middle school and through high school. She friendzoned me immediately, and I still tried to pursue her for over 6 years. During that time, she slept with two of my best friends, and I spent thousands of dollars I didn’t have trying to impress her, even going into over 5k of credit card debt to take her out, and jacking my father’s BMW convertible to try to impress her.
In college, I continued the trend. I got oneitis on another girl whom I pursued and tried to hook up with. She slept with my college roommate, with me in the room one night, and bragged that she could trust me as a friend to not watch her do such things with my roommate. Yes, I was a complete sexless loser.
Another girl I fell for was barraged with requests from me asking her to go out. She refused. So, instead of nexting her, I prank called her at least 20 times a day. She never knew it was me, but I stalked her cold until my next oneitis. I did this with one other oneitis until she found out it was me and had her boyfriend call me to threaten me.
I dated 4 fat girls in college, and never had sex with any of them. Fat girls were the only girls I could get, if any, because I myself was fat, had glasses, and was tepid with women. At 6’4″, 320 lbs, I wasn’t much to look at.
I worked at a local restaurant as a busboy for about 3 years while attending college. I caught oneitis for a girl there and came in dressed in a suit and tie with flowers to try and impress her. I had to do dishes that night, so I ruined my outfit, and also never got to sleep with her. But her abusive boyfriend got a good fucking that night.
I started to get out of my shell around 2002, dating around a bit. I actually dated a girl for over 6 months, and never kissed her until the very end of our “relationship”.
I met my ex-wife of 10 years in 2003. I met her on eHarmony, and as we were both desperate (me to prove I could get laid, and her because her biological clock was on blast), I finally lost my virginity at 27 years of age.
My marriage sex lasted about 2 years, then it dwindled down to about once every six months. At the time of my divorce, I had had sex with my wife 6 times between 2010 and 2016. During that time, she let me pay for porn.
After my divorce, the blue pill blues continued. I dated a woman I worked with, we had great sex for about three months, then she ended it. I caught oneitis yet again, and went so far as to purchase over $1,000 worth of jewelry and gifts to try to get her back. Needless to say, she was turned off by my neediness.
I fell for a server at a local bar and tipped her over $500 on a bill just so she’d sleep with me. As you probably guessed, she didn’t. She had sex with her boyfriend that night, confident she had just fleeced a dumbass of his money. It was when she started hinting that she wanted to buy new furniture for her house to me that I finally got wise (or did I?)
I wanted to date a woman with four kids (four fucking kids…I already have two!)
I dated a 200 lb female dominatrix and became her sub for about 3 months
Certainly there is more, but you get the general idea of who I was for quite a long time. And while this may seem pretty bad, there is worse going on out there to men just like me. They have no direction, they have no sense of purpose, and they have no way out. But there is a way.
The Red Pill Will Set You Free
Terrifying, isn’t it? As I look back to my past, I wonder how the hell I ever made it as far as I have in as short of a time as I have. While I’m certainly not where I want to be, I’m working towards my goals diligently.
Today, I’m approaching with more regularity. The HB quality of women I hit on has increased dramatically. I don’t let thirst dictate my moves. My life has become mine again, and I’m still fighting everyday. It can be done, I’m living proof of that. I finally have a purpose, and it’s to help others who have been in my situation and need a way out.
There has been a lot of talk on Twitter and in general about the usefulness of being Red Pill aware. For me, it’s been absolutely necessary for me to be unplugged, as the alternative above is about as bad as you can get. The Red Pill has released me from a life spent mindlessly blowing resources for sex I won’t get, careers I won’t have, or money I can’t spend.
There are purple pill gurus, incels, MGTOW, black pill, clear pill etc that continue to criticize the red pill and what it stands for. But there is no other alternative. It’s either the blue pill or the red one.
There is either truth or fiction. That’s it. No amount of watering down or bargaining it off is going to change that.
So, again, if you’re doing any of the above stunts, you’re a blue pilled beta, and you need to unplug now. Your life will not get any better hoping for fiction. It needs a healthy dose of the red pill.
After my separation and eventual divorce in 2015 and 2016, I was in a new place. It had been a decade since I had managed any experience in the dating world, and as a horrible blue pilled plug-in, I had done online dating (eHarmony) to land the languished piece of crap I had just divorced myself from. I had zero experience with women, still, and had not attempted to unplug myself. So here I was, officially single again, with only blue pill basics to help me navigate the dating world. I was fucked. And not in the good way.
So what did I do? Well, I drifted. I dated little in the following months, actually meeting and dating a dominatrix 5 with BPD, a clingy six with daddy issues, and a one night stand with a decent 6. Essentially, the bottom of the barrel in terms of what I could, and knew I should, be able to pull. I thought this is what it was all about. It was all very pathetic.
Blue Pill men these days are in a similar predicament, not because it’s the true nature of the current dating scene, but it’s the inability of these men to see anything else. Being plugged in means accepting this “reality” as what it is, as it’s all they know. And it’s exactly what women want. Tinder and similar dating apps have become a tool for female hypergamy, weeding out the betas from the alphas. It’s just another screening process for women, only now, beta men are not only tolerating it, but their unending thirst is also putting women who shouldn’t be there on a pedestal. 4’s and 5’s who shouldn’t be getting a second look now have hundreds of beta orbiters. So why is it this way?
It didn’t use to be. Before the advent of the right swipe, men were more than their thirst. They had a purpose, drive, and ambition, three things that are extremely sexually arousing to women. But men, especially the blue pill types, became lazy. Porn streams instantly to their finger tips, and now, they can peruse women without having to do the hard stuff, approaching and actually talking to a woman. Instead of continuing to pursue a full life, men sat back and let women fill the void, corrupting the online dating world in the process, turning it into just another shit test. And on top of that, men are programmed by the Feminine Imperative to believe that 8’s and 9’s are out of their league, so alas, they settle for being the head of the fan club of a solid 5-6, orbiting forever. How fucking depressing.
So how do I now navigate this dating world as a single, Red Pill father? I don’t. I dictate my own life, and let the dating world come to me. I have to do three things. I unplug. I improve, and I approach.
When you are a high value, high quality man, you will have your choice of women. But this comes with a serious caveat. You have to get to the high quality, high value parts first. This means working on three aspects of your game. And it’s not a road map either, you can and will need to do all three things at once. It’s not a set of directions, it’s a set of inflections.
As we in the manosphere always preach, unplugging is a primary step in getting out of this wickedly depressing cycle. When a man unplugs, he sees the dating world for what it actually is, and realizes it’s about him. It’s about what he’ll tolerate. It’s about what he’ll accept. And when he realizes he doesn’t have to accept this bullshit, he then can move on to opening his world up to new avenues. When you say “no” to the current state of the dating world, you are now wresting control of your life from the FI and all its pitfalls. Until you’re truly unplugged, you cannot fulfill the preliminary part of your contract with yourself. Being true and honest to yourself will help you to be true and honest with others, so this, quite frankly, the biggest hurdle to hit first.
As the hard truths become apparent to you while being unplugged, you will have to realize these truths in your own life, and do something about them. Here are some of the hard red pill truths to the dating world:
Hypergamy doesn’t care.
Women will not approach you.
Nice guys finish last.
Women want to be led, they don’t want to lead.
You are your top priority, not getting a girlfriend.
Being yourself doesn’t work. You must be a better version of yourself.
The last one is apropos for the dating world. Nothing tips the scales in your favor like being an attractive, successful, unabashed man. So get to work. Get to the gym, eat right, sleep fully, get your ambition going. You are the catalyst for all of your success. The waiting for success doesn’t get you there. You will slowly, steadily build confidence in your life, and it will affect every aspect of it. As you build, and you must build one brick at a time, and it will take time, you will become more than you are now. And this excites the shit out of women. Don’t believe me? Keep reading.
Yes, sir! The dreaded “a” word. After all of that work to get yourself to where you are, you still, even while you are striving to bring change to yourself, have to approach. You can choose several avenues. There’s daygaming, which is approaching during the day (office, street, shops, etc.) or gaming at night, which is the Mystery Method way of doing things (among many others). But even after he got the girl, Mystery still struggled with beta tendencies in his failed long term relationships. It’s about the man behind the game, and he must be strong.
The bottom line is: you have to work with what you’re comfortable with, however, you MUST APPROACH. And, gasp, you must open yourself up to consistent REJECTION. No matter how good you look, how successful you are, how amazing you are in bed, YOU WILL GET REJECTED. Swallow your pride, and do it. This is one of the hardest truths for a beta to swallow. They base their entire existence on being accepted by women, and after their first rejection, they fall out and want to plug back in. It’s a hard truth that MUST be learned. It was a truth that I still grapple with in certain situations to this day, and approach anxiety is very real. But the only way to overcome your fear is to do it, and keep doing it until it becomes second nature. There will be good days and bad, but keep swinging, studying, and analyzing, and you’ll get a hit, and maybe a home run. Before long, you’ll be a power hitter.
So, where do you go from here? It’s really up to you. I want to stress that you can meet plenty of women without online dating, the old fashioned way, by opening your life up to improvement and new experiences. The old adage of love yourself before you love another really applies here. Men need to start swiping right on their own lives, and not on a solid 5 with two kids. When men start taking responsibility for themselves, and righting the wrongs they’ve made in their life, women will start to take notice. As women’s Instagram and Tinder matches start drying up, they’ll soon realize that the jig is up. Men are back, stronger than ever, and making these thots extinct. But until then, we have to keep working to unplug one man at a time. It will take time, but it will be worth it.
So start looking inward to your own world, and making it yours. You never, ever, need a woman to be happy. A woman is a compliment to a full masculine life. Your goal has and always will be your happiness, and not being a woman’s accessory. You’re better than that. So life awaits, get out there and make something happen.
Photo Credit: Hulu – Masters of the Universe – Mattel
As I write this today, I think back to when I was a blue-pilled, weak willed beta. It was a miserable time for me, but at that particular moment in my life, I had no clue I was miserable.
Being plugged in as I was, completely immersed in a world that I thought I had created, I had no idea what empowerment was. My ex-wife had the power, as well as dominating female relatives who, through no fault of their own, propagated a fem-centric male role for me, where I drifted day to day in a role of what I was told I was supposed to be in. As a blue pill beta, I was told this was the pinnacle of life for me (kids, wife, job, expensive house). It was very depressing.
What’s important to remember here is I was responsible for my blue pill conditioning. I was. I allowed myself to be taken advantage of by willing participants, whether they were complicit or not, and refused to take responsibility for my own life. This happens to many blue pill betas, they are ghosts in their own life, never making a decision to live for themselves, merely another gear in the machine.
Through therapy and my own research, I decided to learn more about what it means to be a blue pill beta, still hooked in, and decided to do something about it. What’s funny is that most betas will be exposed to Red Pill Theory and scoff at it, not take it seriously, and ignore it. While providing the information is really all RPT gurus can do, it’s only when the beta decides to take the step to unplug that change can truly happen. So, you have self-empowerment.
In the months following my divorce, my blue pill conditioning seldom wavered. I had not changed, and the women I dated simply saw an opportunity to grab up a brain dead beta who wasn’t empowering himself, but I was simply floating down waiting for someone to come in my life to make it better.
And this is one of the largest fallacies with blue pill conditioning:
It’s not the fault of everyone else, it’s yours. You are responsible for your own life.
When going through Red Pill Detox, most betas will blame their surroundings on their circumstances, and this is a natural reaction to being unplugged. I experienced this, becoming MGTOW (Men Going Their Own Way) and shutting what I thought was external toxicity in the form of over-bearing siblings, parents, ex-partners, friends, and co-workers. I had one last blue pill hurrah with a feminist and was dumped because I was too beta. A feminist dumping me because I was too beta? Good God, I was a mess.
I went ghost (which I do recommend at some point in your life for self-reflection – another post :)) and moved on with my life. After two months of intense study of literature and self-reflection, I realized it wasn’t my environment or the folks around me, it was me…period.
My life is what I make it. If I choose to live under the thumb of the Feminine Imperative as a cuck beta, regardless of how twisted and unfair the environment where I’m raised is, it’s on me. Now, the information needs to be more readily available for blue pills to educate themselves, but it’s not like the FI has a monopoly on information. Great RP authors, speakers, educators, and theorists exist and are at your disposal. The last step you have to take, as will everything else you will encounter in your life, is yours.
So after my MGTOW phase (and that’s all it ever should be, a phase), I continued to study and learn more about my ongoing unplugging. Little did I know, I was empowering myself. Slowly and steadily, I was taking back control of my life. The first step was setting boundaries. I had lines I would not allow anyone to cross, and when they did, it was only a short time until they were out of my life, or had very little influence in it.
The second step was enforcing those boundaries, all while creating new ones. As each new border was created, new people would enter my life, while ones who didn’t like this new me left. A paradigm shift was occurring, and as in The Matrix, I could finally see it. I could finally see the whole playing field, the stands, the sky, the other players, all of it.
Clarity in one’s life comes at a price, and that price is comfort.
It was not a comfortable time. Friends and family were questioning me, making my unplugging more and more uncomfortable. Unplugging is tough, because not only do you know the truth, you live it. You see people for who they really are, who they really support, and who was rooting for you versus who wanted what you could provide as a blue pill.
I continue to this day to continue empowering myself. I make no excuses for who I am, what I represent, and what I believe. This is true empowerment. But it’s my life and it’s on my terms, and what could be more empowering that having control of your own destiny?
Recently, I’ve seen quite a few posts on SoSuave and other manosphere forums about Hypergamy and how important a role it plays in our current dating atmosphere in 2018.
Hypergamy, as it’s definition states, is “the action of marrying a person of a superior caste or class.” However, in using it with respect to today’s Western civilization terms, it is an innate, involuntary response by females to seek out a mate of high quality. Most of the time, depending on her sexual market value and where she is in that process, she’ll either fall for the alpha male, or the best beta male she can get.
While this can be a daunting situation to deal with, for the beta male, it is insurmountable. With a beta male’s lack of confidence, lack of leadership, lack of masculinity, hypergamy takes no prisoners. Many a beta has seen his hopes dashed after a quick bout of oneitis has manifested itself, then turned into anger and frustration after his precious lady has jumped on an alpha’s cock. After all, Hypergamy doesn’t care.
So what is one to do? Many of the posts I’ve seen put hypergamy into an all powerful, unassailable obstacle. This drives men to claim they have no control over the effects of hypergamy, leading them down the path of incels, looksmaxing, and general misogyny.
So how can men react to this evolutionary ideal? By bettering themselves.
Look, I can’t give you a silver bullet. Women are driven by finding the best male they can. No matter how hard you try, there will always be someone better than you.
But, using self enrichment, you can become the best version of yourself, thereby increasing your chances with hotter and hotter women. Find a hobby. Focus on your career. WORK OUT. Read. Learn. When you have knowledge, you gain confidence. Women will start to take notice of your newest advantages. And suddenly, a woman in your life will not be the most important thing, just another benefit of your new outlook.
It works. Experience for me is the greatest teacher. Last year, I dated a girl for about 3 months and was a complete beta. She dumped me, and it was then I decided to work on me, find myself, learn, grow. Now, with this new found confidence, improved physique, and knowledge I’ve afforded myself, the attraction from other women is real.
Do this. It’s not a woman’s fault if she’s not attracted to you. It’s yours. Get off your ass and get to work.
My extensive knowledge of this subject comes from Rollo Tomassi and the Rational Male. He is the best authority I know for matters of the man. Check out his blog and also read his books.
I’ve lived most of my life as a Beta, or AFC (Average Frustrated Chump).
Weak willed, I developed one-itis on every occasion a woman struck my fancy. In high school and through college, I was smitten with one girl whom I hoped would someday say yes to me, and we could live happily ever after. After her fucking two of my close friends, I kept myself up wondering:
“Why couldn’t this girl like me? I was so nice to her, I did everything she asked, I was always available to talk.”
“This was how I was told it was supposed to be. Everyone told me this.”
One day, after all the stress to myself, I snapped. I blew up at her. She had LJBF’d (Let Just Be Friends) me so many times, I couldn’t handle it. Needless to say, we stopped talking and the friendship ended.
This set the tone for my life. Same story. Girls would friend-zone me after I would not declare my intentions, I would stew about it while she fucked my friends, then I would blow up at her. Rinse, repeat.
In late 2003, I met my ex-wife. I was so ensconced in my Beta male life, I had to go to on-line dating. I thought everyday about having a girlfriend. I thought this was the apex of my life, why I lived. And the worst part of it was, I was just beginning to come out of my shell (finally) and see some Red Pill truths, but just as I was, I was pulled back down.
I lost my virginity at 27 to my ex-wife. I had finally gotten laid. I had finally found my soulmate.
For 10 years, I lived in Beta male bliss. Sex with my ex-wife diminished to the point that she allowed me to purchase porn movies and subscriptions. I had two kids with her, and lived my life as if this was how it was supposed to be. AFC style. I had it down.
Then a few years ago, I made a fateful decision. After attending therapy for some anger issues (AFC anger), I had an epiphany. I was unhappy in my marriage. I should be having sex, I shouldn’t just be the guy who brings home the check, kisses his wife on the cheek, and gets busy on the “Honey do” list. So after this revelation, I sat up in bed one very cold winter evening, and told my ex-wife, “It’s over. I want a divorce.”
She was speechless. At first, she was desperate. She saw her meal ticket flying away. I had helped her pay off her student loans, her car, and her many different job skills that she had tried and quit. She didn’t respect me, I was a clown. I rolled over for her, we seldom fought because of this.
The worst problem? My kids didn’t respect me. They watched as time and time again, I rolled over to my ex-wife. I went to work, I came home, grabbed my list of her demands, and got to work. Had I not had therapy, I would have died this way. Being plugged in is not a way to live a life.
Now I was getting a voice, and she wasn’t happy.
We went to couples therapy. My mind was set. I needed to move on. My life was too short to live this way.
I had lived 37 years as a Beta male. Was this the turning point? Could I finally live my life for me?