Welcome to my blog. This is post number one. I’ve already revised it three times, this writing this is difficult. In the end I decided just to plough on so here we go..
The subject matter of this blog will be my journey from failure-with-women to not-failure-with-women. Dare I say ‘PUA’? Maybe not, but at least somebody with options.
Options. That’s a word I hear a lot now in ‘the community’. Men want options. Take a look at modern life in London. You commute, you work, you sleep, you repeat. You go out to bars and it doesn’t seem too friendly. You’ve never been that great with women so you just get lashed and talk to your mates. What’s your plan to get a girlfriend? Well for most people in London I’m pretty sure their plan amounts to:
Live normal life, hope will meet someone eventually through work or friends.
Hardly a life of choice and abundance. Ever wondered why the divorce rate is so high?
Time to clarify. This is not a blog about Mr Average trying to become Mr Options. This is about Mr Failure becoming Mr Options. To put a fine point on it the ‘woman’ side of my life has always been a disaster. It started going wrong a long, long time ago. We’re not in “40 Year Old Virgin” territory, I’ve had a few serious relationships with attractive women, but they have been few and far between. Generally the gaps between partners have been measured in multiple years. Most of my life has been sexless except the times when I was in a relationship or in China where there were plenty of “friendly barbershops” for the discerning gentleman.
I was the guy who at sixth form never got within two feet of a girl. Arriving at University I became infatuated with an ugly girl and became her puppy dog for about two years while she screwed everything that moved. The first snog of my life was in third year at University, with the girl who soon after took my virginity. I got my first real girlfriend age twenty four. It lasted two weeks and I dumped her because I couldn’t handle it. Years passed. I went out with another girl I didn’t fancy, who was a bitch, because I had no other options. Lasted seven months including the two month split in the middle where she screwed someone else. Years passed. I was running the “hope to meet someone” plan. Eventually I met a Taiwanese girl when I was doing my Master’s at University and went out with her for a year. Was in love. It was great. I went normal. We split up. Years passed. Realising all I’d done to pull the Taiwenese girl was ‘be myself’ I determined Asian women were the way to go. I coupled this with my desire to work and live abroad and moved to China for work. Being sh1t and lame I managed to not get laid very much there (for free) but to my credit did have a serious relationship for 10 months with a wonderful, beautiful Chinese girl. The second loving relationship of my life.
During this time I noticed a few trends:
Unfancieable
My lack of success with women seemed to make me give off anti-women radar. It seems like I was incapable of attracting any woman. The more I tried the more I revolted them.
Bitter
Continued lack of success, inability to in any way shape who I could end up with, gradually turned me from a loving, funny, sensitive guy into a twisted, bitter, corrupted, poisoned person. I felt like I was constantly struggling with my inner battle between the good and the dark side of the force.
Poisoned
Even if everything else was going OK in my life this failure was making me depressed and full of hate so I couldn’t really enjoy the other stuff.
Sexually frustrated
I’m sure the crime rate is high ‘cos women don’t f**k that much anymore. Anyway sexual frustration is a terrible thing. It makes men go funny.
Hating western women
You try and try to get a woman for years. They don’t want you. You meet a cute Taiwanese girl and just be yourself and she wants you. No alpha behaviours. No cockiness. No self-confidence. You’re just ‘nice’. The sort of thing that sickens Western woman. And you get her, and her magazine-body and loving nature. You love Asian women. You go to China and pull one of the most beautiful and intelligent women you’ve ever known. You develop a deep hatred of Western women. It’s THEM. They’re ‘wrong’. Western women are f**ked up. They’re screwed in the head. Forget them.
Even more unfancieable
And we’re pretty much into the negative feedback cycle here. A few years of this and you become an awful, creepy soulless man. Staring at women, mumbling under your breath. Secretly hating them and lusting after them. When you talk to them your body language reeks of self esteem issues and neediness. The instinctively hate you. Think Philip Seymour Hoffman in “Happiness”.
And ….. STOP.
Late last year I realised this had all ruined a large portion of my life so far and if it continued would ruin the rest of it. Then I read a book called ‘The Game’.
HOLY SH1T.
This book is legendary. A failure with women, just like I was, studies ‘Pick Up Artistry’ and transforms himself into a PUA (Pick-Up Artist). And drowns in women.
This can be learned?
I read the book with wonder. It all started to become clear why I hadn’t been successful with girls. I realised why they hadn’t gone for me. This was not all just about them. Things started to become clear.
Then I admitted to myself that actually I hadn’t given them that much of a chance. I mean how often had I actually gone up and talked to women? A couple of times in my life. In fact this had become a pathological phobia for me. I’d have rather got in a fight in a bar than approach a girl. I was sick of the bitterness. I was sick of the hate, the frustration. I didn’t want to live like that.
I formulated a plan. It would be my experiment.
I was going to transform myself. I was going to research this stuff and learn all the tricks. I was going to go out and fight through my phobias and actually practice talking to women. I was going to do this in London and I was going to give ‘western women’ a proper go and actually admit for the first time in 10 years that yes, I really want a fit western girlfriend, and then I was going to go talk to some.
“Ego defence mechanism” is a behaviour where people intentionally disqualify themselves to prevent the pain of rejection. I think for most of my life I’ve been behaving like this. I dunno what started it but I’ve always been ‘the joker’ or ‘the weird one’. Revelled in it. Wrap that blanket tighter. If you’re the weird one then you’re never out there so you can never be rejected. If you don’t even talk to women then you don’t give them a chance to reject you.
So…
all that goes.
Time to give myself a fighting chance.
The experiment is this:
Phase A
-research PUA stuff
-wipe the slate clean with women
-give myself a break, learn to like myself and stop deliberately acting weird to disqualify myself and instead give myself a fighting chance
-actually really try and pull women
-give this a go for around eight months
-this is the most important thing in my life as it can make the difference between having a family or dying alone
If I get no success then
Phase B
-Move to a Scandinavian or eastern European country and work there or in a few of them for another year, in the hope that women ‘over there’ are more amenable to me than British ones
If no success then
Phase C
-Move to Taiwan, Hong Kong or Singapore and get Chinese girlfriend. Marry her and have kids.
And so it begins. Watch this space!
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