It’s been a busy week. Glad that I have a day off to reflect and get back to writing. I was afraid this was going to happen. But, hey . . . such is the lot of the busy professional with little time (at times).
Some liken a blog to a kind of online diary. I think this was more the case in the early days of the interwebz, before blogs and when hosting services like Angelfire served up static pages with shitty graphics. Ugh . . . glad that blogs have a more uniform sense of style.
Is my blog my diary? Dunno. As I said in my very first post, I’m giving this about a year to find my bearings in the ‘sphere. Though I don’t consider myself unique, some of the problems that I’ve encountered in my life are somewhat unique. Isn’t everyone’s.
Anyway, cut to the chase . . .
When I first started getting into the thing we call the Manosphere, my life prior to it was somewhat blissful and somewhat chaotic. In 2010, I was focused on getting a job after spending nine months unemployed (but on unemployment insurance, thankfully, with several thousand bucks in the bank as a cushion). Once that chaos subsided, then it was time to start dating since I didn’t have much time for it in the years prior due to other priorities. I also had seem some things concerning women that kicked my INTP self into action in an effort to understand just what the fuck was going on. Oh, was I in for a ride.
Like most guys who have taken the Red Pill, the months prior to seeing how all this was playing out were confusing. With one chick, I made the classic mistake of texting her too many times to the point where she curtly told me that I was exhibiting stalkerish behavior and that she, under no circumstances, was going to go out with me. Intellectually, I could see what I was doing, but flubbed it up, regardless. First lesson learned.
There was another woman, 38 and quite attractive, that I met on OKCupid. A divorced Ph.D. in economics. She and I went out once and then back to my place for more wine. I threw her on the bed, making out, and almost tore her clothes off, but then she pulled the, “I have to get home to my kids” maneuver, and I let her go. She and I chatted on Yahoo for a day or so after that night, until I realized that she was wasting my time and cut her off. That I had the sense to see.
Before her, there was another woman, also late 30s, who I IM’ed with on OKCupid, and who made me jump through hoops so that she could tell that I “wasn’t a stalker.” What bullshit. But, I kept IMing her when I should have cut it off much earlier. Again, another lesson learned.
And, all through learning about the ‘sphere and the Red Pill, I questioned myself rigorously. It’s the hallmark of being an INTP. Advance the theory and find the fact to support the theory. The theory was how worthless I am as a man trying to date and get laid. The facts were women behaving badly. Little did I know that it wasn’t all me.
One thing that troubled me for a while (and still does) is age. At the beginning of my contemporary dating journey, I questioned whether I was going to be attractive to a wide range of women. What could I do to increase my chances? I had lost about 20 pounds, and so returned to a very good fighting weight, close to what I was in my 20s, but with more muscle and more definition. But, would that be enough? Would changing my wardrobe (which, embarrassingly, hand’t changed since my 20s) make much of a difference? How about attitude? How much of that could I change, especially since I’ve never been the most socially adept or warmest person that people have met? Would being the quiet intellectual work better than the party animal?
Turns out, I was able to date a variety of women in the past two years, including a couple of foreigners. Most were over 30, but there were a couple of late 20-somethings that entered into the picture. I have yet to date (and bang) many under 25s. Notches.
Still, despite this, age is something that plays on my mind. Sure, when I was in my 20s, it didn’t bother me (except in the case of ageism against the young). Now, it bothers me more. I take it to be just the classic awareness that there’s not as much time left as there once was. So, how am I going to spend it? I have yet to find the best answer. But, I keep trying.