Tagged: adventure

The Problem With Nightclubs

I will attend night clubs when my other options are shot for the night, or because my friends have found themselves attracted to these particular venues for the night, but as a gentleman who does enjoy banging women, I would say that I have probably picked up two women in all my time going to night clubs. The pick up culture has this over-exaggerated view of how powerful it is to learn their tricks and then go into night clubs and use said tricks. I believe most worthwhile men who have built interesting lifestyles usually avoid nightclubs if they are looking to get laid simply because all your life experiences cannot be conveyed in an environment too loud and dark to display them.

As much as a girl might get vagina tingles at your push and pull techniques, those techniques do not work when the music is so loud she is blankly nodding in hopes you’ll fuck off. In addition, a lot of women automatically engage in deflecting anyone who approaches them no matter who they are in a night club; I assume this to be some ego thing for them. At this stage in my life, I do not care any-more to dedicate energy in trying to overcome women’s deflections, and simply disengage all together by keeping my approaches at a minimal in night clubs. I would prefer to talk to women in an environment where they are receptive to stimulation beyond EDM and party favours.

Simply, unless you are high energy as fuck and willing to be over-persistent, night clubs are a poor venue to get dates/bangs from. The issue with pick up is that many guys who go into it are not at their core these superfluous party animals, and those who act this way going into pick up material probably do so to over compensate for their lack of self worth (no research on this, just anecdotal observation). That is not to say that you cannot get laid at a night club, but unless you’re willing to put in an insane amount of energy (that is often hampered by alcohol consumption), your chances of getting laid are slim.

Now, there are gentlemen who excel at club game. As I said above, being high energy and over persistent works quite well in the club arena, and a slew of respect goes out to gentlemen who can pull doing this. My argument however is that clubs make poor venues for the gentlemen who do not want to follow this over-the-top narrative. Keep in mind the principle of contrast, and how standing out equates to status. Clubs assume a lot, it is assumed that men will generally go to these places to pick up women, and women and men come to expect this narrative as being normal. Unless you are playing the numbers game quite closely, chances are most women will assume you are like every other single male going the club, and thus you do not stand out from any other male there; poor contrast. However, when you approach women with more direct appraisals in more casual contexts, even laid back bars or house parties, women are less expecting of this and in turn look at you as standing out from most men; high contrast. You lose a lot of contrast going to night clubs.

My counter-venue to clubs are simple: house parties. House parties are the best venues for getting laid. You can talk, you can effectively work the room, and women are not naturally expecting men to approach them sexually (like they often are at a night club), and If all else fails, you can lay back and have interesting discussions with others on an array of topics. Night clubs lack all of these variables.

The second alternative to house parties are lounge bars. While they do carry some of the preconceived notions that clubs do (you’re just there to get laid), you must keep in mind that the women who stick around at these places are often looking for some level of stimulating conversation, so even if their guard is up about your sexual intentions, you can still prove yourself by conveying your interesting persona.

This was originally a post of mine on another gentleman’s blog, but I thought this was a worthwhile topic to discuss since I see a large portion of the manosphere still dedicated to club game. In addition, I have edited and added to this post as I see fit.

The True Sexual Nature of Women

I like feminine women. I like women who enjoy doing feminine things like taking care of the home, women who laugh with a girly energy, and women who get excited about children. Something about that, to me as a man, excites me. While most of my reports will have you believe that I fuck a lot of women who aren’t the feminine definition that this write up is about, I do spend a considerable amount of time with feminine women, and any level of time I invest in a woman beyond sex is with the feminine ones. Don’t get me wrong, women who challenge the feminine roles fulfil a certain sexual niche for me in that they are usually good one night lays, but unlike feminine women, my time spent courting them beyond sex feels wasted. With the feminine vs. non-feminine dynamic however, comes where most people assume sexual enjoyment is most different. However there is one thing as a budding young gentleman of game that shocked me: women love to fuck. I, like most men, assumed the more feminine the woman the less sexual the woman, which is true on it’s surface, but not at it’s core; women are just as sexual as men are in many ways, but different forces compel them to act a certain way to the outside world.

With feminine women it is usually traditional morals that compel them to appear as wholesome. With non-feminine women, it is usually permissive parenting and feminist ideals that lead them to appear less wholesome. These dynamics serve their own purpose for the up and budding gentleman of game, and that is the more wholesome a woman, the more you will need to invest in having sex with her, and the less wholesome a woman, the less you will need to invest yourself in having sex with her; basic game reiterated. However, beyond investment of time, at their core, both spectrum’s of women share the same traits of what they enjoy sexuality, and that is being desired in a very selfish way.

Now when I say a “very selfish way,” automatically the evil woman narrative takes place in the minds of many gentlemen of game, but I do not believe women to be evil but hard-wired by their emotional compasses and with that compass they make their decisions; that’s why game blogs exist so you can navigate these compasses accordingly. No one (except feminists) call men evil for being hardwired to selfishly seek out certain sexual traits of women, and with that, I do not consider women evil for being controlled by their own selfish sexualities. I believe it was Baumeister who stated that women are the gatekeepers of sex, and therefore hold a lot of power over men in a sexual economy. Men provide women with certain traits (strength, charm, financial stability, etc.), and women respond in turn by giving them sex. I think the most potent of these traits that does not change radically over time for women, is masculinity. A lot of gentlemen of game point to the 50’s as being a time when women took men more seriously and thus “nice guys” could thrive, but I disagree. The men of the 50’s era were still men, and built a system that rewarded women for being good wives and mothers, and punished them for straying from that narrative; this was raw masculinity rewarding raw femininity. Things have obviously changed, and feminine women of today are echoes of their traditional parents, and non-feminine women are loud speakers for a new movement that attempts to redefine femininity (see: feminism). So, masculinity is the trait that women, feminine or not, desire most, and women want to be desired by masculine men.

When women read romantic novels you would be hard pressed to find a novel about a insecure skinny nerd who is the lead male in the novel. Normally these novels include a mysterious lead who displays some level of raw masculinity that she literally cannot resist. Shifting from the romantic novel we can look towards music. The popular songs amongst women is typically about a high status man (see: the rich ass singer singing the song) who desires a girl that he just MUST have. Even on the flipside of things, when a woman is making music, Taylor Swift for example, it is about that man who got away, or the man she loved dearly but is no longer going to speak to, etc. Women make up large demographics who enjoy those styles of music because it appeals to a very selfish part of them, and that is being desired romantically.

When you as a man can be reflective of that desire that a woman feels when she listens to shitty Taylor Swift songs, or when she reads romantic novels, you will unlock something very special in her, and that is her true sexual nature. When a woman is unlocked in this way, you learn something profound: women love to fuck. When I speak to some gentlemen about a wholesome girl I convinced to try anal or pushed to have a threesome, they seem dumbfounded. “She didn’t seem like that type of girl” is the typical response I get. The thing is, this “type of girl” ideology is silly, because I am convinced that once I make a girl feel that lust associated with desire, after a bit of time, sexually, she will be whatever “type of girl” I want her to be. The truth is women find all sorts of sexual fantasies and oddities just as exciting as you do, but the more wholesome the girl the less likely she is going readily express this to you or the outside world.

An old high school crush of mine and I started talking years after I got over my fear of speaking to women. After awhile I had finally bedded her. Sleeping with her was when I really started to understand the true sexual nature of women. She was one of the wildest sexual partners I ever had, and afterwards I asked myself, “who did I just fuck?” I could have never imagined that she was into sex like she was when I was in high school. I used to think that only the less-wholesome women could fuck the way she did. She certainly still seemed wholesome. Obviously I pushed for a lot of crazy shit with her, but I realized after this that no matter what woman you are having sex with, once you have unlocked, she will respond sexually in ways you never imagined. Some men initially respond to women having the same sexual desires as men as being proof that they are all whores; I think that is a brash way of putting it. Instead, this is the secret about women that for me, made them that much more exciting.

The men who enjoyed sexual success in high school with an array of women did so because of their understanding of the true sexual nature of women. They knew that wholesome or not, any girl enjoyed the sexual exploration and perversions that they did. When I talk to my more conservative beta bitch boy friends about my sexual escapades, they respond in shock that a woman who they thought was “so nice” would partake in such a thing. These beta bitch boys have not unlocked their sexual partners, and will forever see women as something they deep down inside are not. Meanwhile guys like me who understand that women truly enjoy sexual experiences beyond missionary will continue to enjoy the sex life I want.

Game Adventures #2: Parks, Parties and Apartments

I seem to post my later game adventures on Roosh V Forums, but I realize that the write ups are good enough that you gentlemen who follow my adventures might find these exciting. So I’ve compiled three of my most recent ones for your reading pleasure. ALL IN ONE PACKAGE. (These are the original posts from RVF, but I’ve fixed various spelling mistakes in my writing and added some details that I forgot in my initial write ups).

Fucking On The Park Dock

I’m wasted boys.

I ended up going to the park with my close friend and we drank until midnight. This gorgeous blonde (8.5/10) and her hippie roomate come over and mistaken me for her weed dealer. I tell her to sit down because we needed a female opinion on some bullshit argument we were having. She bought it. Classic pick up bullshit. She vibes with us and I can tell she is taking a liking to me; her room mate is all sorts of weird – he has some weird protective crush on her. I keep joking with her, telling her ridiculous things, and taking none of her shit tests seriously; “You think you’re so attractive, don’t you?” I smirk, “well that’s what my mother says.” After awhile of building rapport with her, I write on the notes app in my phone: “Come for an adventure on the town. My apologies, but your boyfriend seems wasted; I’m sure the night will be fun.” She laughs as I pass her my phone, and writes back “first off hes not my boyfriend and second I don’t have ID.” I write back “ID is irrelevant, come have fun.” She whispers in my ear “Lets go soon.” I don’t expect this part: she gets up, looks at her weird beta bitch boy room mate and tells him she’s leaving and he gets mad that she’s leaving with two random dudes she just met; she says loudly “I don’t fucking care if you have feelings for me, get over it. I don’t like you like that. I’m single, and I’m going to have fun.” I’m feeling mediocre about her weird actions, and I walk away with my friend. I want more liquor. She follows and apologizes for the scene she made. I bring my friend and her to a quaint little bar and she happens to know some people there. I leave her with her friends and have some more drinks with my friend. My friend and I are having a good time. She sits beside me and tells me that she finds me really attractive. I don’t say a word. I continue flirting with her, and I decide to challenge her to a thumb war. She laughs, accepts, and I beat her at the thumb war. She starts giggling and I lean in and make out with her.

We leave the bar, and I tell my buddy we should run a train on her. He tells me she’s not feeling him. Turns out my drunken judgement is off, I don’t think she is feeling him. I give him cab fare home and tell him I’m sorry he couldn’t crash at my place. I end up telling her about a unique spot I love to sit at night at. She tells me she’s excited to see it; she goes on again about how attractive I am. I take a short cut to my magic spot by going through an alley way. We stop in the alley way and I finger her while making out with her. We continue on her way, and I bring her to my magic spot: it’s a dock in the park I smoke cigars at some time. It’s late and I start making out with her. She is giggling and I start to finger her again. She keeps asking if she’ll get caught, I tell her “who cares, take your pants off” and then grab her neck and start kissing her lips. She takes her pants off, and I start to rail her. The police are literally flashing their lights across the dock from us, but I don’t think they see us. Nerves got the best of me and I end up letting her cum and pull out without busting my nut. She giggles and kisses me and then we get dressed quickly and leave.

I bring her home intending to bust my nut, but she starts freaking out that her hippie room mate is home and will be upset that she went out with a guy. As we’re walking some gentleman screams in my direction, but I ignore it. The gentlemen keeps screaming, “HEY FUCKER! I’M IN THE ARMY. I’M TALKING TO YOU.” His tone pissed me off, and I stop in my tracks and tell him to come here if he has an issue. I stand my ground and she starts crying in my arms. He feels bad that he made her cry, apologizes and goes on his way. She says, “I didn’t want to see you hurt someone or get hurt. You were scary!” I only knew this chick for four hours at this point, and she acted like my girlfriend or something. Kind of weird. She insists she gets my Facebook, but I tell her I don’t believe in it and insist she emails me instead. I give her a bogus email and go on my way.

What an exciting night.

The Twenty-Nine Year Old Party Slut

This adventure made me realize time and time again that late twenties women are easy as fuck to game; presumably some biological realization that their sexual power is fading.

Her body was immaculate, but lost points for a mediocre face. A solid 8 out of 10. The second I walked into the party she was eye fucking me. I brought a 40 of olde english and she eventually comments on it, “are you really drinking those? that’s so high school!” I smirk and we cheers. I walk away from her, but she eventually follows and asks me how I know everyone there. I switch gears and I keep asking her “why” questions about herself. Somehow the topic of ages comes up and I ask her to guess how old I am. She says “31, 32?” I tell her she’s way off, and that I’m only 24. She is 29 but she seems disappointed at my age. I ask her where her walker is, and she laughs, then I ask “so how was world war 2?” She says “I heard you make the joke to someone else earlier in the night, it wasn’t funny then, and it’s not funny now.” I bounce back, “yeah, well there goes two nights of joke writing, wasted. But, atleast my mom thinks I’m funny” (I get a lot of mileage out of this silly “at least my mom thinks…” joke). She laughs and at this point we’re both fairly drunk. I bring her to the basement where she is staying the night, we talk about some stupid shit, and I end up cutting her off and making out with her.

She removes her shirt and bra, and I don’t know why this chick wore such a tight bra because her breasts are massive. This large breast size is made sexier by the fact that she has such a slim stomach and waist. I slap a jimmy on and I start fucking her. I tell her she has such a tight pussy and body (she did). She swoons to this statement, “It’s so nice to hear a younger guy say that” (she must have repeated a variation of this statement five or six times); chick must be realizing her sexual market value is going to plummet soon. The fact she didn’t shave her pussy though has me assume that she hadn’t been fucked in awhile. I continue railing her, she starts riding my cock, and like we are in college or some shit, she’s drinking a beer as she’s riding my dick. She gets off of me, takes my condom off, and then she proceeds to deep throats my dick. Not boasting gentlemen, but my cock is pretty big, so the fact she managed to take it down her throat to the base of my cock was an impressive feat. She gets back on top of my dick, but I forget I don’t have a condom on, but at this point her pussy feels even more incredible. I end up telling her to get on her back, and I bust in her mouth, she swallows it without even flinching. What a slut.

I know some of you gentlemen are opposed to condoms, but I am in a long term relationship, so out of respect I wear a condom if I’m going to engage in extra curricular activities. So her getting on top of my dick for that little bit minus a condom was kind of shitty. Regardless, I was actually under the impression she was the same age as me, but as I said above,  makes me realize that late twenties women are easy as pie to fuck. While I did “game” this girl with traditional methods, it was definitely made easy by the fact that unlike a younger twenties girl, this girl showed active and immediate interest which always kept interaction in my favour. This pattern has followed with any other late twenties woman I’ve banged as well.

Chicks values be fading.

The Out of Town Five

Well. I railed some broad… She was a 5/10 at best. Not the proudest moment as I have never dipped below what I would deem a 6…

Met her on Tinder and  she drove an hour away just to see me. Her profile pictures were devious. Must have been old pictures on her profile. When I sat in her car, I scan her body, and she did not look slim like in her picture. Her chunky demeanour seriously brought her rating from a hard 7 to a solid 5. Despite my hard demeanour gentlemen, I am a reasonable person, so part of me felt obligated to spend some time with her since she invested time to drive so far *cue beta bells.* Cute face, nice perky large tits, but a really chunky body – fuck it I figured I might as-well get something for my time, and so I went for it. I railed the fuck out of this chunky chick. Excuse my fragile ego, but I have never banged a girl lower then what I deemed a 7. So fucking a really chunky chick felt slightly embarrassing, but I was horny and she was available; she definitely wanted to get her pussy pounded.

So, I did porn star shit: deep throat, hardcore choking, spitting on her, slapped her, even slipped it in her ass – she’s never done anal. She loved it; what a whore. So I ended up busting a nut in the condom, and then made her eat it. I tell her to put on a movie while I smoke my cigars in her apartment. She puts on some terrible romantic comedy I entirely forget the name of. Regardless, I was still horny ten minutes later so I got her to give me a tit job and suck my dick for an hour. I nutted on her face and got her to clean my cock up after with a fresh towel.

As the cum sat on her face she tells me, “I’ve never had anyone treat me like that. That was incredible.”

In some way, after this adventure I was weirdly motivated to approach more then ever, but also oddly satisfied with the encounter.

No regrets.

Game Adventures #1: Halloween and Heineken

Way back when, when I was just a little Route Backwards, I tried this whole game thing. Yeah, that game thing that was about talking to women and hoping that with or without a bottle of whisky their toned legs would spread so your cock could bust it’s seed into the warm wet confines of a females reproductive organs. I have a slew of early game stories, that star me, my delicious friend Heineken, my cock and the women that my cock told me to talk to. However fine Gentleman Smoke reader, these stories are not without hurdles and failure, and are loaded with anti-game, but it is those hurdles and failures that brought me to being the person I am now, a gentleman of game. I will run this series of Early Game Adventures to highlight my failures as a means to understand common pitfalls many gentlemen have in game.

The Halloween Attempts

I had read bit and pieces of Double Your Dating at this point, and I would have been a freshly turned ninteen year old gentlemen here, but with my level of confidence at this point I was still stuck on the pedastalization of any woman who even looked at me, but turns out liquid courage said fuck you to the pedastal, and instead, said hello to awkward backhanded compliments.

It’s Halloween and I’m at this small, yet classy, little bar. I’m sipping on my delicious Heineken and situated in a high traffic seating spot that just so happens to have flocks of women coming and going. Some cute blonde females sit next to me, but her friend left for whatever reason friends leave their friends behind for, and as I’m trying to muster up the courage to say something witty to her (i.e. drink more Heineken), she beats me to the punch and asks me a question I don’t remember, it was something trivial but I was excited that female talked to me first, so I continued making small talk; I bored the fuck out of her and she left.

At this point I realized that failure was not that bad, and I had one too many pints of that delicious Heineken nectar, and I told myself I was going to really try hard with the next girl who sat near me. In Halloween spirit I look to the left of me and see a group of women walk in wearing skimpy Halloween outfits with some dressed as cats, and others dressed as slutty cops. How original. Of course, my beautiful choice of seating leads these women to sitting right beside me. The girl closest to me, who is dressed as a cat by the way, sits down and instantly starts looking through her phone. She is sipping a martini, it looks delicious. Instead of little RouteBackwards commenting on how delicious said martini is, and how he appreciates her fine taste in three dollar martinis, RouteBackwards Jr. instead awkwardly says, “Your costume is weird.” The trembling in RouteBackwards Jr.’s voice was the mark of an amateur, and her cat like instincts could smell Backward’s weakness, she looks disgusted, turns to her friend and then stares at the wall ahead of her and stently says, “Ok.” Little Backward’s is not a quitter though, no, he is a reflection of Heineken’s stumbling narrative, and Little Backwards chimes in quickly, “What are you supposed to be?” Cat lady looks noticably awkward and annoyed, she forcefully says, “an animal.” Backwards Jr is lost in a cloud of Heineken, and responds with the most charming response his alcohol flooded brain can think of, “What’s that?” She and her friends walk away.

Little Backwards kept drinking himself into a anti-game stupour for the rest of the night.

 

Things I Learned This Night:

– Don’t force interactions to the point of killing them. The issue I had at this point was always forcing conversation with the hopes that the girl would not leave. While some gentleman may disagree, it IS ok to force conversation IF you feel like you have not built a strong enough connection at the point that the conversation is going, but you do know there is a connection. In this case, there were no connections, other then mine to that delicious Heineken brew.

– Don’t be negative off the jump. With the second lady that I spoke to this night, I said a remark that was pretty rude. While it is easy to blame Heineken, which is absolutely delicious by the way, this is lame game that is only going to ruin your chances for future pussy access.

– Heineken is delicious, but also reeks of anti-game. Alcohol is a good game booster in certain situations, but for the most part, and especially at this point in my game, it will ruin your chances. I was not able to calibrate where alcohol fit best with my game at this point, so I was overdrinking in hopes of getting over approach anxiety, striking out, then refelcting on my strike out’s and concluding that I would never get good enough at game because all I could recall in my game experiences were drunken strike-outs. However, now, if I drink it’s to stay tipsy, and keep juggling that feelin. Back then though, and the same fate for many other RouteBackwards minded gentlemen, is to keep drinking until anxiety goes away, but with that feeling of anxiety disappearing, anti-game takes it’s place. Then again, I do love Heineken more than most women, so if you are content with Mr. Heineken, then by any means, stick to that delicious option.

FUCK BITCHES, DRINK HEINEKEN.

Three Days Of Theanine

Over at the Roosh V Forums there has been much discussion about the drug Theanine, and their own experiences. It sounded interesting enough, and upon some Google-based research it did not seem to have any negative side effects. So I mustered up twenty-hard earned dollars and went down to the GNC and bought generic a brand L-Theanine. For those who do not know what Theanine is, Theanine is supposed to promote relaxation, stop anxiety and make you feel all around good; preliminary research supports Theanine having said effects as well.

So after reading all the pro-theanine write ups on the internet, and all of the gentlemen who seem to claim benefit as a result of theanine, Mr. Backwards decided to take the plunge himself.

Day One

I started small, just out of my natural fear of drugs being more powerful than they usually are, and popped 100 milligrams worth of Theanine. Within a half an hour or so, I felt a sense of calm and great focus. The high felt similar to the lack of inhibition I felt during drinking, minus the actual negative effects that come with drunkenness.

I must add, I did drink a cup of coffee with the 100 milligrams I took. I also drank alcohol about an hour later, which to my surprise, it felt harder to get drunk, and when I was hitting the stage of drunkenness, I felt more alert. However, I did get intoxicated to the point of incoherency later into the night…

Day Two

I woke up with a shitty hang over, but for the fuck of it, I decided to try some Theanine. This time I took 200 milligrams, and drank two cups of coffee. Instantly I felt a lot better. It almost felt like I never drank the night before. Dope. The high however, did not feel as intense as the first day I took Theanine, but I still felt similar effects.

I took another 200 milligrams, and I went to a bar – minus the drinking – around 9-10 PM and made a couple approaches. I did not feel anxious during these interactions, but in a weird way, the calmness I felt almost pushed me away from being motivated enough to care about speaking to these women. I was content hanging out with gentlemen around me, or speaking to the construction gentlemen occupying the bar, than I was with actively trying to get laid.

Day Three

I took 200 milligrams of Theanine in the afternoon, and decided to sit down and work on some music. I spent two hours or so working on music, but it felt like ten minutes. The work was not sloppy either, but incredibly focused and some of the best I’ve done in awhile. Nice.

I went out for a walk after, and made a couple approaches on my way to the bank. I felt very confident and calm, and did not worry about the results as much as I normally do. Grabbed a number. Nice.

Criticisms?

Theanine DOES do the things most people claim, but I would argue, if you have awful social anxiety, are a boring person or simply do not have motivation to approach women, this drug will not change any of that. I think Theanine is just a good social booster for those who have average to good social skills already, and for those nights I do not feel like drinking to be social, Theanine is a good alternative. If you still have a lack of social skills and general anxiety about basic issues in your life, while I think Theanine will help, my experience has lead me to feel like the high is not powerful enough that it will stop an underlying social issues you have all together like some pro-theaniner’s would have you believe.

Route Backwards

My father was an alpha male. A mans man was how most people described him. Unfortunately I only got a glimpse of his alphaness; my father died when I was very young. My mother did not anticipate this, and she did her best to raise five children on her own. My mother was always close to her mother so a lot of my upbringing was influenced by my grandmother. Unfortunately my grandmother was a whore her whole life, and in turn a feminist-type who believed that masculine men were what was wrong with society, and that effeminate men were the right model of what being a man should be.

Even before my father passed, I was a very emotional child. I embodied peoples pain by simple glances. I learned I was emotionally gifted. Being emotionally gifted is the single biggest challenge I have ever faced in my life, because social situations can not only liven me up within seconds of me entering them, but they can also drain me just as quick and push me into avoiding them all together. My grandmother, whether she was consciously aware of it or not, tried to mold me into what feminists everywhere would say is the perfect little boy. A pussy.

With that being said, I am still my fathers son. I do believe heredity influenced a lot of my urges and demeanor, and in turn I would gawk at women in bikinis or get into a scuffle with children at school. My grandmother made me feel bad about finding women attractive, and she made me feel bad about defending myself physically when it came to schoolyard bullies. To her that was wrong and I was simply a victim of societies idea of manhood. I believed this, and spent much of my youth basking in the emotional intensities of my environment. My mother respected my grandmothers opinion and agreed with a lot of what my grandmother would tell me.

High school was hell. I either avoided women at all costs because I was afraid I would say something wrong to offend them, or I would get “let’s just be friends” from the ones that I did talk to. I did not understand, I thought me being more emotionally receptive and outwardly focused on peoples well being that I was the female dream. My grandmother had me believe this, and my mother assumed I would find the “one.”

Having an older brother who did take the alpha traits of my father did help me. I would start talking more crudely to women, but that just made me seem weird to them, because no matter how much I wanted to tease or charm them, I internalized the feminist notion of feminine being the most right way to be. Of course my older brother would belittle my feminine behavior, and I believed that it was the fact that he lost our father that he acted that way and that I was lucky to not have experienced as much of my father as he did since I was on the “right” route to manhood.

Until one summer day two of the females who “let’s-just-be-friends’ed” me, and a couple other beta-bitch-boy orbiters, were walking to grab food after school. The two females are discussing how they are seeing these new guys and to some degree I am jealous because I wished for either of them that I was that guy. I awkwardly laugh and try to offer support in the form of “that’s great guys!” The one female turns to me and says. “You’re never going to get a girlfriend are you?” and she laughs, and continues, “Well like, maybe one day a girl will find you attractive enough to date you.” The other girl tells her that’s mean, and at that moment I felt like I was about to cry. I cut our meal short and headed home. I was no longer sad. I was pissed off.

For the first time I realized that the feminine idea of being a man was wrong, and I realized I was a joke to women because of it. For awhile I still endured being belittled by this same female, but I started to internalize that as a motivation to do something with my sex life. I started ignoring her banter, but I was still lost. I did not know what the fuck to do with myself as much as I knew I wanted to do something.

One lonely Saturday I did a quick internet search of, “how to get out of the friendzone.” I believe I found an article by David DeAngelo. This changed my life. I quickly saved it and then found David DeAngelo’s Double Your Dating book. Neg theory was eye opening. I already had the idea of “negging” when I was younger, but I was told that was wrong. Then I read The Game, and I was set. I realized everything I was told to suppress, I already had and it was only a matter of learning to utilize them.

While I certainly learned about game and learned different methods to approaching it, I knew deep down inside I already had these natural urges and charm. While some use game material for personality building, I used it to help me uncover what my personality always was and be confident with using it.

It helped me take a route backwards to who I always was. I started selling weed, buying nicer clothes, taking care of my appearance, working out and generally try being more social with women. The time I invested started to pay off, and I realized for the first time in my life that I could be liked by women. It was a high I never thought I would feel, and one I now cannot live without. I’ve failed a lot, and I still get rejected even now, but through the rejection, I have gained acceptance. Not just acceptance from women, but acceptance from myself in knowing that I have all the tools to accomplish what I need to do in life. Through it all, I would like to stress that I am not some ridiculous pick up artist who grabs women with a single glance, but I do well enough to feel confident in what I preach, and confident in feeling attractive to women and being content with myself.

My grandmother will see my posts on various social networking sites and act disgusted, or respond to what I write about as being misogynistic, but I realize she is just a slave to the society that raised her. She is going through the motions to reinforce her agenda of feminine superiority, and while I love the woman, I realize that our values do not match and because of that we will never be on a level the suggests a family unit beyond biology. My mother however, she loves me unconditionally and appreciates the route I have embarked on as a man, and I will always hold her dearly because of that.

Now, while that female who hurt me ages ago snarks at the route I have traveled on, In some way I must thank her. For without her throwing me into the pits of depression, I would not have climbed out as a knowledgeable gentleman of game. This route has given me personal growth, fulfillment and a sense of worth as a human being, and most importantly, it has given me fulfillment as a man.  While some spit on this route, and wish that I would have turned around, I was determined to get to my destination, and the destination has been far more fulfilling than any praise I have received from acting feminine.

The route backwards has been the best thing I have ever embarked on.