I’ve written extensive on the necessity of game in the past. Recently, I came across an old comment on Dalrock’s blog that shed further light on the pitfalls of pedestalization and the consequences men face when they fail to embrace the necessity of game and the red pill.
Meet Michael:
Hello. Is there an introduction board for this website? My name is Michael. I’ve been reading this website for 3 days. I’m shocked to see everything I’ve experiencing written in such a perfectly stated way. Never before have I seen a blog/media outlet so perfectly written. The writer is surely a genius. I’m amazed and relived to see so many responses. It means I’m not alone.
I’m 32 years old and have never been married. Unfortunately (or fortunately I’m not sure which anymore at this point) I have no kids. I am single and alone and not dating anyone. I live in Los Angeles. My income was $120,000.00 (net earnings after creative deductions and business taxes) in 2011. Income is projected to be $170,000.00 (net earnings after business taxes) in 2012. I’m exactly the kinds of “independent man” women claim they want. I drive a luxury car with an amazing apartment in Los Angeles directly on the beach. It’s quite a panty moistener and costs me $6,000.00 per month. I work from home because an office would cost at least another $2,000.00 month. I keep in great shape. Gym 3-4 a week + running + organic diet (I spend $700-$900.00 a month on organic foods and supplements) I was raised in a Christian “7th Heaven” (old TV show) type household. We always went to church. Strong hard working father figure was always present for me and my siblings. I went to private school, university, law school, and then started my own practice at 28 years old.
My parents met and married in college. They have been married for 39 years. And it hurts me to the core to be 32 and unmarried. Alone. Without a loving wife. I feel pain from it every single day. It’s like a sharp invisible dagger constantly stabbing at me. But perhaps I’m part of the problem listed in the graphs above. Let me explain why:
I went to the same college my parents met and married at. I was hoping to meet marry and settle down. Instead I was met with hundreds young college aged women who were NOT interested in marriage. They were interested in: 1) Partying 2) Having sex. College was 24/7 fuck fest. At first I was able to begrudgingly “socialize” in this element. What do I mean by “this element” within this context? College: Extreme social promiscuity, cheating, drama, drugs, and parties. I was an observer but NEVER a direct participant because my heart would not let me. This eventually caused me to stick out as a third wheel observer on campus. Someone who was always “not mixing” or “participating”. As a result I never enjoyed the benefits. I rarely dated. Instead I was sneered at. Cute girls flicked their fingers at me. I was used by women as a person to tell their problems to. I was passed over. I was seen as “weak “lame” and “boring”. I was ignored in the hallways, library, classes, by these women. And it didn’t help I was cash strapped broke working a minimum wage job and eating Raman noodles..
The vast majority of these young hot girls vigorously pursued college life sex like you would not believe. They had sex with a large variety of guys. What I personally call “lily padding”. These girls did anything and anyone in the name of “fun” (fun=parties, fun= sex with new people, fun= drugs, fun= raves, fun = frat party etc.
It hurt me to watch these girls go out of their way to pursue and spread their legs for complete losers. COMPLETE LOSERS. I’m talking: Hi I work in a carnival part time, I’m covered in tattoos, I have no job, I failed my minimum wage drug test and I’m in a band. These guys were losers. Some did not even go to the college! They would hop a bus stay with friends and get laid THAT NIGHT.
Many nights I could not sleep because of the girls getting fucked hard… 1,2,3,4 dorms down. The dorms were old military barracks from the 1940’s with vents through the ceilings. It was very loud. All the time. I remember how much it hurt to be rejected by one girl in particular I had my open hopeless romantic heart set on… We had a lot in common. I pursued her like a complete gentlemen – and was eventually turned down. That same weekend after getting turned down I got to hear her getting fucked hard and loud in the room next door. The guy who lived there was a super scraggly unattractive heavy drug user covered in tattoos majoring in “music studies”. This girl was young hot thin beautiful in her physical prime. I never said anything. But I felt so hurt she turned me down for casual sex with a guy like that.
This guy was very open about his exploits with her and told me not to worry because practically every guy he knew fucked her. As the years passed the same thing happened again and again, and again and again, in various ways with all kinds of unrelated girls. What I mean is: I was looking for a LTR leading to marriage. I would meet trade numbers talk and “feel” a girl was a good person. Then she would do other guys. Or I would find out things like this. When this kind of thing happens to me over and over all through my life….it hurts me and makes me doubt senses. What is wrong with me that my heart is telling me she is a good person when she is clearly not?
As time went on I was labeled “husband material” by the girls on my campus. This phrase continued to plague me into my late 20′s. This label resulted in ZERO DATES all through college. I wasn’t “down with it”. I wasn’t “participating” etc (sex, drugs, parties, etc.) My heart wasn’t into it. So I wasn’t entitled to any of the benefits (having sex with young attractive girls in their prime etc.). However party guys, flash in a pan athletes, loser guys in bands, wanna be DJ’s and self-professed “club promoters” – were ALWAYS getting these girls at their youngest hottest physical prime. Basically the more of a loser the guy was… the more these women would have sex with them. Hot sorority girls flocked to Football players like a butterfly’s on a beast. It didn’t even matter if the guy was black. College athletes did not even TRY to get laid.
One night I had enough. I confronted a room of 8-10 gorgeous white girls. These girls were 18-24 years old. I asked them if they planned to get married. All seemed to say more or less – YES. I asked what their future husband would think about their behavior. I was immediately met with hostility. I was told the future husband would “never know” and “it’s none of his business”. The girls said they knew exactly what they were doing and were planning to “have their fun” (fun= partying, fun=sex, fun=going on spring break etc.) and would “settle down later”. I asked: when are you planning to settle down? They said: “It depends” and “probably around 27, 28” or “maybe sooner it depends”. I really put the girls on the spot. During our exchange they saw I was upset. They told me I should be happy because “nice guys finish first in the end”. I told them you cannot have your cake and eat it to. Then I was told by Kaylene (a young thin super sexy blonde with curves in all the right places (who BTW refused to date me even though we were friends and according to her roommate had sex with almost 30 guys in one semester ) she told me “Michael let me tell you something: not only am I going to have my cake eat it and eat it too. I’m going to have it with ice cream and sprinkles”. All of the girls laughed and smiled in agreement.
The person described in these anecdotes is not atypical. Young Michael was a standard “nice guy”. He was a religious, traditional blue pill dude who has been raised to internalize naive, unrealistic views of female sexuality. These views encouraged him to place women on a massive pedestal and he was hurt very badly when he found out that they don’t belong and, more importantly, have absolutely no desire to be put there.
The pedestalization is key here, and I know because I have wrestled with the same issue for the majority of my life. Michael’s experiences are made especially painful by his excessive and premature emotional investment in these women. It is this investment that makes the mere thought of their interacting with other men painful for Michael. To him, these young girls were “princesses”, and he their prince. Each was considered a potential wife and mother to his children.
For the other dudes on campus who may have some understanding of red pill truths and thus knew not to make this excessive and premature emotional investment, interaction with these girls had far less potential for emotional trauma on their part and a much stronger potential for the formation of a sexual relationship that was capable of fully satiating their needs. There are no princesses or princes in their minds and no wives or mothers, just ordinary young girls and young guys looking to meet and have fun. Enjoyable, sexually gratifying relationships are much easier to maintain under these substantially more realistic pretenses.
When you forego the red pill and approach things from Michael’s blue-pill provider perspective, however, you put yourself in a tough position. It is one thing to watch any old girl getting treated like a sex toy. It is another thing entirely to watch (or listen to, or even hear about) your “princess” (girl you pedestalized, emotionally invested in, etc) getting treated that way. Catching feelings early and often in this manner results in a lot of pain 99% of the time because the girls usually don’t wish to live up to the high standard you set for them by placing them on a pedestal, and the amount of early emotional investment you put in usually means that anything less than that behavior results in terrible discomfort and insecurity.
“That same weekend after getting turned down I got to hear her getting fucked hard and loud in the room next door. The guy who lived there was a super scraggly unattractive heavy drug user covered in tattoos majoring in “music studies”. This girl was young hot thin beautiful in her physical prime. I never said anything. But I felt so hurt she turned me down for casual sex with a guy like that.”
The end result is a situation in which the girl has a vastly disproportionate and entirely unwarranted degree of control over an individual guy’s mental state, a fact that only further lowers his sexual appeal to her because women have a hard time respecting men they can control like that. They want a man, not a puppy dog.
Even the mere hint of her flaking or showing interest in other men in the manner most young, liberated western girls typically do can send this guy spiraling into deep depression. Anything more serious (i.e. the sounds of her getting pounded out by another guy, or even the rumor that she had been or is being pounded out by another guy) could totally destroy him.
When a man puts a woman on a pedestal and makes too large of an emotional investment in her too early, he’s asking for misery. Such an action is akin to placing a pistol in the hands of a given female, putting her finger on the trigger, and having her point it directly at your chest at a short distance. You can count on her to pull the trigger, intentionally or otherwise, because she is not going to live up to the responsibility you have given her by essentially handing her total control over your mental state. She doesn’t want that responsibility and, even if she did (no young woman really does), one could not fairly expect her to meet it. Handing total control over your emotional state to a woman is about as blue-pill as it gets, but that is where excessive pedestalization will lead you.
Now, what exactly were the girls’ opinions as to where they stood with men? How did they prefer to be seen? What did they want? Well, that’s clear if you look at their actions. They responded to the men who didn’t put them on a pedestal. In this I am actually reminded of a popular song from my childhood by Train entitled “Meet Virginia”.
In the chorus, it is said:
Well she wants to be the queen
Then she thinks about her scene
Pulls her hair back as she screams
“I don’t really wanna be the queen”
Some of these girls will talk about how they want a “nice guy” (they said as much to Michael). To the naive who do not understand the value of female action over female words, it may appear that they want to “be the queen” — they just want a good dude to treat them like a princess. This leads to blue-pill provider men like Michael (who are the most effusive in their praise of these women) proclaiming their status as “nice guys” and expecting to easily lure attractive women as a result of this.
When push comes to shove, however, these girls have no desire to stand on the pedestal men like this set up for them, and will usually run when presented with it. They see an unsolicited invitation to be his special queen or princess and they reject it. Most don’t want to be treated like mere sperm receptacles either, but when given the stark choice between Prince Michael Charming “nice guy” here and the attractive but douchey player down the street who isn’t going to worship the ground they walk on just because they happen to be decent looking females, they will usually choose the latter. This is a stark choice, but it is one that young women all too often face in the modern world of dating.
Why do they make that choice? They’re young, well provisioned, and have no need to give a fuck about the benefits a dull beta like Michael could offer them, at least not at that point in their lives. They just want guys who can turn them on and show them a good time, and the dull beta can generally do neither.
Now, we must speak to the limiting beliefs Michael holds that further mark his failure to ingest the red pill and highlight his need (as well as the need of other men like him) to do so. Michael spends an inordinate amount of time thinking about the interactions that other men have with the women he has pedestalized. His pedestalization not only makes it difficult to deal with the sexual choices made by his “princesses”, but also with the fact that men he perceives to be “less than” him are gaining more sexual access than he is. This group of males would, apparently, include musicians and athletes, particularly black ones:
Hot sorority girls flocked to Football players like a butterfly’s on a beast. It didn’t even matter if the guy was black.
It is implied here that the fact that their race didn’t matter somehow makes the situation he describes more dire, as though these women would and should, in an ideal world, weigh the race of the men they pursue much more heavily. That these women would be less inclined to restrict sexual access to an attractive black male simply because he is black seems odd to him.
It is here that Michael veers into the unfortunate (but, sadly, not entirely unexpected) morass of racial insecurity that makes it even more difficult for me to sympathize with him. Michael’s insecurity, excessive pedestalization and entitlement leads him to throw “other” men (in this case, people of color, athletes and musicians) under the bus in order to assuage his own sexual insecurities. Time that could be spent correcting his shortcomings, conquering his insecurities and becoming the kind of man these women may genuinely find more attractive (read: the kind of man they can’t easily manipulate) is instead spent whining about what “other men” are doing, and why he thinks they shouldn’t be doing it.
This is not the mentality of any sexually successful male in our modern society, and it provides a perfect example of precisely what a red-pill male should not be thinking or doing. By setting a host of racial, occupational and socio-economic barriers for who he thinks attractive women should and should not associate with and whining about their failure to adhere to said boundaries, Michael seeks to avoid necessary self-improvement. He feels women should be attracted to him, maintaining a sense of entitlement to their attention. When he doesn’t receive it, he doesn’t ask what it is he isn’t bringing to the table or seek to make himself a more appealing target. He, like far too many “nice guys” just whines about the men who are appealing without actually doing anything. He sees and hears women he finds attractive associating with men other than him and just stews in self-pity instead of doing anything about it. The hard process of self-improvement takes a back seat to comfortable pastime of whining, groaning and moaning about why everyone else has it wrong.
Michael wants to dictate who it is that these young females find attractive. Women, meanwhile, have made it abundantly clear that they have no desire to adhere to any guidance or restriction put forward by Michael or men like him. They want to fuck who they want, when they want, and how they want. Michael cannot change this, no matter how much he complains.
If you are Michael and you do not like who these females are associating with and would prefer that they instead view you as a viable alternative, you have one option: better yourself and become the kind of man they will find genuinely attractive. Find out what it is that these women like about the men you think they shouldn’t be seeing, and beat them at their own game. Do not merely talk about how you are the superior option: get out there and prove that you are the better option.
Merely whining about the kind of men they DO find attractive will accomplish nothing, as these females do not care about your feelings and will not allow them to govern or limit their sexual freedom. The days of individual men exerting near totalitarian control over female behavior are gone, and they are not coming back. The genie will not go back into the bottle and the old “traditional” ways our grandparents lived by in 1952 will not become a norm again. These women have their freedom, and this is the choice they have made (and will continue to make): they want men who are genuinely attractive and know how to turn them on. They do not want sensitive puppies like Michael whose emotions they can easily manipulate and destroy. Such men repulse women, and no attractive young girl will settle for such a specimen if she doesn’t have to (and now, more so than ever before, such women do not have to).
With the rise of the manosphere and sites like ROK that are dedicated to informing men of red pill truths and assisting in the digestion of those ideas, the excuses for the existence of men with Michael’s attitude are dwindling. Men of the modern world must either take the red pill and adapt to new sexual realities via self-improvement or accept that they will be left behind.
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