I have a close female friend. Her marriage is on life support. I also know her husband. His behavior is that of a classic struggling nice guy beta making every effort to “make things right” … and getting nowhere. Though never married, I know his struggle.
We talk about almost everything. Occasionally I offer helpful comments about their marriage. She admires me and is attracted to me, so she listens. [fn. 1] She knows I want what’s best for her, him, and her marriage.[fn. 2]
I do not try to red-pill her. I mention it occasionally as the impetus for all the improvement I made in my life. She listens… to a point. Unfortunately, like every woman, she reflexively rejects anything suggesting:
When this occurs, she changes the subject or start pushing back hard (“who hurt you..”, “you sound like you hate women...”, etc.). She skews her version of events to make her self look good, [fn.3] but it’s not hard to see the full picture. In chief, she’s not haaaappy.
Today she complained again. I tested something.
I asked her, in all sincerity, to do me a favor and give him a copy of No More Mr. Nice Guy, by Dr. Robert Glover, a bedrock text for establishing a male identity. I’ve mentioned this book before in a neutral context and she accepted that it helped me immensely.
She was mildly aware that I was asking her to help him (and by extension their marriage). She was amenable to the idea because she admires me. Although she agreed his current approach is making things worse, she resisted my effort the more I explained that he needed to work on himself, for himself.
She opined this would only trade one stale technique, beta supplication, [fn. 4] for another: game (the diabolical red pill skillset that she can’t admit made me extremely attractive to her). When I told her this was the wrong way to view the situation, and implied that her husband had needs of his own, she changed the subject. She had had enough of my help.
Let me repeat.
I, a man she respects, tried to get her to help her husband, a man she no longer respects, by recommending the very thing that made me more attractive and arousing to her. And she was repulsed.
Why?
Because guys are supposed to just get it.
If her husband of 23 years can’t figure out his marital problems on his own, then he’s not the man for her. Because he’s beta, she can’t accept that he has value apart from her. [fn. 5] Nor can she accept that he could benefit from her help in dealing with the situation. He should just know how to deal with it. He shouldn’t need help from anyone, and especially not help from her. [fn. 6]
This woman has three kids and lives in martial misery. But as a woman, she cannot accept a benefit derived from help for him that operates within of her control. To a woman, such help is fraudulent and just proves he's a non-man. If she recommends this book to him, it is equivalent to telling him how to be masculine. To the relationship, this is an ill-gotten gain. [fn. 7]
This is never a woman’s job.
Never.
Never.
Never.
Never.
Never.
There is a common refrain: “don’t try to red pill women.”
This experience unambiguously corroborates it. She instinctively knew I was asking her to help him in his masculinity, even if indirectly, and it set off a biological alarm: hypergamy.
A woman is hypergamous before she is a wife. It is not just that she gets wet for an alpha and craves comfort from a beta. Her pussy must know the difference. It is hard-wired genetically, as deeply woven in female instinct as a man’s certain love of boobs. Telling a woman to get wet for a beta [fn. 8] is like telling a boob guy to fetishize flat chests. Vaginal certitude will brook no opposition. [fn. 9]
My friend did not consciously think, “Uh oh, Nixon asked me to help my husband bypass my hypergamous filter.” It was a reflex.
If I suggested mainstream self-help word porn garbage from a female-approved culture, she would not have resisted. She might have considered it a good idea. And in one respect, it is: it provides certainty.
Useless word porn guarantees hypergamous certainty. If he reads it and nods along, then persists in being beta (regardless of using the advice), then her hypergamy has assessed him correctly. She is comforted in knowing he is who she thinks he is: the man unworthy of her desire but who keeps negotiating (unsuccessfully) for it.
The red pill creates hypergamous doubt. A man with a history of beta nice guy supplication starts to implement the red pill and his wife wonders who he is. She may partly like the results, but mostly she’ll despite it and mock him for even trying. It threatens that prior certainty.
Every red pill beginner is riddled with incongruence. Sometimes he’ll come across as alpha, sometimes beta, and sometimes a disorienting combination. This unacceptable for a woman. She pegged him as beta. He stayed in his corner. She is satisfied in her ongoing dissatisfaction.
Viewed in this light, the notion of helping him create hypergamous doubt is a double whammy. First sin, manipulate me by splitting the atom of my arousal. Second sin, I help him do it.
Can’t she just trust that in the long run it will benefit her? No.
Her lack of trust in him is part of her lack of arousal (and their inert desire pattern). My opinion. Some women can think long term, vaginas do not. The masculinity my friend’s husband lacks (and needs to build) signals to her vagina first. Only after he can arouse her tingle will she consider cooperating with any other part of the relationship. [fn. 10]
Postscript.
Weeks ago I wrote this. Nothing has changed. I eventually stopped the futile effort of trying to help him (directly, or indirectly through her). Lesson learned. Also, her attraction for me has cooled off (I revealed too much of red pill). [fn 11] Their issues were the same before she knew me, while she was infatuated with me, and after the infatuation subsided.
I wrote this with a hefty dollop of resentment. This resentment undermines my long-term goal: to know female nature, as God created it, as it is, not as I want it to be. Imposing my insecurities or personal preferences on it is to sin by negotiating desire.
I do myself no favors by resenting female resistance to something that goes against female nature. Occasional frustration and annoyance? Unavoidable. Resentment? Never. I should be thankful I have female friends to remind me (at little cost) that it's a futile effort to ask for their help with my masculinity.
Whenever I think she should be open to my helping them, I must recognize this thought stems from my male idealization of female nature. This holds me back on every level as a man. It reflects an expectation I place on her that she cannot accommodate. And if I’m careless, I'll place that expectation on all women…. and be sorely disappointed when they fail to meet it.
~~~~~~~~
Footnotes.
1. Barely beknownst to her, it is because of the red pill. We were both daily gym goers for years before we even knew each other. After I took the red pill and made something of myself physically and socially, I befriended her (along with many others). Only then, and not before, did she eagerly embrace me.
2. I am not physically attracted to her. If I was, my motivations would be suspect.
3. She has the universal female tendency to offload responsibility onto others and maintain the pretense of virtue and innocence. Though she is a close friend, I am not blind to this tendency.
4. My words, not hers.
5. Corollary to women making rules for betas and breaking them for alphas. Alphas have value, betas do not. Morality? No. For women, the tingle is the primary and usually ultimate arbiter of value… and morality, more often than anyone wants to admit (see hybristophilia).
6. Isn’t couples counseling help? My opinion. From everything I’ve heard, couples counseling typically consists of a wife and therapist telling a husband “he needs to do better” (usually at obeying her). That doesn’t sound like help.
7. She also could barely accept help beyond her control. If I went directly to him (and I’ve tried a couple times), she would feel betrayed. At best, she would have to remain ignorant of this effort. I recognized this was impossible and let it go.
8. Even her fucking husband. Especially her husband.
9. Boners too. Certainty of arousal is egalitarian. Think of a man who initially gets aroused at the sight of a woman and is then disgusted when he finds out it is… not a woman.
10. Noted. The red pill covert contract. Even if he does everything he can and succeeds in making himself more attractive and arousing, it still may not work on her. Thus, he must do it for himself.
11. Lesson also learned.
As of this writing, I'm close to a year since I found and immediately embraced the red pill. I recognized and removed many beta tendencies from my mindset, communications, body language, etc. But I’m still a new convert. In my 40s, a late one. I have a longer track record of beta to unlearn than younger men.
Like most men, when I started lifting, implementing game, and killing my beta tendencies, I became more attractive to women. Six months ago, I met and started dating a girl. She fell in love with the new me. I marveled at how effective game worked on her even though I was still a beginner.
Alpha sex.
Early on, her affection and availability for me was typical of a woman who looks up to a man she sees as her SMV superior. I was her man. I led her, I flirted with her, I knocked her off the pedestal. Beta tells seeped through here and there, but not obvious ones.
She desired me. She eagerly made herself available for sex after a few dates and we enjoyed a fantastic sexual rapport. She thoroughly enjoyed it and participated enthusiastically.
Break.
We had an impasse after an incident where she flaked on me. I worked to enforce a boundary and did a poor job of it. And I let other beta tells bleed through. She immediately went cold. No replies to texts, no contact. I didn’t pursue her.
Although I made relationship mistakes, I used this opportunity to
After six weeks, her cold disposition thawed. Without groveling or apologizing, I acknowledged my mistakes. Though I maintained state control. She started texting again. We started flirting again. We incrementally worked back to what we had.
Our first intimate encounter post-reunion was an intense seesaw fool around and BJ session punctuated by her shit-testing me into an argument. I remained impassive and we both enjoyed the anxious intensity of the moment. Or so I thought.
Things progressed. We spent more time together. But after that first encounter, the chemistry immediately changed. What used to be passionate, extended kissing was now merely warm but brief.
Beta sex.
We eventually had sex again. She participated willingly, but not enthusiastically. As we fucked, she refused to surrender. She asserted control through her hips. She muttered, “don’t cum in me.” [fn. 1] It was brief and passionless.
This girl, who previously welcomed me with open arms, legs and heart, was desperate to keep me from inseminating her. She engaged in duty sex. I was bothered but I knew what had happened, thanks to the red pill.
She dated me as an alpha. She sensed beta. She broke up. I held frame and control. She came back around for a second try. [fn. 2] But when we reached the critical moment, her pussy defined me as beta and wanted nothing to do with me.
What did I do?
I texted her less and less. A week later during another half-date, she gave me a single, pleasant, two-second kiss. Then erected her familiar invisible wall between us. We went for a nice, friendly walk. But no intimacy. I was now her beta boyfriend. A place holder until someone else came along to be her alpha.
That night I wanted to dump her. But it was late and I wasn’t even sure what I was dumping. The next morning, I texted her and said that whatever the hell this was, it wasn’t a relationship, and I was done. Perhaps I should have done it in person. Oh well.
This made her very angry. By text she attributed her reluctance to me seeing other women. This was a convenient excuse because I had gone on dates after she dumped me. It doesn’t account for her lack of desire. I replied: “I want to be with a woman who wants to be with me. You don’t. It’s fine.”
We have a social circle where I still see her frequently. She has been intensely cold to me ever since. I found out she met a guy online a couple weeks after our breakup and fucked him with 10 minutes of meeting him in person. Two questions come to mind.
C’est la vie.
She lost desire. I wish she hadn’t. She did. It was on me to decide whether to settle for a woman who wanted to string me along. I refused. That’s all I did. Grateful to understand the desire dynamic. Grateful I refused to play the role of the chump even though I didn’t have another woman ready replace her.
Takeaways.
One. Seeing both sides of her confirmed much of what I’ve learned from red pill practice. As I made mistakes, she recalibrated her desire for me. [fn. 3]
Fortunately I could read the signs. They weren't that subtle.
Two. Keep-you-as-an-orbiter sex is worse than no sex. I pity any man who sticks with a woman who only gives him begrudging affection. The man feels like he is wronging her by expressing himself sexually with her. This wipes out every good feeling of intimacy and replaces them with guilt.
Third. I knew it was a waste to spend one second with her once it was clear she found me sexually repulsive. I did her a favor, but she resents me. She resents me in part because I was not only a beta disguised as an alpha, and because I dumped her instead of waiting pathetically for her to dump me.
Four. I'd rather have her hate me as an ex than like me with the sexual indifference reserved for an orbiter. We are still in the same social circle. I see her regularly and I use her vicious contempt as a test of my game. Every word she says toward me is laced with intense emotion. She reflexively says horrible things whenever we’re in the same group setting, regardless of who else is present. Sometimes I laugh it off and tease her, sometimes I return fire with vigor.
Five. She now sees me as someone who is unintimidated by her, willing to show it, and refuses to go along with her bullshit. That alone doesn’t generate attraction. But it is better than apologizing to her for anything.
Six. Take the loss. I dumped her and ignited some of her passion. But I still lost. I screwed things up. To strengthen my mindset, I must own my beta lapses, recognize them as best as possible, and correct them as I continue to make myself the best person I can be. [fn. 4]
Seven. She beta’d me. That doesn’t make her evil. It’s an AWALT reflex. Not only is it beyond my control, it’s usually beyond her control. I can’t negotiate my way back to alpha status with her. She didn’t have a grand plan to destroy me. She acted on instinct from start to finish.
Eight. The most alpha thing I could do is simply walk away.
Nine. When a woman tells you the truth, believe her. Her pussy never lied to me. It told me exactly where I stood and I accepted her pussy’s assessment of me at face value. Once it told me I wasn’t important to her, I stopped wasting my time seeking access.
Postscript. Since my original draft, she continued to provoke. Eventually she got her wish and we had a massive blowup. I lost state control. But by then it didn’t matter. I had already lost her weeks before and was simply tired of her repetitive provocations.
I exit with a feather in my cap. Of all the women who have dumped me, none has hated me as much as her. Most simply forgot I ever existed.
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1. I didn’t. I never had. Previously I didn’t need to be told.
2. She is attractive for her age. But thanks to understanding female SMV by age, I knew she didn’t have a surfeit of other alpha males ready to replace me. I played this well by doing and saying nothing about it.
3. I’m aware of the covert contract of the red pill: If I make no red pill mistakes, it will guarantee that she’ll desire me. This is a fallacy, but it doesn’t impact my efforts. I must internalize the game for me, though it guarantees nothing.
4. Money, muscles, game, frame.