No, I’m not having an existential crisis. Instead, I thought I’d share a little bit of my journey; how I became the man I am today. I won’t give you my entire life story, but when you read someone’s work, it can be helpful to know some of the pivotal points that led to his perspective. So, let’s go on a ride together…
I was awkward in high school. I couldn’t dress well, and didn’t care. I had terrible acne and grew my hair long so it would cover my face and nobody could see how bad it was. Tried all the different creams, lasers, pills, soaps, scrubs and systems in existence. Nothing helped, so I just resigned myself to covering my face with my hair.
It got better around college, when I started to exercise more and expand my diet. I still had some acne freshman year, and I was still very pale and skinny. But I cared less, so I made way more friends than in high school and learned some important social skills that I’d missed out on while I was busy hiding my face from the world.
The first time I kissed a girl was on vacation in Mexico. I was 18, she was 16. Her name was Michelle, and she was from Canada. We were laying under the night sky on lawn chairs at the beach, and she looked up and asked, “Aren’t the stars beautiful?” Charmer-in-training that I was, I said “Not as beautiful as you.” She rolled over and kissed me. I couldn’t believe it worked.
I fingered her and went down on her, with no idea what I was doing. When my fingers first slid up her leg and touched her vagina, I didn’t even know which hole I was touching. That night was where it all began.
I lost my virginity the following summer, to my supervisor. She got my phone number from the employee phone list, and anonymously flirted with me one night until I demanded to know who it was. She told me, and I invited her over. She had red hair, big boobs, and a wonderful vagina. I looked for a condom, but was way too drunk the see them on my floor. We went raw instead.
I had been “waiting for a special girl,” which in retrospect was probably rationalizing my failure with women as some kind of higher morality than the animals around me who would sleep with anyone they found attractive. Such sinners!
But then once it happened, I realized it’s just a fun thing people do when they’re attracted to each other.
The floodgates were open.
I dated a couple girls in college, none of them seriously. Junior year, I was heavy into drugs to a point where i was not doing well in school. My health was suffering. I left university and went to rehab.
When I signed up, I was told I would be back at school in five weeks.
A year and a half and three states later, I returned to school. I took eight classes. I got seven As, and one B+. Rehab was one of the best decisions of my life.
The summer I got back, I met my first girlfriend in the elevator. She was a petite, beautiful blonde–the president of her sorority. I was in the middle of a family crisis at the time, so I had to blow her off until it blew over. I later found out she thought I was making the whole thing up.
We dated for five or six months, and the last couple were long-distance. She stayed in California at school, and I graduated and moved onto my adult life elsewhere. We loved each other and visited each other every once in a while. The last time I visited her, she flipped out on a skiing vacation and I never saw or spoke to her after that.
I had career ambitions at the time and followed them around the continent. I spent years attaining my dream job, just to be disillusioned in a matter of months. I went to work for another company in a similar line of work, and it was one of the worst job experiences of my life. It was a psych ward. My job was to restrain violent teenagers until they stopped screaming, and it was exactly as rewarding as it sounds.
I met my second and last girlfriend at the psych ward. We dated for eight months. The first three were monogamous, after which I couldn’t do that anymore and opened the relationship very much against her will. She stayed with me though in an open relationship, because we were very much in love. She is the Cluster B I often mention on here, and though I usually refer to her with rather terrible epithets, I did love her deeply.
I left her and the psych ward at the same time, and moved to Hawaii. My experience there was documented in my article, An MRA In Feminist Paradise.
Now I am back on the West Coast, single and doing meaningful work. I have no money, because I choose instead to work a job which contributes greatly to society and it gives me a feeling of real significance. Nobody I work with is getting rich in a monetary sense, but we are spiritually wealthy one and all.
Life is short. Make of it what you will.
And when God gives you lemons, throw the lemons back and tell him to suck your dick.