Circumstances. It's all about circumstances. Thankfully, I sought out answers to the questions I never knew I had.
A bit of context:
My father married my mother and my brother (born in a previous marriage) after falling in love with her in his early 20s. They are still married, and if you were to ask anyone of us we’d all say my mum is the boss of the house.
My dad is the bread winner. A really awesome guy. Compassionate, loyal, loving. A true provider for many decades. My mum has barely ever had a job and has been a stay-at-home mum all her life – even after my brother and I had grown up and my dad lost his job. It was his duty to provide for her and his duty to be a real man. She would berate him for failing to secure promotions in his last job and would belittle him in front of us when he failed to secure a new job. His entire worth is on him being a provider. He suddenly became worthless to her.
My dad loves my mother, and my mother loves my dad. I love them both. They have been amazing parents to me and my brother. They raised me to appreciate the value of sacrifice, family, and marriage. They raised me to be a proper beta male. All the shit my dad took off my mum, he still sacrificed himself to the marriage and was an ideal beta-provider role model for me.
In adulthood, I believed that finding the one and settling down to raise kids was my purpose in life. To be a provider and a romantic lover with a woman that truly understood me like my mother understood my father, and to have a wonderful life like my dad has. I would have a career and live to be a provider for my family. Life would be bliss...
Except, deep down, I realised on some level that this was horseshit. Utter bollocks. I could sense the resentment my dad had for my mum, and I could sense that my mum didn’t really love my dad the way I wanted to believe. It all seemed like such a hollow and meaningless joy to me. I could tell my dad had regrets. He married young and now in his maturity he probably realises this. He probably envies the fact that I am not married with kids at 29. I mean, how can you possibly know at 21 that the love of your life just happens to be the first woman you ever fell in love with?
Nevertheless I still had it ingrained that ‘the one’ was just round the corner. In my early twenties this came in the form of a childhood sweetheart who I had cherished memories of. We became a long-distance couple. She even had a son from a previous relationship – I had indeed become my own father. He was my role model, so I was only too happy to follow in his footsteps.
I loved this woman. She was gorgeous, and I wanted to believe that she loved me the way I wanted to be loved. But, it didn’t work out that way. I was her beta-provider. I had potential for long term providership. She was cheating on me with alphas when we were apart. She even fell pregnant and tried her best to get me to believe I was the father. Of course I fell for it. I was programmed from a very early age to want to be a dad, and this was a woman I was head over heels for despite my deep suspicions she was using me. I quickly fell into the role of father-to-be. Told my family. Prepared for my new life as a dad. Changed my short-term and long-term life goals to suit her interests. Bent over backwards to keep hold of someone so valuable as her.
Luckily, I managed to come to my senses and paid for a very expensive prenatal DNA test, which returned the harsh truth that I was not to be a father. The harsh truth that obviously she had been cheating on me. She became aggressive once she realised I did not intend on raising this child as my own. She went right after my character and insulted my very nature. The very nature I believed she loved me for. She attacked my sexual competence. The same sexual prowess she once claimed gave her the best orgasms she ever had. She attacked my strength. She attacked my masculinity. She pretty much attacked everything that made me beta. It cut deep – the wounds of which have only just healed…2 years later.
I was angry. I had severe hatred and resentment. I blamed her and was convinced she was a narcissistic sociopathic whore. That’s probably true, in fairness. She’s married now, probably to some beta chump like me. Over time, and through reading red pill literature, I have come to realise that there’s nothing left to be angry about. No point feeling sorry for myself.
With great pain comes great learning. I realised that the only person to blame is myself. I take ultimate responsibility for my actions and for my life. My programming and my upbringing has now been brought into question, and thanks to research and self-discovery I have come to the red pill with experiences of blue-pill living that absolutely correlate with the theory. I have been able to draw upon my own experiences and see that hypergamy is absolutely true. I am able to reflect upon my choices in life and see why I chose them and how they were setting me up for a life of regret.
Now I have a clear mindset about things. I am no longer going to accept life as a beta-provider. I will not feel shamed or rushed into finding a woman to be in a monogamous relationship with just because that’s what’s expected of me. I will not have this fear of being a single male in my thirties. I will focus on crafting the life I want and be the person I want to become.
I do not want to be my dad (as much as I bloody love him). And I will not allow myself to make the same bitter mistakes of my past relationships.
One thing I am still discovering is how to be more confident with women and having the courage to find girls to have casual relationships with without getting oneitis. And spinning plates. I’ve not made huge amounts of progress yet. I still have doubts about my nature, about my sexual competence, about my masculinity, and about being a transitioning beta. But I have made huge amounts of progress just by coming to these realisations and making a definite effort to accept the realities of life.
I have enough about me to find attractive girls and to act attractively. The only thing I need to do now is to act upon this. I am fucking nervous, man, but I know that a steady sea never made a skilled sailor. The only way for me to become the person that I want to be and live a life that I want is to do what I have always been afraid to do. To do what I’ve always been told is wrong. To escape my comfort zone. To just not give a fuck and be my true alpha self – not this programmed beta I have been for 29 years.
You get me?