First, this is a brand new account. My wife has made a habit of going through my 'old' account, and I'd rather not have that happen anymore. I don't care so much about the questions, or occasional shit tests (I'm a child?!?). I care more about the loss of the mystery and mystique that can be laid bare when my wife sees the playbook. I want her to see the product, not the process. It ruins the fun for both of us.

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Before the Pill

A buddy early last year introduced me to TRP and at first I thought it was because, in theory, I had a traditional view of marriage. It turns out that I was actually a sad sack. My life was riddled with covert contracts.

If I do the dishes, take out the trash, mow the lawn, AND clean the living room there's no way I don't get a blowie.

If I do the laundry, run her a bath, massage her feet, and get a babysitter for the kids then she'll have to cheer up and be nice to me.

I'm pretty sure most of what I did involved a covert contract one way or another. A lot of it was steeped in validation seeking as well. I didn't have real confidence in myself, outside of my massively bloated ego, so I pulled in validation like iron shavings to a magnet. I was such a nice guy though! I did everything I was supposed to for my wife. I put her on a golden pedestal and treated her like a goddess. Looking back, it's no wonder she treated me like a dirty peon.

She tried her best to mask that though, and I was blind to it for a long time. We would fight constantly, fuck rarely, and every day was spent walking on familiar egg shells to avoid familiar fights. It wasn't all about her, just most of it. I had a go-nowhere job that I was losing interest in. I had video games and tv shows to pull me out of the depressing world I had made for myself. Sometimes I would be productive and read a book, but that was happening less and less.

Fitness? What fitness? I was skinny fat. I had love handles and was getting a gut, but I was still "skinny". I was told that I was "filling out" and that I looked good. Bullshit, even I knew I was getting ugly. I started doing a little cardio, but that was it. "Muscle men" tended to be dicks anyway, and that wasn't me.

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A New Start?

When I found out what a shit test was, I was enlightened. It's not like my eyes were suddenly opened, or like this new idea was pretty cool. It was monk-setting-himself-on-fire inspiration. I practiced A&A which came pretty naturally, after the first few days. I'm a sarcastic guy with a dry sense of humor as it is already. My favorite joke will always be a pun. A&A is my forte, and it works so well. After seeing some progress, I hurried back to TRP and devoured as much information as I could. I came across MRP and saw some guys that actually meant business. I picked up NMMNG and read it like a madman. Then the next book. I was basically reading a collection of advice my grandfather had given me over the years, without the Disney-tainted nonsense. Happy wife = happy life reversed. I started doing things for myself. I practiced saying no. I bought a weight bench, dumbbells, etc and started working out a few days a week. I went from skinny fat to fit and stronger. I'm not huge yet, but I have much more muscle, broader shoulders, a chest that's shaping into a barrel, etc.

I was still an egotistical, validation-seeking twit, but I was improving. My wife's attitude started turning around too. She was happier, stopped drinking so much, stopped saying "ILYBINILWY" types of things, and it was nice. I stepped it up more and more with working out, improving my life, and started to look at myself more critically. My ego was shrinking, my confidence growing, and my wife found my reddit account-

That was a record scratch. I was maybe 5 months into it when she first found out about fight club. I left it up on my computer, and she read it. And read it. And read it. Boy, when I got home I had some 'splaining to do! I was nervous as shit. I had read warnings about not letting the wife see anything here, that it's welcoming shit tests, etc. Over the course of that month I found that the more I addressed (read: validated) her concerns, the worse her attitude was. The more I fogged and joked it off, the better her attitude was. It was like she was waiting for my cue as to what to act like. Should she be a harpy? Or a happy wife? Fuck- I was getting a dose of the leader/submissive wife dynamic. I was becoming a container that she could conform to.

The more I improved, the better I looked, the smaller my ego became, the more we fucked. I started getting unsolicited blow jobs. I would be starting a bench workout and she would pull my shorts down, straddle, and ride as I did a set. It was like she took some magic always-wet pill and I had more sex than I knew what to do with. I remember reading field reports here, and on TRP, about this very thing and thinking they were full of shit. Some of them probably still were, but not all of them. That was now apparent.

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Today

I still have work to do. A lot of work. A lifetime of work. I'm happier now though. I feel better. Stronger, and confident. I'm working on leaving my job now for something new and better. I have an interview next week, and I've been testing for the last two months now. My wife and I have frequent sex, though of course it could always be more frequent, and better. She's becoming a very good, peaceful wife. We're filling the leader/submissive marriage paradigm out nicely. She started working out and eating right after seeing the progress I was making.

Of course, this is only a condensed version of my story. I didn't talk about how angry I was, how helpless I felt at times, or how depressed I was when I found out that she couldn't love me the way I love her. I didn't talk about how I went from focusing on her to just on myself- that part is in the books. The only reason my life is better now, the only reason I'm happy now, is because I put in the work. I logged the hours, and put in every effort.

I read the material. I read the posts. I read the books. I reread. I practiced what they said. I reread. I practiced and I read. Practice makes perfect, and reading hones the practice. Lifting helped give me a more patient and stoic attitude. Reading the posts and comments here nearly every day helped me stay grounded and focused in what I was doing. I still have an ego. I still need a better social circle. I still need to improve certain hobbies. I'm nowhere near perfect, but I'm happy. And I'm confident that my life now is a better one, and that I'll be even happier 5 years from now.

If you're not sure if the red pill is right for you, if it will "work", you need to remember one thing. You are working for yourself, building a better man. Don't do any of this to make a woman happy. Don't do it to impress all the internet alphas. Do it because you want to be a better man, and live a better life. Or don't and be a faggot. It's up to you.