In twenty-seven years or so there was never any lasting period where I was attractive. I read The Game age around 20 so I knew the basics, started lifting and was naturally good looking anyway but never ever had even the sort of moderate success I felt I should have been having.
I understood frame, negs, push-pull and was socially likeable anyway but it just wasn’t working. But one thing changed all that. And no I didn’t become rich or famous.
I moved three hours away. That was it.
This city was slightly bigger, prettier and less violent than my hometown. But that wasn’t the point.
I felt energised, liberated and free. I liked that virtually no one knew me. I gave people a break. I didn’t look at those from certain areas with suspicion. I didn’t know the city’s criminal element by face and name. I didn’t have a group of friends (crabs on the barrel) whose leisure time always ended up in drug-fuelled madness. And I hadn’t experienced rejection en masse by the girls in this city.
In short, I was happy. Although momentarily unhappy for not doing it sooner.
People and places became a pleasure. And part of that was women. My happiness was making my physically and mentally vital to the point of effortlessness in my social interactions.
If you’re hometown is dragging you down, holds many unpleasant memories and is essentially a place that reminds you of the old you. Then leave. Yesterday. Nothing will improve yourself quicker.