(Apologies in advance for the blogpost, but it is to inform the context of the one seeking guidance, as my life has been largely atypical in this regard.)
A few years into being redpilled now, making some improvements in my life, and I've been doing a lot of self reflection. Something that I've come to realize about myself is that I have been a hopeless romantic from a very young age. Barely ever experiencing a cooties phase, I've always been taken with the beauty of woman and have desperately wanted one to call my own. One to love, to protect, to give children.
However, I didn't have a good start in life in this regard. Though a part of me still loves him, my father was a low T, hedonistic deadbeat who was eventually henpecked to divorce by my mother. I unwittingly replicated his footfalls, becoming a video gaming recluse and developing a raging addiction to extremely bizarre pornography by the age of 13, a sorry state that would continue unabated all the way through adulthood. And even before this I was a shut in on account of being homeschooled.
As such, I have daunting social anxiety and virtually zero experience with women. On the few occasions throughout my life that I came within orbit of opportunities, I dropped the ball hard out of fear, and a gross misunderstanding of how to navigate female psychology (No Rizz.) The only girl I ever dated was a brown whore who almost certainly had a triple digit body count, an ill-fated affair that gracelessly fizzled out within a month.
In my life, this has left me bitter and blackpilled about my chances with women. The eternal crybaby, I would always moan about my misfortune to anyone who would listen, cursing that my fate was to die alone as though it had already come to pass. Indeed, some of this has even dribbled into posts I've made on this very forum.
Though I've long convinced myself of my own wallowing sentiments being plain objectivity, I understand now that it's all just been miserable coping to justify never even trying anymore. Well, after waking up to many truths previously obscured, and removing the fog from my eyes by destroying my worst vices, I have now decided to emphatically say:
Fuck that.
I am 25 years of age. Despite my mental inhibitions, I am reasonably attractive, in acceptable shape and coming from a line of tall, handsome White men. I have no debt, a decent career, and a snowballing nest egg that will very likely net me a paid off homestead by as early as age 30. It's too early in life, with too many blessings therein, to give up on my greatest desire, which is a noble thing for any man to strive for.
But in this endeavor, I need help. I am still a recluse without a network or any social rituals, and I understand that this likely must change. I am willing to try anything to further my goal, to put myself out there relentlessly, but I don't know where to start.
If my single minded objective is to find a woman, how should I be spending my time? Where should I go on weekends? What hobbies, social or otherwise, should I take up? In which areas of my life should I be most directly focusing my ongoing self improvement efforts? Are dating apps worth using as a secondary angle of attack? How does courting a girl in the 21st century actually work?
You get the picture. My spirit is willing, but I am the biggest autist in normietown, completely out of my depth in this endeavor even in the most cursory matters. Please give me the advice on finding a mate that my dad never did, ConPro.
If you read this, thank you and God bless.
A few years into being redpilled now, making some improvements in my life, and I've been doing a lot of self reflection. Something that I've come to realize about myself is that I have been a hopeless romantic from a very young age. Barely ever experiencing a cooties phase, I've always been taken with the beauty of woman and have desperately wanted one to call my own. One to love, to protect, to give children.
However, I didn't have a good start in life in this regard. Though a part of me still loves him, my father was a low T, hedonistic deadbeat who was eventually henpecked to divorce by my mother. I unwittingly replicated his footfalls, becoming a video gaming recluse and developing a raging addiction to extremely bizarre pornography by the age of 13, a sorry state that would continue unabated all the way through adulthood. And even before this I was a shut in on account of being homeschooled.
As such, I have daunting social anxiety and virtually zero experience with women. On the few occasions throughout my life that I came within orbit of opportunities, I dropped the ball hard out of fear, and a gross misunderstanding of how to navigate female psychology (No Rizz.) The only girl I ever dated was a brown whore who almost certainly had a triple digit body count, an ill-fated affair that gracelessly fizzled out within a month.
In my life, this has left me bitter and blackpilled about my chances with women. The eternal crybaby, I would always moan about my misfortune to anyone who would listen, cursing that my fate was to die alone as though it had already come to pass. Indeed, some of this has even dribbled into posts I've made on this very forum.
Though I've long convinced myself of my own wallowing sentiments being plain objectivity, I understand now that it's all just been miserable coping to justify never even trying anymore. Well, after waking up to many truths previously obscured, and removing the fog from my eyes by destroying my worst vices, I have now decided to emphatically say:
Fuck that.
I am 25 years of age. Despite my mental inhibitions, I am reasonably attractive, in acceptable shape and coming from a line of tall, handsome White men. I have no debt, a decent career, and a snowballing nest egg that will very likely net me a paid off homestead by as early as age 30. It's too early in life, with too many blessings therein, to give up on my greatest desire, which is a noble thing for any man to strive for.
But in this endeavor, I need help. I am still a recluse without a network or any social rituals, and I understand that this likely must change. I am willing to try anything to further my goal, to put myself out there relentlessly, but I don't know where to start.
If my single minded objective is to find a woman, how should I be spending my time? Where should I go on weekends? What hobbies, social or otherwise, should I take up? In which areas of my life should I be most directly focusing my ongoing self improvement efforts? Are dating apps worth using as a secondary angle of attack? How does courting a girl in the 21st century actually work?
You get the picture. My spirit is willing, but I am the biggest autist in normietown, completely out of my depth in this endeavor even in the most cursory matters. Please give me the advice on finding a mate that my dad never did, ConPro.
If you read this, thank you and God bless.
After everything is done, no matter how interesting you are, you will RUN OUT OF STORIES. YOU WILL RUN OUT OF SEX. YOU WILL RUN OUT OF NEW. And then what are you left with? Some old bitch you used to like fucking? Or a friend? Someone you liked to be around WITHOUT the sex tension or predator hunt.
Thats a real relationship. Until you realize that you are just stuck on the disappointment train my friend.
It’s your job as a male to selectively filter. That’s how you ensure the continuation of your bloodline.
YOUR strategy is how you end up with mongoloid, degenerate hybrids.