I’ve talked a little before about how my life was back in the bad old days when my idea of wooing a woman was to follow her around like a newly hatched gosling in the hopes that she might somehow turn around and see all the amazingness I had to offer. I had all sorts of brilliant theories1 but they were all going sorely untested, and I was bitter and resentful. There I was, radiating “for fuck’s sake, somebody love me” as hard as I possibly could and it was getting me nowhere.
I couldn’t talk to girls without coming off either as sarcastic and angry (my default state) or sarcastic and depressed (my other state) with occasional helpings of tongue-tied and utterly desperate for any dollop of attention2 women might be willing to bestow on me. At the same time, I would chase after women I subconsciously knew were unobtainable, developing crushes that were clearly A LOVE TO LAST THE AGES! and getting even more depressed when nothing ever happened.
On the rare occasions I DID manage to get a date with someone, I was so determined to make up for lost time3 that I usually ended up screwing things up by pushing too hard or dating women I really should have known were bad news for me.
So the majority of my dating life was misery to put it mildly. After all, I was The One Who Wasn’t Good With Girls. But none of this was my fault. I was a caught up in the cruel whims of an uncaring universe, tossed about in a world where the path of the righteous man – as I surely was – was beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men.
When I was in high-school I could look at my lack of success and point at others as to why I was bad with women. I blamed my brother and my friend Miles – how was I, a beta male if ever there was one, supposed to compete when these two were around, radiating all their jockish-charm? I literally watched a girl make a point of ignoring me in order to hook up with Miles. I blamed all of the women I went to high-school with – they were too status obsessed or into dating the assbags from the other schools to recognize how cool I was deep down and how much I had to offer.
When I got to college, I couldn’t blame Miles and the others any more. But it was a culture where clearly women wanted superficial qualities instead of someone who mostly had inner beauty. How was I, a nerd, supposed to compete in a world where anti-intellectualism was cool and I was just a man unappreciated in his time? The relationship I did find in college was great for helping me lose my virginity… but it was also incredibly toxic and emotionally abusive. I stayed in it for years to the dismay of my friends because I thought that this was the best I could do. This was the life that I was fated for, right?
(Spoiler alert: it totally wasn’t.)