This article made some waves a few weeks ago, painting a vivid picture of the modern post-graduate dating world that the manosphere so loves. In a nutshell, it revolves around the age discrepancy between the male and female “peak” and how the decision of peak females (18-24) to largely ignore the 90% of 18-24 year old males who fall in the “stumbling beta” category — preferring to spend their youth on the oft-mentioned “cock carousel” — will come back to bite them later in life. As it details, when the female careerists hit their thirties and start clamoring for marriage, the betas they spurned in college will finally have manned up and started playing the field, leaving them lonely and past their prime. Game over, spinstresses.
I bring this up now because at 26, I’ve hit the tipping point. I was fortunate enough to discover mASF in high school, and internalized the concepts of kino and body language at the age of 16. In college, I was probably a “lesser alpha” — always with a harem of 2 or 3 decent looking girls. Dated a few bangers, harem was usually 5-7s, by the standards of the city I lived in, if I’m honest.
I bring this up because I was never a loser, but things are changing in a way I never expected: Sex is not just easy anymore, it’s something I don’t have to work for. And it’s not because I’m gaming anyone or opening sets, or following the right techniques. It’s Spring out here. Mating season just rolled around, and six girls mysteriously texted, called, or facebooked me this week to hang out, out of the blue. Girls have been asking for my number at bars recently, and I haven’t been hitting any “realizations” or “breakthroughs” in game. It’s just being a high value man in a shifting market.
What’s the point of writing this? Well, first of all, because I sure as shit wish someone told me this would happen when I was 20. It was never a struggle, but I still had to work for it, and I would have discarded the assumption that women are intrinsically higher value than men long ago if I knew the relationship would flip 10 years down the road.
Second, because it’s changing the way I see women for the better, and that’s something I’ve been searching for for a long time. Krauser wrote about the Dark Side of manipulating women, and it’s something I dislike about my personal game, and who I became. Pickup, and the study of mating systems and evo psych in general, made me view women unsympathetically, as rational competitors with counteractive mating strategies.
Well, with the ball in your court, something happens. You start to realize that all those girls you wished you could fuck — and even if you were fucking 3 others who were just as hot, you always resented that you couldn’t have her too, and resented the challenge to your total entitlement — are really just 7’s, who are a few years from being 4’s. I resented the way that a woman who was less attractive than me could still speak to me like there were a dozen other men just like me, somewhere else. Because there were.
For a man, love is intrinsically linked to protecting and providing, and I never wanted to protect or provide for women until I stopped viewing them as challengers. Ending up on top was the first step to overcoming this, in a big way. They don’t run the show forever, and understanding this was the first step towards sympathy.
It also opened my eyes to true beauty in a way that I could never see before. When you can choose between 10 women, the shit they worry about in beauty magazines start seeming relevant. You’ll actually be more interested in one girl or another because of her eyelashes, or how thick her hair is. But most of all, you’ll realize that beauty is something you feel, and not something you analyze and interpret. When you cease to be afraid of women altogether, you’ll meet them looking for beauty, instead of defending your ego.
What I’ve found is that, where women are concerned, youth is beauty and beauty is youth. I used to judge beauty on C-cups, and height, and waist size, and hair color. Now, I just look at their faces and see it. Between 18 and 24, beautiful women radiate something in youth, that gives joy, enthusiasm, excitement, innocence, and trust to the men who love them. Beautiful women stay beautiful, but that youth fades, and that is the central tragedy of female life. That the whole time I was figuring things out, having flings, and preparing to start my life, they were living the most important part of theirs. That now, just as mine is beginning, theirs is coming to an end, punctuated by 50 years of declining beauty.
How many women will I look back on as “a girl I knew 10 years ago, before I was king” when they’ll look back on me as “a boy I loved when I was in my prime”? Every relationship I’ve had in 10 years has been prologue to my real life. For them, it was a major chapter in a much shorter shelf life. Enter the world with this mindset, and it will change everything.
So how could I not be sympathetic? Their time is coming to a close, and the struggle is over for me. When you see it like this, you learn to appreciate beauty, you understand the mortality of female joy, and all you want is to give them something to remember, before it’s too late.