RULES
The Hub is moderated for decorum. Please follow these rules while participating in The Hub:
- Be courteous and friendly to new members.
- Do not attempt to scare off new users from using the platform.
- Do advertise your Tribes and invite users to join conversations in them.
- Always Follow Our Content Policy
These rules only apply to The Hub with the exception of the content policy which is site-wide. Please observe individual tribe rules when visiting other tribes.
Sick of Rules? Want to Shit-talk?
Join The Beer Hall
Want a FLAIR next to your name? Send a message to redpillschool. Reasonable requests will be granted.
Have questions? Ask away here!
Join our chatroom for live entertainment.
So I am retiring the strategy. I am done auditioning for the role of Cool Girl. She was exhausting to play – and frankly, the reviews were mixed. I’m replacing her with a woman who texts back. Who says what she means. Who admits she wants to be held. It is a terrifying bet. It goes against 30 years of training. But I’m betting on this: The right man won’t want a challenge to conquer. He’ll want a partner to rest with. And God knows – I am ready to rest.
One tiny problem there... that right man was 30 years in her past. Your average 50-year old man has too much experience with women and not enough attraction for aged hags for her to have a realistic chance.
I wasn’t training them. I was hiding.
Oh but you were training them you stupid hag. It just wasn't training them to do what you wanted. You were teaching them that "anyone else" would be a better prospect. You and millions upon millions of crones and crones-to-be, all of you marching in lockstep for decades, meaningfully differentiated only by the increasing wrinkles of age etched upon your faces like serial numbers for slags.
And now you have your just rewards. Solitude, desperation, and the indifference of men that realized they can do better than you.
We treat them mean because we think kindness reads as desperation in a woman our age. And the deeply annoying part is: it works. Beautifully. Just in the wrong direction. Treat ‘em mean is a filtration system for avoidants.
Oh look, a split second of clarity...
When you perform unavailability, you don’t attract secure men. Secure men don’t want a puzzle. They want a person. They want to know if you’re free on Friday so they can book a table. Play the game, and you attract the hunters – men who love the chase because the chase requires no intimacy. Men addicted to voltage. To uncertainty. To the spike.
There it is, the cope and blame redirection instead of admitting she was chasing men too far above her station in life instead of settling for a mere mortal on the same level as herself. Bitch-Icarus flew too close to the Chad-sun and her wings melted but somehow that's all his fault.
Drown in the sea you cunt.
Read MoreMost men actually want and benefit most from relationships
Oh yeah? Are those men all using time machines to get women who put real effort in a relationship, instead of just spreading her legs and expecting her man to spoil her for it?
I don't even get what the hamster is doing anymore, what does the modern woman actually believe she's contributing in a serious relationship that compensates all the shit she demands?
Brevity is often valued in writing, so I've decided to help her out. Free edits, you're welcome ma'am.
In my 20s
, this felt like power. (It was mostly fear in better lighting but I didn’t know that yet.) I mastered breezy indifference. I timed my texts to the minute: double the time he took, plus 10 for mystery. I thought I was teaching men my value. I thought I was training them to love me.I was attractive.But I am 51 now
. Looking back on that first year of dating after divorce at 50 – the apps, the profiles, the quiet violence of being matched and discarded by an algorithm – I realise something uncomfortable: I wasn’t training them. I was hiding.and am no longer attractive.
Yep, she looks like plenty of girls that didn't think I was worthy early on.
Men build, women collect gifts.
So it took me a while to build, and now I'm able to do whatever I want. I smile to myself about the girls that passed, they'd shit themselves if they knew what resources I have now. But of course, they all have stretch marks and opinions like the author, and really aren't any fun to be around.
No thanks, I'll keep living my stress-free life.
We are convinced our real selves are simply … too heavy. We have lived. We come with stretch marks and opinions.
Exactly what I'm looking for. A needy post-wall hag with opinions.
"the quiet violence of being matched and discarded by an algorithm"
Ah, yes, those pesky algorithms - the violent part of mathematics.
