Category Archives: Marriage

All Men Are Like That

Ok so I have a story today for the ladies. Just go ahead and raise your hand if you’ve been there. The other day I was at the end of my rope so I accepted to go out with this guy. I gave him my number and that evening (it was still daylight) I spent a couple of hours with him. He kept exclaiming “I promise I’m not the kind of guy that’s going to try to get into your pants.” I was just thinking Yeah, right. I was the one who picked him up due to a supposed medical condition that was temporarily preventing him from driving. I told him so long as he wasn’t packing any drugs or no stuff like that I’d hang out with him, he responded saying he only had his cigarettes and beer. I went over to where he lived and we stayed on the front porch for a few minutes and conversed with a couple of others, then we took off.

We went somewhere just to sit and talk and then he started drinking some more. The conversation wasn’t bad at first, we were just talking a bit about our lives and ourselves. Then all of a sudden out of nowhere he leans over the seat like he was about to go full make-out session on me or something. I quickly jerked out of the way as a self-defense mechanism. He then exclaims “Like chill out I was just wanting to kiss you on the cheek! That’s all!” I hesitated for a minute before saying “OK”. I let him kiss me on the cheek, trying to just be as still as possible even though I was totally uncomfortable.

Then somehow the conversation turns (I guess he was starting to get drunk or something, he kind of sounded like it. He only had one beer with him but there’s no telling how long or how much he had drank before) and he starts telling me all about how he’s got a piercing down there and about how all the ladies on Facebook were always asking to see his c*ck. I’m just sitting there thinking TMI!!!!! I was not impressed in the slightest. I then was glad when he wanted to leave so he could get another beer (because I was thinking great opportunity for me to ditch this mother******* and then speed away in the opposite direction).

But oh no! This was not the last of it. He then asks me if he could bum a dollar off of me (one single ***^&&%% dollar!) to get another beer. “But I’ll like pay you back tomorrow!” he whines at me. I told him “no” that I wasn’t going to lend him money to buy a beer. I start driving off and then he all of a sudden reaches his hand over and grabs onto my upper thigh. “This is how I always ride with a girl” he exclaims to me. My only reaction was to cringe and feel like opening the door so I could puke. I pushed down just a bit harder on the gas peddle as I looked straight ahead. He then starts exclaiming “Girl, you’ve got a four-wheel drive! Why are you babying this truck? Didn’t you see that guy back there? He knows how to go fast. He was speeding past us, he knows how to drive a truck!”

I just ignored him at that point, though I did give the truck some gas and started intentionally letting it slide around the next corner Dukes of Hazzard style, which caused him to release his grip on my thigh (the intended purpose). I was just thinking Is that good enough for you mother f*&((&&??? why don’t you go drive your own rig the way it *should* be drove??

Then the guy looks over at me and starts exclaiming “I know you’ve been thinking about f***ing me.” I just laughed and said “Haha yeah. Sure!” in a sarcastic way while all the while thinking You’ve got about a snowball’s chance in Hades…freak. He then starts talking nasty and using foul language and telling me all about how his piercing could make my **** ****** while I just looked straight ahead trying my best to ignore him,growing more repulsed by the second.

Then I take him to his home and he bums a couple of dollars off of an older woman who was living with him and I take him to the nearest store for a beer. He then decides he wants two of them and looks at me as if pleading for me to let him buy two beers instead of one “But **** drank my other two beers!” I just looked at him and said “I’m not paying for your beer,” very matter-of-factly. He then gets two and counts out enough change at the counter to enable him to buy both beers (surprise, surprise!) while exclaiming to the woman behind the counter “I’ve got to see if I have enough change. Boss lady here won’t let me get two beers!” I just stared at him, saying nothing, my mouth gaping open with a look of disgust on my face. We then leave again. At least he held the door open for me, that was probably the only plus about the guy. He wanted to go somewhere else and talk but I just told him “Um, well, it’s getting late. I need to get going” as a polite way of trying to end things, you know.

I start driving back to where he lives and when we get on his street he sees some guy he knows outside in his yard and says something. I look over to the guy he’s talking about, having to squint a little so I could see well, and then he thinks it’s funny to all of a sudden exclaim “You sl*t! Checking out some other guy while you’re out with me!” I just turned my head away from him, my mouth gaping open, with an expression that said Oh my God! He actually thought that was funny? No wonder he hasn’t been laid in two years (that’s what he said, anyway. He asked me when the last time I had an orgasm was, and I very matter-of-factly told him “The last time I had sex with my husband. In fact, I had two.”). He then promptly apologized to me but it still took every ounce of self-restraint I had within me to keep from turning around and smacking the ever-living fuck out of him. I should have slammed on the brakes and told him to walk home, but being the nice (probably too nice) person that I am, I drove him back. I talked with him for a minute while he stood outside the truck, exclaiming to me how pretty my eyes were and how he wished I’d send him a “selfie” of that “gorgeous fucking smile” of mine. I then said goodbye as politely as I could and drove off. I deleted his number and never answered another text from him and he seriously didn’t understand why I just ignored him the next day.

Of course, I didn’t like the guy. I was just lonely needing some attention. He was good looking enough, I suppose; about 6-foot-one, 185 pounds, former boxer, but I didn’t care. I didn’t lie to the guy. I told him I was lonely and needed someone to talk to. I never led him on or anything. Hopefully he’ll get the hint I’m not interested and just leave it be. I told my husband about it and he laughed asking me if I had picked up a stalker, though I was afraid if I told him the real details about what the guy said and did that he would hunt him down and kill him or something, so I gave him the edited version of the story.

The only thing I wanted was to be home with my husband, but he ignored me so I came back, put my daughter to bed and made sure she was taken care of before I went and found a secluded spot to go get drunk, all the while believing he didn’t love me anymore. Me and the bottle had ourselves an in-depth conversation about life until my husband finally found me and carried me back in the house while I held onto him telling him I wanted and needed him.

But, anyway, men have no right to complain about modern women before they look in the mirror and take a good hard look at themselves. Your s**** stinks just like everyone else’s, so don’t think you’re somehow above all the flaws of being human or immune to acting on impulse or acting on emotions or desires. How that guy acted is how a lot of men are these days (and he was ten years my senior!!), and women are sick of them. All relationships take time to develop. It takes time to develop trust and to be able to make yourself vulnerable to another person; for a man to feel safe providing for and protecting a woman and for a woman to feel safe enough to give her body and submission to a man and depend on him. It doesn’t happen overnight, and in life we’ll all find few such people we can trust enough to share our lives with, perhaps only one person.

But in reality, a woman’s actions are sometimes a cry for help. It’s the man’s job to lead and he needs to be aware of what’s going on around him, and my husband should have been paying attention and never let things get so bad. I wanted him to reign me back in, but he instead did the opposite. He did try to regain control when I came back to him, but he did it the wrong way and said a lot of bad things to me. But I just want to be home, as my heart is truly still here. You don’t just throw away so many years as if it never happened. No man could ever compare to one that has sheltered me from the world and provided for me for all of these years.

Viewing Women as Expendable

I’m doing something that I’ve loved to do so many times before. I’m secluded with nothing but the tranquility of nature to sooth me. There’s no sounds of the modern world for as far as my eyes can see and as far as my ears can hear. There’s nobody around. I love to lie out on the ground under the sun, my raven hair left free and natural to fall in waves down my back, no shoes on my feet.

I’ve discarded all my clothes. I do revel in my sexuality, my femininity. The softness of my breasts exposed to the light of the sun, I love to bring my left leg up from the ground to cover my most intimate places, accentuating the soft and full curves of my hips. It’s true that somebody somewhere might be watching, but I don’t see anything. I don’t hear anything. It’s a sharp contrast between a woman privately indulging in her femininity and a woman spreading her feminine energy and body around knowingly to many men.

But what good are these breasts, if without a love to caress them, to suckle them deeply and gently? What good is a 25-inch waist, if he don’t wrap his hands around it? I was sad and I was lonely, so I asked him to be with me. He got in the truck and I got in the passenger side and we began to drive off, but he hurt me so I asked him to turn around and take me back home. I then took off by myself.

I don’t want this independence, what I want is love. But he gives me no love anymore. I feel miserable and I feel lonely. I can’t remember the last time a day went by without me crying. I want to share a deep love. I want to laugh and smile and be happy. I love the feeling of driving an old pickup truck down a country road with my hair blowing in the wind. I love the simple things in life. But it’s no good without someone to share life with me.

I don’t care about expensive things. A castle is a dark and empty place when you’re all alone. Makeup and pretty clothes are pointless if you don’t have a man to enjoy the sight of you in them. I’m lost on the inside, somehow drained of all life and all hope.

 

***

Men come to the red-pill full of anger, loneliness and pain. The first thing they learn is to lose all love and affection for women. I find this sad. The only thing they will ever attract is women that are just as broken as they are; women that are not mature and won’t do them right. They spend their lives looking for some mystical p*ssy paradise that doesn’t exist, as if they can travel in droves to some foreign country and beautiful “10’s,” (who are so NOT sl*ts like western women!) will flock to them willing and ready to engage in hot threesomes with them at the drop of a hat.

Sorry, but there is no such thing as a p*ssy paradise. Neither is there any such thing as a submissive housewife with a career. You can’t have both. In societies where women do all the work, (such as historical Native American tribes), yeah the women did most all the hard work (if any actually got done at all), but the property and children belong to WOMEN. If your wife got sick of you, she could just take your shit and set it outside the home as a signal that she was dismissing you. A man would own nothing but the clothes on his back (and his weapons). The house and kids were hers. Ouch! So much for the paradise of a good little housewife who also has a career!! But a society like this also never goes anywhere. Native tribes around the world where women held their own and were independent from men were nothing but primitive. While that might be peaceful in some ways, it’s a harsh and rough existence, and men in no way had it easier than women.

Red-pill isn’t traditional. It’s a bunch of woman-haters looking for revenge. But guess what? That will only make your life miserable. If you live your life to hurt others, you will only end up destroying yourself. It’s a life lived without love. It’s a miserable existence and it also shows immaturity. Lots of people are sick of the shit going on these days, they’re sick of feminism, yet at the same time they perpetuate it. I mean, if things were good in society, it’s unlikely that Donald Trump would be president.

You see women as expendable? You see other human beings as expendable? You get sick of them one day and just dump them? Red-pill men like to talk about nothing but how to use and abuse women. They want power with no responsibility. But guess what? It doesn’t work that way. The sad thing is men today are supposedly even physically weaker than what their fathers and grandfathers were- and I believe it.

What kind of society do we live in where men are taught to hate and compete against their OWN women. We’re talking about people of the same nation here, hating each other and loathing each other! How many civilizations can survive civil war like that? And it doesn’t look like we’re doing too well. The women are independent, out-earning their men and even their husbands. They’re also obese and masculine and promiscuous. Men are demotivated, soft, and weak. Both men and women are sick of each other and can’t even form any kind of meaningful relationships!!

Traditional society, yes men own the property and the children (within marriage). But they also had responsibilities. We talk about coverture, which was a good system. The husband did hold all the power, but he couldn’t just kick his wife out when he got tired of her or she did something to displease him. He still had to support her. He still had to provide a home for her. My marriage was probably the most stable and prosperous of any others I’ve known. It’s mostly because of my sexual exclusivity and financial dependence. The two things go together.

I could talk about how men are all day, but there’s problems on top of problems with how modern women are acting. First, you LET these men treat you that way and use you. Stop allowing it! Plain and simple. No matter if you love the man, you must have boundaries. First things first, stop allowing men sexual access outside of a committed relationship (preferably marriage, but these days anything so long as there is real commitment and he’s being responsible).

I’ve said it before, it’s not about seeking dominance over men, but a man simply doesn’t have the RIGHT to control you or have access to your body unless he’s already taken on the appropriate responsibilities. Once he has responsibilities in a committed relationship with you, then he gets to have things his way. But never before that point! Just like in coverture, a woman was a single woman with pretty much all the same rights and responsibilities as a man, but at that point of commitment the man took responsibility to protect and provide for her, and in return he got the rights of property, children, and sexual access whenever he pleased.

Second, stop seeking to be like men. Stop seeking to out-earn them or compete with them. Hit the gym everyday, stop cutting your hair in all these funky ways that make you look terrible. Nobody’s perfect, man or woman, but we can all do a lot better to improve OURSELVES instead of bitching about the opposite sex and about how your wife/girlfriend won’t “get a job” or how men are pigs because they don’t like the fact that your ass hangs off both sides of the chair when you sit down.

Hurt people hurt people. Immature people and people not confident in themselves act in narcissistic ways. It doesn’t have to be that way. Have love in your heart, be a good and honorable person, but have boundaries and life goes a lot smoother. Modern women will always be unhappy with their lives if they follow feminist ways. Modern men will also always be unhappy and miserable and dissatisfied and nothing will ever change unless they ditch the part of the red-pill and modern thinking that seeks to absolve men of masculine responsibility and embrace the parts which DO teach good things, such as the fact that men should be dominant and in charge, and no the sexes are NOT equal. Authoritative benevolence, that’s what it SHOULD be about. Women aren’t men and seeking to expect women to be “adults” in the sense of holding to the responsibilities of men or being given the same rights and set of expectations is completely unreasonable. Plain and simple. It just doesn’t work that way.

It’s Not About the Housework

If there’s one thing that people just never seem to understand, it would be that me being at home for all of these years has nothing at all to do with housework. Whether I spend 5 minutes or 6 hours a day doing housework is completely irrelevant. You always see people attempting to justify the position of “stay at home mothers” by means of what money they might make doing the same jobs outside of the home. They’ll say things like “stay at home mothers spend x amount of time washing dishes” or “x amount of time running the kids to school and x amount of time cooking and sweeping floors,” and etc…etc…etc… But what is never mentioned is that women working has nothing to do with housework but everything to do with independence from men.

I cry all the time at work, but not because I “don’t want to work.” It has nothing to do with that. I could get on my hands and knees and scrub my house from top to bottom, and while I might complain about the work itself, I would be happy. I would be happy because I was doing something that was worthwhile. Sweeping my own home and doing the dishes and scrubbing down the bathroom and doing the laundry for my own household has value and merit. I’m “going somewhere” when I do those things even if I do them day in and day out. What is the value and purpose of me doing those things outside of the home? If I was a man it might have more value and merit because it would enable me to move up in the world, have power and independence and provide for a family or something. But I’m not a man, nor do I want to be a man. I don’t want to be “powerful.” In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I’ve always felt happier being powerless.

When I was younger I loved working. I loved going out and making money and having independence. But that all changed once I became a wife and mother. After I became a wife and mother I began to break down in tears (the same as I’m doing right now, even after all these years) at the very thought of going out and making my own money. It’s not because I’m somehow “lazy” or any sort of bullshit like that. It’s because I feel the femininity inside of me. It’s because I don’t want to be independent. I wanted to be feminine and nurturing, depending on a man and having my sexuality belonging only to one man.

They push the two-income model of families on all of us because they don’t want women to be dependent on men, and that’s what it’s all about. If women went home, then men could control women via money and the regulation of women’s sexuality by making women dependent on men. Me being home all of these years has never been about housework, it’s been about me depending on a husband to care for me, and me having paid employment of any kind (even part-time) destroys all of that, and that is why women have to work in our society. That is why it is pushed on us. Because if women didn’t work, especially after marriage, then feminism couldn’t exist.

I wouldn’t mind making less than a man, if I knew that it was generally accepted and understood by society that men were supposed to be taking care of women. Not at all. I don’t want to be any man’s “equal,” and I would never want to be in a position of power where I was some man’s boss or anything. It wouldn’t feel right. The first thing that happens when I’ve ever been attracted to a man is that I feel like I want to submit to him, to be taken care of by him, like I’m safe with him and don’t have anything to worry about. It’s just this natural instinct that I feel when I feel that polarity and attraction. I don’t want to be independent. That’s why I never went out and worked, and that’s why the thought of working sickens me and makes me cry my eyes out. Because I feel it, I feel it so deeply inside of me, that femininity, as if it determines everything about me- and I love it.

And more power does mean more responsibility, but that’s part of being a man. Women hand over a great deal of rights to be taken care of and provided for, and are usually happier for it. It’s pathetic that the men of our society would send their wives out into the workforce to help provide for the family. What kind of a man would do such a thing? Apparently not much of one given how emasculated the men of society are today. A man should feel like an utter failure, like he has lost a part of his masculinity, by needing the “help” of a woman, especially his own wife and mother of his children, to help provide for him or his family. Any man that would expect his wife to be out in the workforce should be beat- and that’s the truth. Why would any man want to send his wife out there like that??

That’s what it’s all about. And I would really like to understand why on earth paid employment is always supposed to be the cure for boredom? I don’t see anybody in the workforce except for the biggest losers in history not being able to find something to do when they aren’t working. When I’m not busy with housework or errands I simply find something else I like doing, which is the same thing anybody else does after work. How is this even an issue?

Also, me marrying young and having no income or independence of my own has protected me. It’s forced me to stay under the authority of one man and kept my family intact and prevented me from having all kinds of failed relationships and multiple sexual partners, not to mention the “blended family” where people have children from different fathers/mothers. I’m as old as I am now having only slept with my husband. If I had been an independent woman or had waited until later in life to get married (even if I only waited until my mid-20s or something) that probably wouldn’t be the case. Therefore my innocence and femininity was protected, and I was protected. I always took my sexuality very serious and still do. I can’t imagine allowing any man but the most important and beloved to penetrate me! Dear God, how can that be casual???

So yeah, I cry my fucking eyes out because of paid employment, but it’s not because i’m lazy or anything of the sort, and I won’t be told that by anybody. I did take on a part-time job that I do like. It’s simple and laid back and I might stay there just as a way of having a little bit of spending/saving money. But even then the woman training me today was giving us advice on how not to get bored!!! But I still stopped by at my husband’s work and sat in the parking lot crying my eyes out outside of the shop. He came out to my car and held me for a minute and told me to call the place I had been working and tell them that I wouldn’t be coming back.

And no, I don’t want to go back, but I am for a week or two because I promised the owner I would be there when she needed me for the next couple of weeks. I wasn’t just going to walk out on her. I’m keeping a promise (something some people in this world are still honorable enough to do) even though it’s killing me. After that I will probably keep my other small part time job (only about 24 hours a week) because it’s more laid back and fun, and a place I’m familiar with and close to home. I know that working was a mistake, but in some ways I guess it was a lesson I had to learn. I just don’t have that drive of independence and probably never will have.

I Don’t Care About Money

I came home Sunday with plentiful money from work, but I didn’t care. I did nothing but cry the entire way home, in fact. I didn’t care about the money at all, because it’s not like it was making me happy. My first thought was to come home and throw all the cash to the wind. Within only a few days of having paid employment I’ve been able to put a lot of money back in savings, and while it’s nice to have, I really don’t like it.

We live in this world that tells women to go out and work and be independent. It amazes me as much as it sickens me the way our society is. It isn’t even thought that a man should be providing for his wife or that men should take care of women. Just suggest such a thing, and you have a mental disorder. Just suggest there are differences between men and women or that men should provide and you could start a damned riot (it’s happened).

If you look at family law, it makes no distinctions between sex. Instead of marriage being seen as an institution for men to provide for and protect women and children, it’s some genderless institution now were spouses provide for *each other.* The whole idea of marriage being about us providing for each other just makes me feel kind of sick. It makes me lose respect for marriage, for men, for society. Most people just cohabit these days, proving all the more that marriage has lost the deeper meaning that it once had and anyone who truly believes it has nothing to do with women having careers is retarded.

I know what I’ve always felt, that I wanted to bond with a man who would provide for me and take care of me. My senses are very dulled now. In some ways me going out and taking on paid employment (for the first time EVER in our marriage, and we’ve been married since I was practically a teenager) has helped the marriage because it’s confirmed what I’ve always felt in my heart and it’s made my husband become angry and want all the more to get up and stop acting like a wimp the way he had been acting. It’s also worth noting that I only took on paid employment to separate from him, lending further credit to the claim that women having careers is damaging relations between men and women and undermining the true meaning of marriage.

People look at me strange that I would be as old as I am with no career and little to no work experience. The good news for me is that everyone unanimously thought I was no older than 19 or 20 years old (my employer even asked if I was old enough to be serving alcohol over the phone (she didn’t have my app in front of her at the time to see my real age)).

Nobody believes I’m truly as old as I am, which also confirms that living a traditional lifestyle has preserved my youth, preserved my innocence and beauty and kept me more feminine. (It’s probably one of the best anti-aging secrets ever. Just be feminine, just be happy and joyful and full of love, depending on a man and admiring men in general and focusing on keeping fit and feminine and doing housework and helping your man and being there for him).

Guess what? I don’t care what people think. I feel no shame in not having had a career. If they reject me for that, it’s their problem. I don’t care what my mother or anyone else in the world thinks. I don’t want to live the way they do and have the disastrous relationships they’ve always had. I’m much happier being feminine. I take pride in NOT being a career woman. If anyone asks me I’ll simply tell them that I never believed women should really be out there working. We’re women, there’s no shame in being weak, or even unsuccessful for that matter. Being docile, being weaker, depending on a man, being soft and receptive are all feminine traits, and they are nothing to be ashamed of.

I think it’s better if us girls marry real young and stay under the protection and authority of a husband. It PROTECTS us. It keeps you from getting hurt by other men or swayed and it keeps women from running wild to their detriment and the detriment of families and children.

Is there really a better life to be had otherwise? So what if you marry real young and have a kid or two young and stay home? Are women really much happier screwing around and wasting their youth and beauty on men who don’t deserve them, don’t cherish or provide for them while they go pursue some meaningless career that won’t amount to anything true and real in the end?

While everyone likes and needs money, after a certain point, once your basic needs are met and you are comfortable, more money won’t make you any happier. Is the point of life really to make a six-figure salary especially when as a woman it’s not going to do anything for your sexuality or better your chances with anything other than some “weak” man who wouldn’t cherish you as a woman, for everything feminine and unique about you? And as a woman do you really want a man that needs or wants your money? A man who isn’t strong enough to provide for you or protect you, both from immediate danger and from the harshness of the world (which includes the burden of working out of the home)?

Yes, I have a paying job right now, but I don’t like the idea of it. Our daughter is moving into her preteen years (almost) so the burden of childcare isn’t what it once was, but just the simple fact that I have my own money means I don’t NEED my husband to provide. Yes, he provides for me still fully, but it feels more like I’m simply letting him do it, instead of truly relying on him and needing him to do it. I also know that I’m still needed at home. Who cares what the world thinks, a woman’s husband is supposed to be her authority. If she keeps the home and stays there, she only focuses on him. What others think doesn’t matter.

I get depressed at work. Thoughts keep running through my head that I should just go home and focus on the house and just be what I’ve always been, which is simply a wife and mother. I figure for now I’ll stay there as I’ve made friends and feel like I have a home away from home. I don’t know. I just figure I’ll stay unless or until they want to let me go or something happens in life where I know it’s truly time to quit and come home.

My husband does not like me working and does want me to come home. I’m not sure if I’m ready to come home though. I just don’t know. This is all very hard for me and very new. I just want to be the feminine woman I once was, keeping the home and loving my family with the same childlike innocence and demeanor that I always have, unconcerned about the outside world. I don’t care about independence. I don’t care about equal pay or any of the mainstream women’s rights bullshit. And I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks of me. Their comments about me “getting a job” will not sway me, because I know who I am as a woman. As odd as it might seem, I don’t get into those kinds of conversations. There is no need. I just simply smile if anyone ever makes a comment about me having a career. I just simply let my femininity shine through and speak for itself. And trust me, men really don’t give a shit about your career, but they do care about your femininity.

When It’s Over

I cry for what once was, and what I know never will be again. So many times I’ve tried to tell him, tried to make him understand, but he would never listen, and I know in my heart that when the money and children are no longer issues anymore, when that day comes, that I’ll be moving on. Being alone is a better fate than dealing with this disappointment and resentment that I now feel everyday inside.

And I know that it’s this disappointment, hatred, and outright resentment- the same that I feel inside- that is at the heart of feminism, that is at the heart of the manosphere. If he tries to be an asshole, I scoff at him, because I know he’s not genuine; I know he’s not real. He might try to push me around, to hold me down, but I just turn my head to the side and ignore him and soon enough he gives up. Yet when he tries to be soft, I only resent him all the more for being weak. I know there’s nothing he can do anymore. I don’t even feel anything anymore but a lingering sense of a life gone wrong.

I was looking at an old picture from when I was 22 and I just wanted to cry. I remember that innocence, I remember so fondly those days when he was my everything. I read about the women and their taken in hand relationships and I cry all the more. We used to be that way. There’s this need inside that’s so undeniably real that it’s become a physical ache and taken a psychological toll on me to the extent that I don’t even know who I am anymore. I just sit down and cry. I need something, yet that something just isn’t him. And I know that if he can’t give me what I need, I’ll just end up having to find it elsewhere eventually. That’s just truth, that’s just reality.

It was once mine, being under that authority of a man who loved me, cared for me, cherished me. And I know, the laws have made it to where men can’t have authority, that men have to live in fear of ever exerting that authority, lest they all of a sudden become criminals and branded as misogynists. It makes it hard for women who need their men to be men and it makes the men of society so soft that women just resent them.

And it’s this displacement, I know, that drives the manosphere. The anger is there and very real, because there’s no real femininity. Just like my anger that that masculinity is gone. I don’t want him to be a jerk, but at the end of the day dealing with an asshole would be a better fate than having no masculinity at all. And I figure that’s what drives women to jerks, to sadomasochism lifestyles, because something has just gone so horribly wrong inside. But then it just breeds more brokenness, more emptiness and the cycle just never ends. It’s vicious and it’s real. He wasn’t being the man he should have been, and in turn I just became a broken woman that holds no real hope for anything in her heart.

What can I ever do? Every time in my life I’ve had issues with men it’s on account of misplaced masculinity, either on account of men not owning up to their duties and responsibilities, or because of men losing their masculinity all together. Love is hard to find, and we once had that love. But I feel nothing anymore. Pretty, sunny days bring nothing but heartache. They bring nothing but pain. They’re like a false sense of hope. Looking back at what I once had, but knowing those days are over, I join the fate of millions of others who have long ago given up.

I know I tried to ask him to be a man, to do something, but he wouldn’t. He’d never believe the words I’d say, he’d never take me seriously. I long to be cherished and loved, but not from a man who’s weaker than me, not from a man I can’t genuinely look up to.

That hurts the most, the remembrance of intimacy with a strong man who cherished and provided for me, a man who I knew wouldn’t do me wrong and up and leave me afterward or disappear.

I’m not the only woman who feels the things I feel inside, I never have been. And I don’t care what people think of me. They don’t like me anyway, so what’s to lose? And I know that it’s me, that orphan girl, always looking for a home, always looking for a place I can belong- always seeking, yet never finding.

I understand that anger, I understand that pain. Traditional women aren’t crazy, they’re content. Masculinity isn’t being a jerk, nor is it being soft. I know when he’s not genuine, and I don’t think there’s anything he can ever do to get that authenticity back. I don’t want to be used or degraded in the slightest, but loved. But when he’s lost my respect, when I no longer believe the words he says or put any faith in him anymore, then it’s over. Repairing the damage done, if it can ever even be repaired, will be a long journey.

You can never turn back the hands of time, to undo what’s already been done, to re-grant back to me what once was mine. And I know there are no other men in this society. I don’t even hope for that. I just do what other women do, which is doing for myself, just like the men of the manosphere want to go their own way because of their disappointment and distrust of today’s women, I find myself wanting to go my own way. Now many will be so glad for me if I don’t depend on a man- but I’m not glad. I’m not happy- not at all- because I can’t be feminine without a man who is correspondingly masculine.