Handling A Breakup
It gets better!
Okay, so she doesn’t want to be saved/save herself, etc.
The line has been drawn in the sand. She’s not interested in growing philosophically. She can’t grok the value of curiosity. You’ve explained curiosity to her what feels like a thousand times and still she dumps her reactions onto you and it’s your fault she’s reacting. There’s something wrong with you and she’s concerned. On and on it has gone.
Maybe you even got her to read Stefan Molyneux’s Real-Time Relationships - most don’t! Most women will read like 50 pages and then puss out and make some lame excuse.
Or let’s say she went through a “philosophy phase” and is grandiose enough to think she “figured it all out” only to go back to her same shitty habits she had before you came into her life. She didn’t figure anything out. She just sided with her mediocre, non-philosophical parents over you.
She was of no use.
She didn’t help.
She just parked her fat, entitled butt directly in the path of you and glory - and perhaps gave you some empty sex to try and assuage you. Heaven help you if you made babies together.
In a certain respect, you do come away from this experience seeing that people’s parents really do finish them off. “Friends”, media, social media, public schooling, fake girlboss careers, body count, abortions - all of those contribute to a multiplying effect.
Guys will lament, “I’m not ready to date! I’m not confident enough. My life isn’t decluttered the way it needs to be. I haven’t gotten the big promotion. I live with my parents.”
But that’s a one-sided, self-involved way of looking at what will be a relationship between two people.
When you’re young, as a man, you can hold out longer against the gravitational pull of the FOO.
Your youth and your idealism are great arrows in your quiver.
As she ages, the woman is doubly or triply pressured to return to the FOO, become fat, become normal, take the daycare job promotion, go to the Taylor Swift arena show, and whatever other temptation can be laid out before her. Eventually most government jobs will go to women by government decree. It’s already happening in Scandinavia.
You’ve split up - that’s the point.
Be careful about the running editorial that could be going in your head:
“She was my snookums and literally perfect and I effed it all up, not her, she was perfect!”
“Women are better than men, a scarcer resource, and I should have compromised more.”
“I’ll never find someone as good as her - the perfect tootsie snookums!”
“Oh my gosh, that was so much work. I don’t want to surmount that kind of difficulty again.”
First of all, no woman is perfect. Women poop, too. And they fart. Smelly.
Secondly, women are not better than men. The bankers who run the world hate White men because White men have dignity and believe in freedom when basically nobody else does. Whites are the keystone species of the planet, so to create ecological dominance of another stripe, you have to demoralize them any which way possible so as to reduce their birthrate.
Thirdly, if getting with a woman was a lot of work - you’d be more at ease with more self-knowledge the next time around. That’s how muscles work. You’re able to execute more and more complicated phrases the more you practice.
You have to be willing to examine any thoughts running in your head that are leading to heavy feelings for you.
If anything, I have learned to reject people who are too much work — women included.
A woman doesn’t get a free pass because she has lady features.
If you catastrophize over the loss of a freeloader and a shirker just cause she happens to be a woman, you’re simping.
Heave Ho, as the song goes.
You gotta pull your weight or you’re kind of a Commie.
Women can be Commies.
The more government, the more opportunity for them to do their unconscious resource redistribution thingie.
It gets better:
There are good women out there. There are women who want to grow and improve morally. There are women who will pull their own weight, women of self-respect and virtue.
But they constitute a tiny minority of the planet’s breeding stock.
Every day you flounder in self-doubt, misery, contempt toward women because one hurt you in the past, or whatever other flavor of paralysis you’re carrying around, is a day that the Devil wins. That’s right - a bad banker man is out there, hoping you’ll crap out. The more you fail, the more he buys up Cold War bunkers to turn them into human trafficking hubs.
Don’t let the bad guys win.
Trudge ahead. Others are counting on you.
Oftentimes, the more you overcome, the more you will gain later.
Sometimes, heinous, wicked women are sent the way of Good Men as a test. The Devil’s best foot soldiers are the women, always seeking to redistribute to the weak like they do. They’ll enter the relationship, see themselves as the weak one, and then redistribute everything to themselves.
Just keep going.
You will find happiness.
Hunt in a pack, if need be.