Comments by "Tête Dur" (@tetedur377) on "Manosphere"
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One of my father's favorite expressions was "the world doesn't owe you a living." He was a shit father, but that doesn't mean he was wrong about everything.
WOMEN learn from the moment they slide down the chute that the world, one man at a time, owes them a living (and happiness, and stuff). Nobody talks about it, and mothers certainly don't say that part out loud in mixed company, but even early on, there is a disparity in how boy children are treated verses how girl children are treated.
The little c-words grow up believing that Prince Charming will come along, sweep them off their feet, and that they'll live in a palace even grander and more opulent than what they can imagine. With servants. And horses.
Instead of adjusting their expectations when the only single guys are named Earl (Goodbye, Earl), they live bitter lives full of unhappiness, disappointment, and despair, and it's all men's fault for not being Prince Charming.
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I didn't get married until I was in my 40s - 44 to be exact. She was 54. It wasn't a terrible marriage, but here's the thing: I was the retirement plan. She was too old and too tired, had too many medical issues to monkey branch, or help me build a life. She was mostly along for the ride.
I started investing in 2010, so 10 years into my white collar career. In 9 years, with my financial advisor leading the charge, I managed to save and invest nearly a half million. Think how much I could have put aside for retirement if I would have had a help mate, instead of a room mate who spent my money.
Even though she left me in debt when she passed, I paid that off, and am essentially debt free, except for the house. I spend about half of my annual income, so yeah, I'm comfortable. And single. I'm alone, but not lonely. Ain't no man got time for that.
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The 90% of men, those of us that the vast majority of women do not see, okay, are hyper picky for one reason: We are/were the simps. We bow and scrape and do everything for the women we are attracted to - basically, we provide everything that boyfriends and/or husbands do, except conjugal visits.
We are/were the guys in the friend zones. Our female "friends" only want us for what we can do for them, including being an emotional tampon. In some respects, we're slaves to these women, except we nearly always live separately.
We think that somehow, if we're good enough, kind enough, do enough for these women, that eventually, they'll have an "Aha!" moment in the middle of getting their back blown out by Chad and say, "Damn, that Hard Head is a really good guy! He's always there for me, he does lots of things for me, he takes me out, listens to me when I cry about Chad, why am I not with Hard Head?"
And it never happens, even though our friends all thing that there's something more to our relationship than there really is.
Our hyper-pickiness is our way of saying that the woman in our lives wasn't enough for us because we'd never admit that we are/were a simp who provides LTR partnership benefits who her with no reciprocity.
Thankfully, channels like this exist. It's too little, too late for me, since 70 is just over the horizon, but it allows me to see what a simp I was and why, and it allows me to pass on a little of what I've learned in the last few years. It's information I could have used, say 40 years ago.
Well, maybe the next lifetime, if there is such a thing. Who knows? Not me, nor do I care.
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@meddlingmage23 Naw; it's because we all go through a simp period. We get bad gouge from our mothers, and our fathers don't contradict them, because presumably, they still hope to get a shot of leg.
Teachers (who are mostly women) treat us like dysfunctional girls, and the military, for those of us who went in before women ruined it, only had our drunken leaders and horn-dog peers to look to for guidance.
By that time, we're in our late 20s, and in my case, 24, when we said "fuggit" to trying to date. And I didn't for almost 20 years.
I dated a couple of single moms in my life, because at least they were willing to talk to me. The last one was in 1982, I think.
I wish to god this information had been around 40+ years ago.
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I asked my sisters about a topic similar to "does anyone know when you get past the falling assh*les phase." That happens, or begins to happen when a woman starts that change in life that begins in her mid-life, according to them. The constant state of hyper-emotionalism begins to fade away, and the logic and reason they've always been capable of, but seldom apply, begin to assert themselves.
The problem is that most women at that stage are so burned out, bitter, and angry at the treatment they've set themselves up for at the hands of Chad Thunderstroke and his merry band of "hit-and-quit-it" brothers that no man wants to be with them. No man who's not an irredeemable simp, that is. And of course none of them is the common denominator in any of it.
One of the smarter women I know who's been through all that with the Chads and the Tyrones and the Ray-Rays, et al; one of the most business-minded, logical, reasonable, conservative women in my life is triggered and turns into a raging feminazi when any discussion revolves around how women do this to themselves. It's kind of scary, actually, and it's almost a Jekyll-Hyde transformation.
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