No Shame

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When I was younger, as in elementary through my high school days, I didn’t have much if any, shame in being a young man. Sure, there were a handful of women primarily, that were taking up the chant, “men are pigs,” and “all you think about and all you want is sex,” but for the most part, it was a small minority of people doing the shame tactics that are so prevalent in today’s world.

Once I entered college, all of that began to change. It wasn’t something that hit you like a tidal wave, it was slow, creeping, and insidious. Little things that showed up gradually. Think of a frog sitting in a pot of water that is slowly boiling. By the time the frog figures it out, it’s too late. Same for me. By the time I figured it out, it was too late. I was already feeling shame and guilt for having natural desires and for being a man. All I knew was that I felt bad for being a Man, but I didn’t necessarily know why. Maybe I was just “inherently evil.” Maybe I was a piece of shit because I was actually a piece of shit.

The how’s and why’s of this taking place aren’t that important to me anymore, it’s the knowledge that it happened and it’s still happening to both me and other Men that’s more important to me now.

Waking up every day and hating yourself for being alive and being a Man takes a toll on you. Apologizing for your own existence and for breathing the same air that a woman next to you is breathing is a special form of hell for the Man who is living in that world.

I don’t know when or the date that things really changed for me, I wish I did. I wish I did so that I could tell what the catalyst, or the “straw that broke the camel’s back” was for me. I don’t have that answer though, and honestly I don’t believe that it is all that important. All I know is that I got tired and angry with apologizing for my own existence and I got sick and tired of being sick and tired and so I gave it up.

I stopped apologizing, and in the beginning I was throwing “it back at them.” Yes, I’m a Man. Yes, I’m in “your space.” Yes, I’m breathing your air. Yes, I want to bang you. Fucking deal with it. After a while though, even that got old and tiresome. Carrying a chip on your shoulder and having an axe to grind is almost as bad as being the apologetic one. So I gave that up as well.

That’s when things got really interesting for me. When you don’t really give a fuck, anything is possible, and I’m not exaggerating. Part of me wants to shout that from the rooftops and maybe that’s what this is by me writing it down, and part of me doesn’t care if you read or understand this.

Fellow Men can lovingly insult me all they want and it doesn’t get a rise out of me at all anymore. Sure I know that they don’t really mean it when they do insult me, and even if they really did mean it, I don’t care. It’s easier to not give a fuck unless it is in my face and I have to deal with it, and when it is, I’ll deal with it, one way or another. Until then, fuck it, it doesn’t matter. It’s damn near impossible to insult or shame a Man who doesn’t give a fuck and is with no shame.

Some of my fellow Men jokingly say, “You can’t insult Rob, because he has no shame.” It’s true. I really have no shame these days. I do what I want because that’s what I want to do and I don’t care if they come along or not. I don’t care if they “like” it or not. I did the guilt and shame thing for so many years and got nothing from it other than misery and more guilt and shame, I figured I might as well do what I want, enjoy myself while I’m doing it, and see what happens.

This is why I laugh now when I see Men and women get themselves riled up over politics, feminism, and outrage porn. None of that shit matters in the end. None of it is really about you, especially if you are a Man, you aren’t the target audience. You can’t change it on a global scale, or even on a local scale. The only place you can change it is for yourself and maybe in your own home and that’s it.

When I decided to “lower my standards,” another world opened up to me. I’ve been able to meet all sorts of people that I wouldn’t have met before. Sure, many of these people I wouldn’t keep in my life for the long haul, but I don’t have a problem having them around for the short run. It’s made my life and my world much more colorful and interesting for me. By “lowering my standards,” I’ve had experiences that I would have never had, and none of those experiences have been “bad.” I’ve not regretted any of these experiences to date, not a single one. If anything, they’ve made me ask myself, “what else is possible here? What else can I do?”

I guess I’m trying to push the envelope of what I can do and who will show up in my life for me. Every one of those experiences and every one of those people have been positive and have taught me something about myself and about life in general so far. One of the things I’ve learned is that life is messy and chaotic at times. It goes in directions that you can’t always anticipate or control, but you can control how you deal with it and how you want to feel about it.

You can get angry about the way things are, because they aren’t going the way that you want them to go, the way that they should be. Or you can accept it and adapt to it and come out “better” for it. Ultimately it’s up to you.

The biggest challenge that I’m having these days is not that I’m angry or feeling shame, because I’m not experiencing any of those things anymore. The biggest problem for me now is having the “ambition” to write about it. I’m just happy to be doing what I do and having the experiences that I’m having with the people that I’m meeting. I’m almost to the point that I would rather sit down with you and smoke a cigar, look at women for what they are, enjoy seeing them for what they are, and telling a few off-color jokes. Also I would rather sit down, drink a beer with you, and look at a fire burning or the ocean churning, depending on what location you and I are at.

Don’t worry though, I’ll still keep writing and doing my videos. I’ll still keep running my mouth in multiple forms and on multiple platforms because I enjoy doing that, it’s definitely one of my pleasures, and not a guilty one.

And that’s because I have no shame.

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Fear and Shame

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I’ve been reading several books and blogs while on my journey of the Red Pill, and I’ll probably make a post about those books that I’ve found really beneficial to me. But that’s for another time.

Right now, one of the books I’ve been reading “No More Mr. Nice Guy!” by Robert Glover really gave me a punch to the stomach and to the balls. Right from the beginning this book has made me very uncomfortable, so uncomfortable that I’ve had to put the book down for periods of time only to pick it up again at a later date and keep going. Many of the lessons and the ideas that he talks about are like opening old wounds, some that I thought had healed and scarred over, some that I was totally unaware of and didn’t know existed.

Fear and shame over sexuality was and is one of them for me. All my life, I’ve felt that sex was dirty and on some level, bad. This isn’t new for a lot of men, or women for that matter. I wasn’t raised in a strict, religious household. I wasn’t sexually assaulted or abused. My parent’s never told me that sex was bad or wrong. Other than giving me a very watered down version of the “birds and the bees,” my parent’s never talked about sex with me at all. And herein lies the issue. My mother’s idea of sex is that it’s something you do with someone you love and something you do when you’re married. So my wanting to have sex was somehow wrong and bad, at least that’s how I saw it growing up. I wasn’t in love with girls and women that I saw, I was in lust. I wanted to fuck them, I didn’t want to marry them and make a bunch of babies.

I also picked up the idea somewhere along the way, that women didn’t like sex. Maybe it was my parent’s lack of talking about it, maybe it was after I had my first sexual relationship, the girl I was seeing/fucking said that maybe we shouldn’t have had sex as early as we did, and that maybe we should cut down and/or stop having sex altogether. Years later, I realized what was going on here, but at the time, it seemed to me that she didn’t like sex, regretted the sex that we had, and didn’t want to have sex anymore, especially with me. Maybe it was some of the girls I hung around with at that time that had their own hangups about sex and men as well. I’m sure it’s all of the above and probably some more that I haven’t even tapped into. God, it sucks being in my head sometimes.

Sex for me was enjoyable and I wanted it all the time. I still do. The fear and shame kick in though. I sometimes wonder on some level if the women I sleep with, or have slept with enjoy/enjoyed the sex. I still feel like I’m “pestering” them if I want sex, and in all honesty, I hate asking for it. I don’t beg or do the “please please please can we have sex please?” But I will on occasion straight up ask, “I’m feeling real turned on by you, would you like to have sex?” Sometimes I get a yes and we do, sometimes it’s no, and there is some sort of reason behind it. I hate rejection. I hate being told no. I take it personal. Like it’s me that’s the problem, when I know it’s not me. She’s not in the mood, she had a long day, she’s sick, on her period, busy, pissed off, etc. It sounds bad reading this, I know. It sounds like rationalizations too, I’m sure. Maybe some of them are. Some of them aren’t though. There are times I’ve turned down sex when approached because of a headache or I’m pissed or tired or whatever, and it wasn’t about them. Sometimes I’m being lazy. I like it when a woman initiates sex with me. It turns me on. I don’t have to risk rejection. I can do the rejecting if that’s what I’m wanting to do.

Sex has always been something that is taboo to me I guess. I like fucking in public. I like bondage, especially tying her up. I like sex where we run the risk of getting caught. I’ve even had sex with married women. Not my most shining moment, but there it is. I even had sex in a brothel with a prostitute when I turned 21. Something that I just had to try and experience. Not a bad experience, but not something I would do again.

From what Glover said in “No More Mr. Nice Guy!” in order to get through and past the fear and shame, I need to come clean about it. I need to talk to others about it. “Safe people” as he put it. People who won’t judge me about the shit I feel, the shit I’ve done. I don’t really have that other than here on ye olde internet, what with the semi-anonymity of it all. I could still attract judgment and trolls, but hey, I’m a big boy now, I think I can manage the judgment and the trolling. I’ve been there before with other things on other platforms. What’s a bunch of keyboard warriors to me anyways?

I’ve always felt that since women basically don’t like sex, or that they do it out of a sense of duty, or to get the guy off their back, that it’s wrong for me to want it, that I’m bad for wanting it. So in order to avoid the shame of it and the rejection of it, I’ve tried, pretty successfully, to inhibit myself as a sexual being and to not be sexual. Flirting has been interesting to say the least. How fucking boring is it to not want to bring up sex, even in innuendo? Takes the fun out of it for sure. Makes it fucking boring and sterile. How many encounters have I missed? How much fun have I lost because of this stupid shit? I can’t even imagine. I don’t want to imagine.

And then there is me wanting to be the “Good Lover.” That’s when I focus solely on their satisfaction to the detriment of mine. All you Men out there. If you are reading this, please for the love of god, listen very carefully to what I’m about to say next. Please.

Focusing solely on her satisfaction to the detriment of yours will lead to some fucked up shit. Like not being able to come. I’ve encountered this ALOT. I want to come, and I can pound away for what feels like forever, and it won’t happen. I’m not advocating that you totally ignore her wants and her satisfaction, but for fuck’s sake, you need to think and focus on yours too. Your needs and wants are just as valid as hers. Oh, and not only can you have the effect of not being able to come, focusing on being the “Good Lover” will set up a recipe of a boring ass sex life too.

I’m quoting Glover here:

“Sex that focuses on trying to please the other guarantees a routine, do-what-worked-last-time kind of experience.”

It’s like he was in my bedroom taking notes.

Approval. Seeking approval is part of it too. The more I’ve been dependent on seeking a woman’s approval, the more I would hide my sexual behavior. Can’t have her disapproving of me, god forbid I offend her because I want to fuck her.

This fear and shame has another interesting effect too. Since I’ve pretty much believed that woman don’t like and don’t want sex, why the hell would they be attracted to me? What could I possibly offer them? That one was and is, a nut-buster. I’ve felt that way for years. It was never really on the conscious level, but always running in the background, like a subroutine.

Quoting Glover again:

“…trying to be nice robs a man of his life energy. The more a Nice Guy seeks approval and tries to “do it right,” the tighter he clamps a lid down on any kind of energy that might actually draw a person to him.”

Ouch. Ding ding! Been there, done that. Still do it.

Taking the Red Pill has been an interesting and challenging journey to say the least. I have no regrets, I’m glad I’ve done it. I know I can’t go back to the blue pill lie, nor do I want to. But goddamn, this one, this part of the journey has been a real motherfucker. I am definitely not a victim here. I will not, and cannot play that card. Fuck that. It’s my shit and I get to deal with it and overcome it. But fuck….

Why am I even writing all of this? This is my “coming out of the closet,” I guess. It’s me putting my shame and fear out on the table for the whole world to read if they so choose to. I can’t get past it unless I shed the light of day on it. I’ve put this off long enough. For far too long actually. And there’s more, but I don’t have the time or the stomach to put it out there right now, so that’ll be another time. Another post. Yay me.

Glover has some wonderful tools and ideas in his book, “No More Mr. Nice Guy!” and if you haven’t read it, I would highly recommend it. I’ve read a lot of literature out there when it comes to being a Man and relating to women and whatnot, and this is definitely a good one.

Pick up a copy today. You won’t regret it.

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