At the request of /u/BluepillProfessor, I've moved this saga over here from /r/askMRP.

Without a doubt, this is victim puke; my situation and the script I followed to get to MRP is in no way unique but I’m using this to identify a bunch of covert contracts and some red pill lessons in hindsight. Writing things out helps me self-audit and if it was important enough for me to write it for myself, I might as well get some peer review. What did I miss? Where are the holes? I’m picking through my puke to look for clues as to WTF I ate that made me sick in the first place. Get ready to cringe. As this is my second ever posting on Reddit, mistakes will be made with formatting. I’ll take my knocks and learn by doing.

Contents

• Calibration and Correlation
• Background
• Oneitis and College
• The Southwest
• The Rockies
• The West Coast
• The PNW
• The Tipping Point and Finding MRP
• Starting Stats at the Beginning of My MAP

Calibration and Correlation

Throughout this post, I’ll frequently describe my wife’s actions. Applying concepts from NMMNG and WISNIFG means decoupling my judgement of myself from her judgement of me, but as is frequently stated around here, she is a reflection of me and filling the container I provide. I have consciously not adjusted my MAP in response to her actions, but observing her response to my changes and using that data as feedback has been effective when refining my tactical actions. I’m not doing anything specifically so she will fuck me, but when she does fuck, I pay attention to what I did that worked. I am mindful of her macro response because eventually it will be her response (or lack of) to my action that determines if I continue my married relationship with her.

Background

As much as I’d like to be a former drunk captain, I’m a career beta when it comes to women. I’ve always been “alpha as fuck” among my male friends (leader of activities, captain of sports teams, organizer of trips, etc.). But, with women (and girls) since early elementary school, I was the textbook Nice Guy. I had a few very hot girlfriends in Highschool, but I was too “respectful” of them (I was too much of a pussy) to do anything past third base, so nothing ever lasted long. Interestingly, I was never able to date a girl at my own school, only girls from other schools. [RED PILL LESSON] It’s clear now that I was initially attractive and mysterious, but once they spent some time with me and experienced my supplicating ways, it turned out that I was also unattractive and had zero game- just a beta who was pleasant to look at (facepalm). I literally ripped off the crux moves from many teen-romance, nice-guy-gets-the-hot-girl movies and tried to pull that shit with girls I liked. How’s that for some shit to own? Of course I got rejected and would “make some (other) girl really happy one day.” [RED PILL LESSON] looking back, it was a huge cover contract and I was enraged at the time; it’s too funny to hold any anger over.

Oneitis and College

The week after graduation, I made out with the hottest girl in my group of friends, who I’d had a crush on since freshman year, a month later we had sex (first for both of us). Then we fucked every day for the next few months. It was awesome. [RED PILL LESSON] I realized that during that time, I was definitely the AMOG and drove the party train among my social group all summer. I was a state-champion swimmer and working as a lifeguard so I was tall, jacked, and tan, I likely had a lot of preselection and dread going because I worked with a bunch of young hotties. But because of my definite oneitis, I didn’t realize any of that. I also remember never explicitly defining what would happen at the end of the summer when we went to different colleges. I never defined my commitment because I was scared of facing the reality of “losing” her, but she probably saw it unconsciously that I wasn’t committing and she could earn it with sex.

We went to separate colleges, me away and her in town, but continued to be exclusive and during visits home we would fuck like crazy, all ways, all places, all times. She would borrow friends’ clothes and dress slutty for our dates. [RED PILL LESSON] She didn’t know WTF I was up to when I was out of town and probably hamstered all sorts of things. In fact, during one of my blue-pill victim pukes while trying to negotiate some sex later in life, she said she was scared that I wouldn’t like her if we didn’t have a bunch of sex in those days.

After a year, she transferred to my college and even into my same major. Now that we were around each other ALL THE DAMN TIME, sex dropped off to once per week with all the usual excuses that old married women use. Sex became starfish nearly all the time and she didn’t like to do 80% of the moves I like any more. I LOVED eating pussy (I still do) and that suddenly felt weird to her. She suggested we move in under the promise that we could do “stuff” without the roommates hearing so of course I was in, but in reality nothing changed. I bought lingerie for her that never got worn, I planned dates that got shit on, all the usual stuff. [RED PILL LESSON] I now know that it’s because she saw that I was whipped and she had nothing to dread. I kept telling myself that having THIS girl locked down was better than dealing with the dating scene. At the time, it probably was better because I had no game and completely backwards training.

The Southwest

We graduated and got jobs at the same company then bought a house together. Seeing it as the easy path, I gladly relinquished control of our finances to her. We combined accounts and I had to start asking permission to spend my money on my hobbies. We made plenty though so it was rare that my request for funds allocation was denied. [RED PILL LESSON] Even though the actual resources weren’t scarce, the power she gained when I felt I had to ask permission to spend my own money was crippling, but I didn’t realize it at the time.

Under the excuse of “professionalism”, she started dressing more androgynous, bordering on masculine, and stopped wearing makeup. She made sex promises that were instantly forgotten. I did the usual, ask-beg-wish for change, smother her in attention, did a shitload of chores, and pouted. I still had my hobbies and social group though, and they were adventurous. [RED PILL LESSON] I didn’t workout but my activities were physical, usually competitive, and kept me from getting fat, so that’s likely what kept any hint of attraction.

At this point, I’m a couple years in and was crushing my young career and she was doing well but indifferent [RED PILL LESSON] I don’t think she actually likes our degree field but she followed me through it because aside from interacting with her, I’m a natural leader. I got some IOI from some cute little interns, but oneitis aside, I knew better than to mess with women at work.

I proposed (of course thinking sex would increase…), we got married. On our honeymoon, we had sex once per day and then not again for a couple weeks after. This set me off more than I could self-soothe with pouting and I doubled down with the angry unattractive behavior. We had talks, lots of talks. [RED PILL LESSON] Actions, not words.

The Rockies

A few years into my career, I decided my current company was holding me back and to get a better job at another company in another state. She was on board and did the same. [RED PILL LESSON] I remember the sex picking up drastically during my job hunt, probably because I suddenly had a mission for myself and wasn’t focusing on her. I got my new job and moved first after preparing our house for sale, she stayed in town until our house sold. I secured a house to rent and set up all the utilities. I immediately made a new social group in my new state and started doing all kinds of fun shit, basically living like a bachelor except without the dating. During these couple months, our visits included lots of sex and me taking her on adventures with all my new friends. [RED PILL LESSON] Apparently handling your own shit like a Captain is attractive.

When the old house sold and she joined me, she “earned her keep” by cooking, cleaning, and fucking. I liked it and joked about living in the 1950’s but as soon as she got a job, we were “equals” again so all that stopped. Having no kids yet, we were still very social and she made friends with the wives of all my friends. I was still the organizer and social driving force behind nearly all of our activities. I started a band with some friends and the whole crew would come to our gigs and have a blast. But [RED PILL LESSON] my supplicating, pussy-whipped behavior toward my wife neutralized any of my AMOG tingles.

A year or so later, my company hired an intern that looked just like my wife looked at her hottest in college. Girl Intern (GI) and I had some instant mutual attraction, some cocky/funny natural game emerged from somewhere, and we started flirting heavily. Sex with the wife had dropped off to 3x per month, and despite knowing better, I consciously decided I was going to cheat on my wife with GI. So I engaged my plugged-in training, dropped my natural flirty game and started spraying GI with feeeeelings and whining about how pathetic my current sex life was. I was immediately friendzoned and she used the shit out of my orbiting resources. No sex was ever had. [RED PILL LESSON self evident].

There I was, 30 years old, the lead engineer of an elite team known among our portion of the industry for kicking all the ass, all the time, and I owned that shit. I’m making a lot of money, intellectually stimulated, and developing at a rapid rate. I hadn’t heard the phrase “Iron sharpens Iron” until MRP, but that’s exactly what was happening at work. But I was still “following the rules” and frustrated as shit with my married sex life. My team would deploy to work on-site for projects at various places around the country, and we would go out and live it up at the local bars. I remember getting plenty of IOI from the local ladies with my natural DHV among my peers, and a couple times I engaged, coming awfully close to the line, but my commitment to honor my wedding vows kept my balls blue. I’d come home, get a trickle of starfish sex, and convince myself that this was my lot in life. Around this time, I got an iPhone, discovered online porn, and started fapping nearly any time I was alone. Feeling desperate, I suggested we start trying for a kid, knowing that one must have sex in order to become pregnant. Of course she agreed. [REDPILL LESSON] When women hit 30, they also want kids, especially if they’re in a situation with guaranteed resources. She dropped the pills, we fucked a few times, she wore lingerie once, and then boom- the Dr. said we were in love. Sex tapered off again due to prego exhaustion and actual vomiting and I was sympathetic.

The West Coast

About this time, a former VP of my current company started poaching my team. Some of my guys and I got (very lucrative) offers to air-drop into a struggling startup company with some obvious potential. It was another out-of-state move and exciting. I took the offer and moved within 2 weeks. Again, my wife stayed to finish up her current work commitments and assist with the sale of the house. I lived like a frat boy in a fancy, company-subsidized house with a bunch of my friends / coworkers. We repeated the cycle of work-drink-sleep for a couple months straight and it was glorious. I took a trip to visit the wife a few times (and had a bunch of sex because [RED PILL LESSON] she missed me), then back to pack up all our shit and drive it out when the house sold. During this time, again with no input from her, I secured a house for us to rent, set up utilities and all that. When she arrived, I had a whole crew of new friends (whom she’d never met) to get our shit out of the truck and into our new place. [RED PILL LESSON] Having bros who’ll happily help you move is a pretty good DHV.

We sold our old house, which was our only debt, and my job paid well. We have always both embraced living in a non-extravagant way so even with one income, we built our savings. Since she would soon be having our kid, and the plan we’d come up with was for her to not take a job, she didn’t. She spent the days lunching with the wives of my friends (AKA the “work widows”) and nesting in our new place. I was still on the intense work pace, but we had sex nearly every night for a couple months. During one of her prego checkups, the Doc advised us not to put anything in her cooter for a few weeks and gave an actual reason. Without me asking, my wife started giving hand and blow jobs nearly every night. Aside from our early dating months, I had received (and asked for) zero BJs. Shortly after she was cleared for action again and PIV sex returned. [RED PILL LESSON] Nesting is beta, but handling your own shit like a Captain is still attractive, especially when you have a mission.

A note on some of my habits during this period: In order to keep up the pace (or at least that’s how I rationalized it) at this job and the last, I ingested 5-7 cans of caffeinated soda per day and was constantly snacking on gummy candy. I dressed down in an attempt to identify with and close the social gap between myself and the mechanics who were executing my designs. I did no exercise and dropped nearly all my active hobbies. My coworkers and I would eat out and drink a lot of craft beer nearly every day after work. I had never heard the term “skinny-fat”, but that’s what I was.

Kid 1 is born and I shift into Super Dad mode, deacon in the Cult of Child and my wife steps right into the Martyrdom of Motherhood. I couldn’t boost her up into the Captain’s seat fast enough. You know, because that’s what you do when you’re plugged in. I dropped all my hobbies and stopped hanging out with my friends after work. Things get a little fuzzy in my memory here, probably because of all the booze, lack of sleep, and general chaos a newborn brings to first-time parents. “Frame” wasn’t a concept for me yet and I had no vision other than “get through work, get through dinner, get through bedtime, get rejected for sex, do it again tomorrow”. I frequently lost composure and deeply regret some of the things I muttered to my infant son. [RED PILL LESSON] With no social outlet, hobbies, or exercise to consume my energy (which I thought I didn’t have), I became very angry. You need outlets and you need a mission. Work became my outlet and I would go there to “hide” instead of spending my time at home with the wife and kid. Since the wife was getting her dopamine and oxytocin from the kid and my “sacrifices” to provide don’t matter in Marriage 2.0, suddenly I was suddenly a shitty husband and a shitty dad. [RED PILL LESSON] She is a reflection of me and she was fucking right; I was a whiny-angry-man-child who happened to be very good at one facet of life, which she never saw first-hand. Obligation sex was had every couple weeks, usually preceded by an afternoon of me clinging and hinting and an hour of massage once she gave in. [RED PILL LESSON] Desire isn’t negotiated and doubling down on beta behavior makes things worse.

My wife now had motivation to go out and make a bunch of mommy friends instead of hanging out with the “work widows”, so her social life skyrocketed. I tagged along and had shallow, distracted, fragments of conversation with the other dads, while quick-stepping to fetch whatever the wives ordered and pack-muleing around all the shit that outings with kids require. We were all the dopey caricatures of dads on TV, just chuckling it off when the wives rolled their eyes and plucked the fussing baby from us when we demonstrated our incompetence with whatever natural parenting magic mommies use. Mommies always think they know what’s best for everyone. In hindsight, I’m certain all those dudes were exactly as frustrated as I was, but we put on a great show. [RED PILL LESSON] “Happy wife = happy life” is just not the way things work.

I was at least self-aware enough to realize how dependent I had become on the sugar and caffeine from all the soda I drank, so one day I stopped it cold-turkey. That was one of the toughest self-discipline exercises I may have ever done. In the past 5 years, I’ve had less than 10 sodas. Luckily there was beer, so I ramped up my beer drinking from a pint or two per night to 4-6 each night during the week and a constant stream after noon on the weekends. I paid no attention to my weight or physique so I really can’t quantify the effect, but passing out sure made skipping sex easier. [RED PILL LESSON] More beer = less sex. At the wife’s suggestion, we started camping again, which was something we hadn’t done in a few years due to busy work schedules, pregnancy, and other excuses. I wanted to enjoy the experience, but of my own accord, I spent the entire time stressing about creating perfect conditions for the wife and kid. I tried to predict and mitigate any risk that might cause us to deviate from the ideal experience. The outings were exhausting for me and boring for everyone else. [RED PILL LESSONS] These were huge covert contracts and perfect is boring.

This shitty, stressful, sexless, miserable, day-to-day existence wasn’t getting better, but it also wasn’t getting worse. Then one day my company was acquired by a major competitor and the startup-lotto paid off. It wasn’t the jackpot we’d all been promised when we were issued our stock options, but it was a nice windfall and we all still had jobs in the new organization. I wasn’t particularly stoked about becoming a worker bee for the new company though, so in one of the very low moments of my betadom, I asked my wife for permission to find a new job. There were no alternatives in our small town, so I started looking in one of the larger cities we had found attractive earlier in life. In a couple weeks, I had some interviews, got an offer, and put in my notice to resign. Together we took a trip to find a house to rent, bickered the whole time, and finally compromised on one she liked but I was lukewarm about. I handled all the utilities setup, but proudly presented my basic adult achievements to her for approval. In the past, we’d always self-moved with rented trucks. She made piles, I packed boxes, I loaded and unloaded the truck, and she unpacked and nested. She arranged the move this time and it was a shit show. I basically did all the labor while she occupied our son, but we ran out of boxes and the POD she hired didn’t fit everything so she had to order a second at the last minute. [RED PILL IN-JOKE] TRP constantly jokes about women being terrible judges of the physical size of things. It’s true, even STEM women.

The PNW

I started my latest job, which I am completely satisfied with. But, being a family man now, I passed on the invitations for after-hours comraderie with the other young guys. This was a huge mistake and fixing it is a major part of my MAP. Being in a new town, new job, and engaging none of my hobbies meant my only social contact was my kid and wife. And the cashier at the beer store; I saw her frequently. I instinctually knew having no local friends was a problem, so I grabbed a tiny bit of my balls and told my wife I was going to find a band to join, then asked “would that be OK?” I eventually did, and the twice-per-week bro-time was a godsend. It was also a new mission and I spent many hours after the wife and kid went to bed practicing and learning songs. I still felt I needed to ask permission to use my time and spend my money. I constantly thanked her for “letting” me be in a band and have a hobby. The wife again found a bunch of mommies to become friends with and I tagged along, joking with the other dads about how we don’t have any time to any of the shit we like. They were all clearly envious that I was allowed to be in a band. [RED PILL LESSON] You need a goddamn hobby!

Being in a new town, making new friends, all that other new stuff was stimulating and keeping the wife from being bored, so sex picked up a little bit to once per week. I was still begging for it and doing lots of choreplay and she was using all the typical excuses.

We took a couple camping trips. We now live in the PNW so it rained. Camping in the rain with kids and dogs is excruciating when you’re trying to prevent any discomfort for the other people in your group. I proposed buying an expensive camping van and eventually talked the wife into permitting the use of funds (that I earned). Having and using this vehicle definitely made camping much more comfortable for everyone, but it turns out this particular model had a history of questionable reliability so the stress I saved by providing a warm, dry place to sleep I allocated to planning for and trying to prevent the inevitable breakdown. [RED PILL LESSON] Risk aversion is weaksauce pussy bullshit. I should have taken comfort in the discomfort of not knowing what would happen because I’m confident to use my skills in the moment. When that breakdown eventually happened (after unplugging, thankfully), all my preparations were used, I executed my extraction plan like a Captain, and that “adventure” became a feature of the trip for the wife and kids.

Dealing with a vehicle that needed maintenance and upgrades became my new mission, as well as planning trips for the family. Unconsciously I rarely consulted my wife on these plans, I just told her about them when I’d worked them out. I would inform her of the strategic plan, tell her how many meals to buy, then leave her to the tactical job of getting herself and our son packed and ready. I would prepare the vehicle, load everyone up, and we would go. Action-wise, this was pretty strong captaining, but I still stressed a lot about the potential for catastrophe and shared my fears with my wife, which led her to be stressed too. [RED PILL LESSON] Be the oak, don’t show weakness.

I’ve always had a project vehicle in addition to my daily driver, but the project I already had was dormant since having my son. Now I had two project vehicles (and twice as much cost to fuel, license, and insure). I taught myself how to do all the mechanical maintenance on a modern diesel and executed some large jobs that would have cost thousands of dollars had I paid someone else. I shared my triumphs with my wife and got a little mad when she didn’t share my enthusiasm [COVERT CONTRACT], but I actually enjoyed the self-validation of proving my new skills to myself and I felt manly working in the garage again. [RED PILL LESSON] Have a hobby!

Shortly after I started planning and taking the family on trips, sex picked up to once every 3 days, but it was starfish, mechanical, and I’m certain she was consciously metering it out. Maybe there was a spark of attraction from my masculine activities that made her think we should be having sex, but I still looked like a skinny-fat slob, was almost always at least buzzed while I was at home, and showered her with complements and affection so she had to force herself to do it. She’d been working out in a stroller class for about a year and a half and looked pretty good in her workout clothes. She still dressed androgynous and sloppy otherwise though (mirroring my effort evidently). I thought thanking and praising her for the sex we were having would encourage her to step things up. We had talks and I started searching the internet for solutions to fix her libido but only found the usual blue-pill advice. I was still sexually frustrated so I jerked off a lot in secret. Our family growth plan was to start working on another kid around this time so she stopped BC again and was pregnant in about a month. This time around, none of the awesome prego horniness happened, partially due to our 2 year old energy vampire but mostly because of my beta and omega behavior.

Son 2 was born and from his original birthday has been a strong-headed child. Neither my wife nor I had much energy for sex, but I still was angry that I wasn’t getting it. I continued to drink a lot of beer but I continued my music, camping, and vehicle hobbies. I self-imposed a lot of pressure on myself to hustle home after rehearsal or gigs because, maybe I could get a scrap of sex. I was angry with my kids for being an obstacle between me and my hobbies. I still didn’t really have any local friends. I was crushing it at work, ascended the learning curve of my new company’s processes quickly and after a year and a half, was again a technical lead and the subject matter expert for many areas. I got bonuses and raises but was bitter when the wife didn’t reward my achievements with her pussy. [RED PILL LESSON] I’ve come to understand this is typical and women don’t want to know how the sausage is made.

Sex was happening, but it was drip-fed at exactly twice per week, excluding shark week, and it was boring. I brought this up a few times and was met with “That’s just what happens in married sex lives. I’m OK with it.” Instinctually, I knew this was just not true but I had no idea what to do about it. I started having shower thoughts wishing for the low testosterone and damped libido that was supposed to happen as I aged. At least then I could focus on something other than the sex I wanted but couldn’t get. I felt shame for my masculine desires. My kids were a pain in my ass and they walked all over my wife and me because we essentially set no boundaries. That’s how we interpreted all the modern parenting crap we’d read. “Let them figure things out and make their own choices.” My wife is incapable of withstanding any tears, complaints of discomfort, or demands for attention. I could do this and tried to take the roll of disciplinarian, but she frequently overruled me with the phrase “You need to pick your battles”, which really meant “You need to pick the battles I would pick, which are none.” [RED PILL LESSON] Kids need boundaries and they need parents with a strong frame.

The Tipping Point and Finding MRP

The tipping point came when we took a plane trip to our home town in the spring of 2015. As I trudged through the airport in my cargo pants and baggy work shirt, carrying the diaper backpack, my kids’ carry-on, and my wife’s breast pump in a bag that was essentially a purse, she strode ahead, holding the baby and pulling the toddler along, glaring at me to keep up. She had the whole trip planned out; who we would see and when. It was mostly going to hanging around her mom’s house. I had given no input other than my money. The first thing I did upon arrival was get to the store to fill my mother-in-law’s fridge with craft beer. Then I spent the time in the corner of the living room drinking beer and finger-fucking my phone. Wife’s parents were divorced when she was very young. Her dad was barely present in her life since then and managed to not pay child support or alimony. MIL never did anything about it and just moved on. I respect my MIL quite a bit; she cooks, sews, and cleans very well and generally handles her own shit like a boss. She worked to pay for her own college degree (after divorce) and saved enough to pay for both of her kids to go to college. She saved enough from her job to pay off her house right about the time she retired. She actually IS a strong independent woman who don’t need a man. Unfortunately, her successful independence made her quite androgynous so my wife really never had a feminine or masculine role model in her life. [RED PILL LESSON] Evaluate your woman’s role models when vetting her for marriage.

But MIL is aging and naturally short, and I'm pretty handy. So every couple hours, my wife would pop her head in and order me to do some handyman task that her mom needed a tall guy to do. [RED PILL LESSON] This was a typical shit test; wife showing off to her mom how tight she held my leash. I’d do it then go back to drinking beer and being bitter about not getting thanked [big ol’ COVERT CONTRACT]. So as I’m googling around, I must have used some search phrases like “wife doesn’t respect me” or “Wife only wants my money” or “why does my wife suck at sex”. Whatever it was I’m CERTAIN I didn’t search for “How do I become a man women (possibly including my wife) want to respect and subsequently fuck?” So I stumble on MRP and read a couple posts and think “These guys all had the same situation as me but now they don’t. They all say it was their own fault? WTF? My sex drive is fine; it’s my wife who has the problem!” Still, I read the FAQ and the wiki. Some of the shit I read instantly brought flashbacks of my life and suddenly those events made sense. I spent the next few days with those thoughts festering in my mind. I wanted the problem to be my wife, but I couldn’t un-see what I had read.

The weekend after I got back from the trip, I played a gig with my band at a well-known local venue. The house was packed and we killed it. For as sloppy as I dressed 99% of the time, I put on the Ritz for the stage; fancy embroidered western shirt, tight jeans, exotic leather boots, and a big white hat (I play country). For as beta and omega as I was around my family, I’ve always been alpha as fuck as a performer (on stage with a band or in technical presentations). I get off stage, high from the performance, and get a couple IOI’s (now that I knew what these were) from some women in the crowd; I suddenly have some thoughts of “Eye Contact, AMOG, DHV”. I straighten up my posture, throw my shoulders back, make eye contact with these chicks, and soak their panties. I offer a band sticker to one of them who happens to be holding two drinks, saying “Here, have your boyfriend hold this for you.” She responds with (giggle) “I don’t have a boyfriend!” I was in such shock that I lost my frame and awkwardly handed my sticker to her friend and scampered away like a 13 year old who accidentally saw a boob at the pool. [RED PILL LESSON] Be attractive; don’t be unattractive.

Monday morning, I sat down at my desk at work, pulled up MRP and read all day. I couldn’t sleep that night because my hamster was burning up the wheel. It was ALL so obvious! It was ALL MY FAULT!

Tuesday, May 5th 2015, I took the pill.

Starting stats:

• 34 years old
• Skinny-fat sloppy dresser
• Career Beta-bux
• Lots of Omega behavior
• Married for 8.5 years
• Dating for 7 years before that
• We’re each other’s only sex partner (as far as I care to believe)
• 2 young children

Read about the first year of my MAP here.

edit to add link to MAP report