Influences: NMMNG, WISNIFG, Monk Moding the Side Bar. 6’3, 205lbs, 14%BF, 245 bench press for reps, 315 deadlift for reps, 145 shoulder press for reps, Lagging on squats at 275 for reps (right knee injury). 34 years old. Wife is 36yrs old, HB9+ at prime, HB7-8 post wall. She’s still up there.
2010: She was a hot bartender and close LJBF. She was on her cock carousel, and I was spinning plates like a fucking elephant in the circus. She was well aware of my plate spinning and did not want anything to do with me emotionally or sexually. It didn’t matter, I got her to hop on and an LTR sprung after 2 years of LJBF.
2012: Beginning of our LTR. I was deeply committed. I went Oneitis on her. I dropped all my plates. It was laughably difficult because I never thought about how difficult clearing my table would be. It frustrated her. She had trust issues like The Godfather. She wanted those plates gone and out of my life. She deleted all the girls off my phone and I didn’t care. They were just plates. Eventually, my table was clear and all the plates were out of sight. No more random unsolicited “hey...” texts in the middle of the night. Looking back... one would think those would be the worse times in our relationship but they were not. They were the best. My LTR was the sluttiest, dirtiest, personal porno star of mine. We played around with BDSM quite a lot. She loved being submissive. Ball gags, anal hooks, nipple clamps, ropes, candle wax, throat fucking... you name it! She was down. She was the dream fuck. It was like she was competing for gold every time we fucked. Knowing what I know now; it was clearly because those plates created dread. She was on her toes. She made sure she was the best. DREAD IS REAL, FOLKS! (I wish I knew this then.)
2015: Happy Wife, Happy Life! (You MRP vets must be gagging. Knock it off.) I religiously subscribed to that ideology. Instead of plates, I was spinning covert contracts like an elephant in the circus. FRAME? What frame? I continuously lived on the “Happy Life, Happy Wife” standard. Sure enough, years have passed and I victimized myself with these contracts. I victim puked all the things I thought I was entitled to as a married man. Shit, my DEER game? That shit was on fire. I was the best Defender, Explainer, Excuser & Rationalizer that ever existed. I went from AMOG to a blue pill faggot. One positive trait I kept was never quitting the gym. I’ve always lifted; however, every time I went, she would send me out the door with a sweet kiss and “see you in an hour”. She set a time limit. (Good lord! Writing this is making me angry at myself!) Sex began to trickle down to duty sex. She initiated, but I still considered it duty sex. Blow jobs are fucking rare though.
2019: 3 years of marriage developed into a steady decline in intimacy. I lived in her frame. I whined to her about dumb shit. I complained about beta shit and demanded (stomp,stomp) she respect me as her husband and the father of her child. That was our cycle. We’ve hit a Plateau pretty close to the bottom and we went to terms with it. This is marriage. This is where we are now. This it our baseline because I’m a pussy. It’s all because of me. I have accepted my life. What kept me slightly “together” was being able to go to the gym more often than I could because my gym has a day care now. No more childcare issues. I got my physical frame back. I’m looking good. I went beast mode and added intermittent fasting. Manly outside but a real fag inside. I owned it and I was ok with my piece of shit boat in calm waters.
Stumbling Upon MRP: I was not looking for answers. Remember, I was content. Sex was happening, just not the sex a wanted. I figured it’s just marriage. This must be how it is. I wasn’t looking for internet advice. I literally just stumbled upon MRP but that’s not important. What’s important is the rabbit hole of self realization known as the prerequisites and sidebar that I found myself navigating. I began to realize that I turned into a faggot bitch. Like holy shit! What happened to me?! I use to tell the bro’s “treat em like dirt, they’ll stick to you like mud”. Now look at me. I’m a little pussy. Instead of going in a rage, I kept my composure and just MRP’d. I educated myself and was able to backtrack and review where and how things went wrong.
Present day: I was going to delay the application of MRP. I wanted to fully understand and really think it out. I’ve read NMMNG & WISNIFG. I wanted to re-read the side bar. I wanted an MRP diploma before I went to work. Unfortunately, my wife and I had an incident which required MRP tools. She wants to surrogate for her friend. I did some version of DEER to convince her that it would be a bad idea. The issue tucked away for a little bit but resurfaced on (let’s say) D-Day 1. This time I applied a hard “no” and I STFU. She proceeded to negotiate blowjobs and anal sex if I said yes. It pissed me off because I’m smarter now and I know better. I don’t negotiate with terrorists. I held my ground. I hit her with another “No” and I STFU. It became a 15 minute one-way conversation of her DEERing while she (drunk) cried. It was one way because I STFU. It was so fucking liberating to not fight or argue.
D-Day #2: Same conversation. Same “No” & STFU. (I was amusing myself.) She was a bit uneasy. I could tell because of the head tilt she did, waiting for me to DEER. (Meanwhile I went back to the sidebar making sure I’m doing things right.) I’m holding my ground and beginning to understand frame with her help. She wanted me to live with a pregnant chick and a baby that’s not even mine. Fuck that! Hard no.
D-Day #5: I am the captain of my ship. I am feeling good. I wanted to live in my ship (household) the way I wanted. I decided, since my daughter does not need baby gates around the house, I removed one of three gates while my wife was at work since the gates are just a nuisance. They served no purpose. I left for work before she arrived home. A few hours later, I received a text “You removed the baby gate!” I didn’t respond because it was not a logistical inquiry. She later texted about logistical info and I responded. All was well throughout the day.
D-Day #6: IDGAF. I cleaned the whole house and arranged some furniture for more room and functionality. It looked great and I was pleased with myself. I was doing things for me. All the while, I’m not hurting anyone. I didn’t go full retard with the furniture adjustment. Just tweaked it a little bit. She came home with wandering eyes. She’s catching up. I was doing things. I acted like nothing changed. I didn’t seek her approval. Business as usual for me. UNTIL... she hit me with “I want the baby gate back!” I hit her with a “no” & I STFU. She responded with “why are you doing these things? You’re doing things and not consulting with me.” I STFU. She told me she would put it back herself if I didn’t. I STFU. Next thing I see is her placing the gate back. I let her. Once she was done I simply removed the gate again. No rage. Cool as a whistle. She wanted to argue. I didn’t. She was angry by herself. She had nobody to fight with. Instead, I put on the best casual clothes I had and hopped in a car to Walmart and got some deodorant. This triggered a 4-day silent treatment from her. She even took my daughter and stayed at her parents over the weekend. She wanted to hurt me, I didn’t let her. I hit the gym. I cleaned the house, read books and worked on myself. She saw it. She saw I used the time she gave me to polish myself.
D-Day #10: She was prancing around the house all quiet and butt hurt while I’m happy as A gay guy doing squats in a cucumber field. Suddenly, she seized the silent protest and began to converse with me. Like nothing happened.
Here is my question... I’d like to think I successfully hopped out of her frame (I plan on staying out) and this was the main event before I start building my own frame for her to enter. Am I interpreting these events correctly? Or did I just go fucking Rambo? I’d like to know or be warned of any shit storms that might come during this phase. I don’t want to get blind sided.