TW: Domestic violence, rape

A few weeks ago, I messaged the mods here at Red Pill Women to ask if they would allow a negative testimonial, assuming it was posted in good faith. I envisioned full-on, academic-style discourse with scholarly references and an artful use of rhetoric to communicate my point because, honestly, I was intimidated. I joined RPW a few years ago as a 19-year-old (on a now defunct account), and I'm well-aquatinted with this community's sharp intellect and distaste for feminist naysayers. I had to be prepared. For nearly a month, I typed out draft after draft, only to lay on my backspace key.

I wanted you all to think I was smart. I wanted to effect an educated young woman who, after a good dose of therapy and self-reflection, has returned to her old Internet stomping grounds with a fresh, collected perspective.

But now I realize that wouldn't be totally honest. I'm still healing. I'm still processing. It's been three years since I escaped my "alpha" boyfriend, and I still have nightmares.

Above all, mincing words would be unfair to the screaming, trembling girl that I was.

So, here's the truth, as plainly as I can put it: when I found RPW, I was a lonely collegiate. As the child of an abusive alcoholic, I grew up terrified that being too candid with a friend might result in Child Protective Services placing me in foster care. I couldn't tell anyone what was going on at home, which resulted in pervasive feelings of alienation as a young adult. Because I was constantly either hiding from my drunk mother or lying to save her ass, I had no idea what it felt like to be my authentic self. I wandered around my college campus, friendless, like a ghost.

But on the RPW sub, I didn't feel like a loser. I was a conventionally attractive, white, thin young woman. And being a virgin, too, I was delighted to find that somebody, anybody, thought I was valuable. It didn't bother me that the notion of a "sexual market place" inherently commoditizes women: I was too excited to be -better- than the fat, blue-haired feminnazis at school who didn't want to hang out with me. Finally, I was a prize, and all I needed was my Alpha Prince Charming.

And boy, did I find him. We'll call him 'Daniel...' because that's his name and I don't care about his privacy. He was a wealthy entrepreneur, a veteran of Red Pill ideology, and 16 years my senior. But the age gap was fine, I rationalized, because the sexual market value of a rich older guy was roughly equivalent to that of a pretty virgin. Weren't Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester 20-something years apart, anyway? That had been the way of things before Third Wave feminism destroyed our culture, I figured.

At first, Daniel treated me like a princess, showering me with gifts and all the praise my mother never gave me. Over the course of the next two years (ages 19-21) he gradually started beating me, raping me, cheating on me, and verbally degrading me while weaponizing my identity as a submissive, traditional woman. All of these punishments and consequences, he informed me, were a result of my failure to fill my feminine role. As my mental health deteriorated, I gained weight, began to self harm, and cry during sex (he'd hit me if I refused. Again, this is how life was throughout antiquity, he said, when things were perfect and feminism had yet to ruin women), and Daniel became more insistent that I would be unlovable to other "high-quality" men. He would be gracious enough to keep me around, though, if my behavior improved.

And, ladies, I desperately wanted him to keep me. I had no friends and essentially no family. My entire identity hinged on being accepted by an Alpha. I had absolutely zero faith in myself as an autonomous person, and being a wealthy man's stay-at-home wife was my way of side-stepping my total incompetence. All that could redeem the worthlessness instilled in me by my mother, you see, was the approval of yet another abuser.

He dumped me. He'd made a habit of that- dumping me, letting me wallow for a few days, and then rescuing me by taking me back- but this time, and I genuinely do not know why, it was different. Maybe I snapped. I dropped my phone into a boiling pot of spaghetti and I stopped answering his emails. I dragged my sorry carcass to therapy, and was slowly, painstakingly pieced back together. Thank God.

Daniel found a new girlfriend. A few months ago, a mutual friend told me he was arrested for throwing her down a flight of stairs and breaking both her arms in the process. His mug shot, with his dead, beady eyes, so clearly reveals the face of an aging predator. It chills me to think I clung to him so tightly. It was a literal death grip.

I'm 24 now. I've been diagnosed with complex post-traumatic stress disorder, among other things. I'm finally in a healthy relationship, but everyday is a struggle to feel at home in a gentle, respectful love. I've had to face my fears of abandonment by becoming, dare I say it, a strong and independent woman.

I'd like to reiterate that my intentions are not to criticize the RPW ideology just because my own experience was so severely misguided. I do, however, hope that my story serves as a cautionary tale for the young, impressionable women on this sub. There are minors in your midst, ladies. Their sincere desires to be part of successful romantic relationships must be protected. Where there is one cockroach, there are hundreds, and if Daniel exists then there are surely plenty of other men who would play a teenager's good intentions against her. A submissive, gentle woman can easily be enslaved.

And consider this: many of the women who arrive to RPW have been failed by popular culture. Many have seen romantic relationships crash and burn for a myriad of reasons. They may not have good role models. They feel an emptiness in their lives, and they're looking for solutions. They are vulnerable.

Please take a hard look at posts involving inter-relationship turmoil. Please keep an eye out for domestic abuse. I am begging you, women of the Red Pill, to be vigilant against those who might take advantage of your sisters' budding journeys. Set the example: show them that true love does not ensnare.

Thank you for your time, and may your paths lead you to every happiness.

Special thanks to the RPW mods for reviewing this post, and allowing this kind of content in the first place.