My husband comes from a big rodeo family. I kid you not, it is a thing. His father ran away at 15 and became a bareback rider, where he eventually met my mother-in-law, a trick rider who participated in a sister act for her family's rodeo company. My husband's uncle now owns the family company and both his mother and her sister work as rodeo secretaries, a more complex and lucrative job than the title implies. Additionally, everyone in the extended family runs their own cattle, with my husband's parents owning a thriving ranch, themselves. It's a family business rooted in what I'm realizing is an independent Red Pill environment that feels no compulsion to change or acclimate to our progressive, P.C. culture.

This past weekend, when we went to visit the family ranch, my mother-in-law complained about the assistant assigned to the rodeo secretaries and mentioned that she was a couple of years younger than I am, so 27/28. Apparently, after each rodeo, instead of talking to the other secretaries, this girl ignored everyone. My husband's aunt, who shared a room with her, said she was up at all hours of the night, texting men she'd met at all the rodeo dances, which even I know just a few years in, are not something nice girls attend after age 22. This conversation got my husband talking.

Having met me when he was 30, my husband had years to tire of the wild and crazy life that was helping his uncle run rodeos during the summer, drinking at dances and parties, and going home with rodeo groupies, also known as buckle bunnies. These women do exactly what their title implies, leaving with the hottest cowboy who will have them each night of the weekend, having their fun and eventually hoping one will stick around... which according to my husband, almost never happens.

You see, everyone knows everyone in the rodeo and cattle world. So, a woman who goes home with a different cowboy every night, starting at 18, has made quite a name for herself after just a couple of years. Men look to her and know that she'll be a good time, but everyone also knows that one guy who actually married his party girl. If he's lucky, she's still hot, but she is most assuredly just as much of a mess as always and his mother still hates her. So it is, when said cowboy has tired of the life and has purchased his own land and cattle, he doesn't need or want a girl who can drink him under the table (no matter how many have their number in his phone), but one who will get up in the middle of the night to help him tend to a sick calf, to instill the same values in his children that his mother (who never made it to a single rodeo dance, herself), worked to instill in hers.

During this conversation, my husband mentioned a few girls he knew growing up, who'd made the same mistake as this irritating secretary's assistant. Instead of making connections to make themselves an actual asset in this world, like learning to raise cattle or even just taking full advantage of the chance to work as a rodeo secretary, they tried to market something of which there was an overabundance: sex... which eventually earned them a baby with a man who will still never marry them... and a permanent presence at the rodeo dances.

My mother-in-law once laughed about the #MeToo movement, telling me that she'd love to hear what these women would have to say about the things she'd heard in the rodeo world, so it goes without saying that no one is shy about this Red Pill fact: you cannot be the party girl and the wife, never with the same man, and unlikely with a different one, because he will find out what you were up to all those years. Yes, he was up to exactly the same thing, without regrets, because he doesn't have to be sorry now that he's settled down and made himself an asset. Once he's gotten it all out of his system, he'll still find a sweet young girl to sit next to him in church, to bake cookies with his mom... and she'll have to ask "What's a buckle bunny?" one day, too. There are no apologies. It's just what is.