It’s 5:AM, and you pull yourself out of bed to hit the gym. Your wife, girlfriend, plate, or just some chick you’ve been fucking is next to you. You fucked her good last night. She didn’t really want to – at least not initially – but she knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if the sex tapers off, you’ll divorce, dump her, or stop calling, and that there are other women to take her place. And she doesn’t want that.
So she gave in to keep you interested, and that actually felt good. Powerful. Something about how she wouldn’t have fucked you, but the fact that you have power over her persuaded her, makes the sex that much better. Because until this Red Pill crap, you’d been the one on the losing end of the power stick. You’d been judged, emasculated, strung along, disrespected, spending all of your time jumping through hoops, desperate for the faintest whiff of sex. And now that you have the power, it feels good. Righteous. Just. Even when she doesn’t really want it, the fact that she submits anyway is almost as good of a rush as the times when she’s enthusiastic about it.
You wonder if it’s right to feel this way.
But you’re happy. You’re well-fucked. You’re in the best physical shape of your life. You make more money than you ever have. You’re actually interested in some of the other shit you have going on in your life outside of work and women – maybe for the first time in a long time. You’re excited to wake up each day, enthusiastic about the stuff you’re going to do. Happy.
You’re pretty sure that the woman (or women) you’re fucking might not be happy. The old you used to care about that, but the new you doesn’t have time to care. Sure, if she’s happy with you based on what you were going to do anyway, that’s great. But if she’s not, it’s no biggie. She’s still fucking you, and if she stops, there are others.
That’s the secret. Unhooking your happiness from hers. It’s not your job to make women happy. You’re responsible for your own happiness. Women are responsible for theirs.
When you’re out at some random bar running your mouth, you say whatever comes to mind. Whatever amuses you. You make fun of women. You ask silly questions. You give silly answers. You deflect and play games. You give a few surprising answers. You touch them, they touch you. The fact that you do what you want and don’t give a fuck about trying to please them is refreshing.
Women are sick to death of men bending over backward trying to please them. It’s boring. It’s creepy. It’s annoying. Women don’t want to be happy. Because when you make them happy, they feel like they owe you, and when they feel like they owe you, they resent the way you’re making them feel. Then they’re even less happy than when you started.
Do what you want. Do what’s good for you. Don’t try to make her happy. You’ll only make things worse. The only person who can make her happy is her. If she wants to keep fucking you to keep your interest, shrug and take your happiness. But don’t get invested. Let her figure her own happiness out for herself.
On the flip side, this is something you can use to your advantage. You don’t just want women to do what you want – you want them want what you want. You want the women you’re fucking to care whether you’re happy or not. You want them to want you to be pleased. You want them to associate your pleasure and happiness with their own. You want them to feel the exact opposite of the way that you feel about them right now.
Essentially, you want them to be the way you used to be, before The Red Pill.
Think about what women did back then to keep you interested and behaving a certain way for their benefit. What they said, what they hinted at, and what they actually did for you and how often. It was slow work, and it was very subtle, but over time, they were training you. Like a fucking dog. Conditioning you to do tricks for a pat on the head and an occasional treat … sometimes, but not all the time, leaving you guessing exactly what aspects of your performance to work on next time so you’d get that treat for sure. You were a fucking dog.
When you figure out what makes a woman happy, reward her with it, when she earns it. But not all the time. Once in awhile, when she does a good thing for you, piss on her anyway. Tell her that she did it wrong. Minimize her effort. Keep her guessing. Keep her trying harder. Make the act of making you happy difficult, but attainable – so that she feels like she’s accomplished something by pleasing you. Make her invest herself in the act. The more she invests herself in you, the less likely she’ll bail. On the contrary, the more she invests, the more she’s likely to invest more just to try to prove to herself that she’s right to be with you.
Don’t try to make her happy. Make her invested instead. The more invested she is, the less you’ll have to work to keep her, and the more time you’ll have to make yourself happy. If she really wants to be happy, it’s on her to figure that out. You do you.
If you haven’t checked out The Red Pill’s off-Reddit site, it’s worth a visit to see this and lots of other content. Here’s a link.