"She was a wonderful woman" read the eulogy, delivered through choked tears by one of her grandchildren. Everyone had wanted to tell a story at her funeral, her two sons, her daughter and her 8 grandchildren. The inlaws respectfully left it to the blood relatives to take turns reading. The sobs and weeping of the assembled crowd was punctuated with laughter when the stories of the good times were told. The grief in the room was tangible. An outsider looking at these well dressed, healthy and capable people, would wonder what could cause this mood to fall upon them.

It was John's turn to talk. John was a towering figure of a man, thick with muscle and wearing a well groomed, full length beard of black. His eye's were swollen and red, the words coming staccato as he did his best to continue. "Nanna always gave the best presents, sorry mum and dad!" he paused and broke into a smile, "and she was the best cook in the family as we all know", a warm chorus of smiles and nods again broke the grief in the room for a moment. The tributes flowed on, "she taught me how to use a sewing machine", "she would never leave the house without her makeup or one of her favourite hats", "she was not one to complain", "after she lost dad, we were all there day and night to help her through it", "she beat cancer, twice!". On and on came the tributes. Eventually her son had to step forward and ask for the tributes to stop because he did not want to have to pay double for the room hire.

Everyone in the room would have done anything for her. So many good memories of this caring woman whose strength was an inspiration to all. Not a bad word was said because just as in life, had anyone spoken harshly about this woman, then there were two sons and 5 grandsons who would have ripped apart anyone who did her wrong. They did not make women like her anymore was a common phrase used at the wake. She met granddad when she was only 17 at the school dance. They did everything together until he got sick, and even then she only left him to get groceries and medicine. Her passing would be a vacuum in their lives which could not be filled, but at the same time the warmth of her memory would support them forever. Her blood flowed through their veins and the memories of home cooked meals, warm hugs, her smile and her devotion would sustain them through this difficult time. Still, the awful fact remained, grandma was dead, and she would never come back.

Flash forward 50 years and imagine the eulogy delivered at a funeral for one of our modern Tinderellas? If anyone even bothers to turn up maybe we would hear some excerpts like this: "she never said no a to a line of coke and she never paid for a line either", "she knew how to deepthroat before she was 18", "she used to get free tatts by blowing the bikers at the tattoo shop", "she never said no to anal", "her daughter was the only girl who could outdrink her", "she loved getting cheques on child support day because she needed to buy herself new shoes", "she got dad banned from the house for abuse so her new boyfriend could sleep over whenever he wanted", "mum loved ham and pineapple pizzas with extra cheese", "after having a mum like her I knew that I would never want to get married or have kids", "when Billy finally left her when she was 60 she only had the cats, me and sis would not visit her after what she did to dad, besides the house was a pigsty", "after she cheated on dad he was a broken man", "I think my half brother Robbie should say something, he used to crash on her couch sometimes", "after I went to college I never spoke to her again so it is hard for me to say something now", "her new boyfriend was such a creep, he tried to sleaze onto me so I never went back to the flat", "I don't know why she left dad, he was a hardworking and loving man", "after her daughter Jane killed herself, her ice habit got really bad". I am sure you can all think of more, in fact I am sure there are readers on this sub right now who could tell us worse stories about their mothers.

Before the lies of feminists were swallowed up by mainstream society, women had every option to live a wonderful and fulfilling life. Of course life was not perfect but traditional gender roles were embraced, not reviled. Men looked for virtue and femininity in a potential mate. They expected women to be modest and no-one wanted to marry the town bike. Men bragged about how their wives were amazing cooks, they looked forward to a clean house and a hot meal when they got home. A woman of virtue who looked after her family was assured a position of respect and enormous soft power throughout her life, and when she was old. She would take her rightful position as a matriarch of her clan. Her sons and grandsons loved her and would be there to do any heavy work, enjoy her Sunday roast or spend quality family time with her. Her daughters and granddaughters learned everything from her. Her special recipes, how to take care of a busy household, how to live a life with meaning and purpose. Is it any wonder that most older women today think that feminism is a joke and that the generations who came after them are trash?

So what does a woman have to look forward to now that feminism has "liberated" her? The cock carousel? Her STEM job that she is no good at and hates, a broken family (that she broke), child support payments, getting pumped and dumped by as many Chad's as you can fit into a nightclub? The scorn of her children, who do not call or visit, the hatred of the doting husband that she abandoned and gaslighted? Time spent alone with cats once she turns 60? Ill gotten gains dished out by the family court? Getting railed by Chad and being unable to lock him down?The wall where she finally realises that her unbridled hypergamy left her a loser in life's game? Botox injections so she can still get a match with Chad on Tinder for a Friday night booty call when she hits 30? An unsatisfactory relationship (or many) with Billy Betabucks when Chad stops calling, a brain which is incapable of pair bonding as it has remoulded itself due to the constant oxytocin dumps released during her countless hook ups?

So next time you are thinking how badly feminism has screwed you over as a man, spare a thought for the tinderellas and their fools gold. Spare a thought for the betas raising Chad's kid or who are paying child support so she could have one last fling. At least as a red pill man you have the option of enjoying the fall. Sure it has robbed you of the option of a secure marriage and a happy family, but keep your SMV high and you can pump and dump your way through a conga line of bimbos. You age like fine wine, she ages like milk. You will still be smashing 25 year olds when you are 50 (just ask Uncle Vasily). She may accuse you of abuse and keep you from your kids, but if you still see them as much as the courts allow, you will be the one they ring on a weeknight and visit on the weekend when they grow up. Feminism only takes, it delivers nothing to anyone (except those elite few who profit from the damage it does). Feminism takes the most from women, second from betas, for alphas at least it is a gray cloud with a silver lining (easy pussy).

No wonder poor old grandma is rolling in her grave. (Oh and excuse my terrible writing at the beginning, it is not my occupation, just wanted to spin a short story to help highlight the true tragedy here).