Summary: had a mindfuck epiphany about a past relationship after reading an old RP-themed blog entry. (from the now defunct LAIDNYC blog, archived here. )

Body:

A few years ago my wife left me. Long story short, I was in a deep depression, at the lowest SMV I've ever had in my life, and barely holding back the urge to kill myself. I got rejected a hundred times a day on all the dating sites, but one girl very quickly became very enamored with me. I even recall thinking at the time that it was very strange that she would be so attracted to me even though I was a mean, depressed, drunk, nigh suicidal, bitter wimp. She wasn't even a whale. I mean, she wasn't tiny by any stretch, but I've had much fatter at much more confident times in my life. She was a little taller than I usually go for, but not taller than me, and I could still toss her around the bedroom without throwing my back out, so she was small enough for my purposes. And she had a pretty face and a great smile. Physically, she was way out of my league, I've never looked worse.

Anyway, this girl was 34, very clearly scampering out over the abyss, and she was about to experience the While E Coyote moment at my hands. She'd been trying hard to lock down a nice beta for a while now. (didn't know this at the time, obv, I hadn't started reading TRP yet) At the time I connected it to her age and dwindling reproductive window. She desperately wanted to have kids before it was too late, and I was her last best hope, she thought.

I've never been treated better by a woman. She was the ultimate girlfriend. She lived far away, drove three hours every friday to pick me up from work, drive me home, and fuck me like her freedom depended on it 3-4 times a day the entire weekend, then drive three hours back home. My house was a disaster area in a shitty neighborhood when she got there, and she cleaned the entire thing without me asking. She bought me new furniture, she brought in throw rugs and decorations, and she cooked every night. I thought this woman was the love of my life. I was naming our kids by the end of the first weekend. I picked up my guitar for the first time in three years and started practicing the song I was going to sing to her when I proposed. This was a no-brainer. This woman is a keeper, I'm locking her down before one of her exes realizes what a huge mistake he made and steals her back.

The relationship carried on like this for several months. Over that time she opened up about her sexual history, and admitted to me she'd slept with over 40 men. At the time I wasn't disgusted by that. I remember being mildly impressed, actually. A fellow connoisseur!

Well, I'm an introvert by nature, and she's an extrovert, and as always happens when these two get together without the self awareness to know it, I started to feel a bit smothered. I mentioned to her that we should take a break and re-assess how we feel. She had apparently heard that one before because she IMMEDIATELY threatened suicide...

That escalated quickly...

I immediately told her we were through, that I wouldn't be kept in a relationship at gunpoint and that she needed to go see a doctor immediately.

Anyway, after reading The Parable of Mark and Lauren it hit me like a baseball bat to the temple:

Women judge each other on relationship history, like men judge based on sex. If she gives away too much sex without commitment in return, women think she's a slut, just like a guy who tells every woman he loves her without ever getting sex in return is a loser, and gets stuck in the friend zone. A post wall woman who had a 40 cock hop across the carousel and couldn't even lock down a fat, depressed Omega... no wonder she was suicidal... I WAS her last best hope, I was a REAL downgrade from the men of her past, I was her rock bottom, any lower and she's trolling Brony conventions. The guys who pumped and dumped her all those years, that was the female equivalent of being stuck in the friend zone for three decades, she couldn't be a bigger loser in her eyes. I was guy number 41 to put her there, and I was in no position to be picky...

Man. Now I'm sad. She really wanted kids. I know she made her own bed, but still. I was stuck in the friend zone until age 22, and I wanted to die every fucking day...

TL:DR: Women get stuck in the slut zone just like men get stuck in the friend zone. Men forever label her a slut, and will never commit to her. I can imagine it feels about the same to them, since they value commitment from us like we value sex from them.