This post is largely for me. It gives me a chance to articulate and put to page the things that have been chasing each other around in circles inside my head. Maybe it'll help some of you. Maybe it won't. Either way, it belongs here in askMRP.

Backround: I married my high-school sweetheart, we've been together for 10 years married for 2 at this point. Due to some sob-story bullshit no one hear cares about, I ended up the omega of all omegas. Suicidal, playing videogames 30+ hours a week, failing classes due to suicide and depression. Que my birthday last year. I looked up, realized I was 290lbs (maybe 300lbs, I didn't weight myself until I had been on a 1500 cal a day diet for about 2 weeks). I still had not consummated my marriage, and we were good roommates at best. I was pissed. Started eating better. Going to the gym, and found Red Pill. I applied to go back to school (I graduate in August or December depending on whether one specific class is offered this summer).

I read. I thought. I worked out. I got an alt because my wife started snooping. I've since ditched the alt. I also rambo'd the fuck out of this. It was bad, and like any egotistical rambo, I needed to crash and burn to learn my lesson. I dropped 30lbs, finished a semester with A's, and started having sex with my wife, only to hit another sob story wall, when my rage quit fueling my actions.

I also decided that my wife was a unicorn. She didn't shit test. I've seen only one case of hypergamy from her (back in high school). She seemed to love an respect me, and all the other blue pill bullshit. I started thinking AWALT is only a hueristic anyway, maybe my wife is just an upstanding moral person who controls those impulses. Maybe she just doesn't have them. Maybe our mutual respect relationship was working out. She doesn't want to fuck me, but that could easily be because I'm just fat, she's from a sex negative home, and she really hates that I look at porn. My hamster went wild, and I believed it. Hence the spiral.

The end result of the sob story is I started low-T treatment (180) last December. I felt like Achilles. I started reverting back to old alpha behaviors from high-school. I started owning my shit again because I had the energy to do so. I was working out all the time. With the help of the T, fat started melting off my middle, and all of my muscles started filling out in all the right places. Passive Dread levels 1 and 2 kicking in, without even planning on my part.

Here's were I got kicked in the head. The more I started doing Red Pill mannerisms naturally, the more she liked it. The more sex I got. The more I could push past her "anything that's not missionary with the lights off is bad" mentality. Then two things happened back to back.

The first is that I missed a week of workouts, and binged on fast food for two. This brought back all the negativity, the depression, the suicidal thoughts. I cope with depression by being a beta fuck and looking at porn for 5-6 hours on campus away from her like I used to in my omega days. I come home, say fuck it. I'm going to own my fuck up. I'm not going to hide on the couch. I'm walking into our bedroom and going to bed.

"Where were you."

"Looking at porn, trying not to drive home while fantasizing wrapping my car around a tree."

"Well since your here in bed you did a shit job [of committing suicide]"

It was a cold slap in the face that I needed. She was right. I was finally getting my act together. She could relax around me. I was taking charge, and I just royally fucked up. I showed her in the most damning way possible, that this was all just an act and the real me was nothing more than a child. So I learned. I set some boundaries with her and myself. I started working out and eating right again.

The second thing was this past weekend. The big thing we've been working on is getting her comfortable with oral. We were making out on the couch and she says the usual "I don't wanna have sex tonight"

"It's cool, I just wanted to make out for a bit anyway. Then I'm going back to doing homework." (True, honestly. I'm trying to find her buttons to get her REALLY worked up. Thought some tease and denial might be a way of getting there.)

We finish making out and she gets up. Then "Don't move"

Ok? Sure why not. That means she's got something sexy in mind and I'm always willing to play. She closes all the blinds and shit. Strips down, and sucks me off. Of course I'm going to enjoy it and encourage that shit. If I want it to happen more I'm not going to tell her to fuck off.

Afterword, she's rooting around in my email for some form my college sent me that she needs to reference and finds out that I had a package waiting.

"You have a package?"

"Shit, ya. I forgot about that. Guess I'm picking it up tomorrow."

"Who's it from?" Note: not curious, accusatory.

What I should have said was:

"It's from Jessica, she wanted my approval and the lingerie she will be wearing at our next meetup."

What I actually did was spend the rest of the night DEERing.

It wasn't until I was in bed and thinking the next day that I realized. That was a shit-test. Then I thought back and realized either before or after most of our sexual encounters there was an actual shit-test of some kind over the last couple weeks. And I had failed ALL of them. Miserably.

My wife isn't a unicorn after all. She's shit-testing me now, AND THAT'S A GOOD THING. It means I'm worth shit testing. It also means I wasn't worth shit testing before, but I'm not going to stay mad at how she treated the little bitch I was. I deserved it then.

The only thing that changes in my stay plan is I need to get better at recognizing her shit test (she doesn't do the ones in the encyclopedia, or I'm too autistic to see it), and passing her shit tests. I handle them well with people I interact with in public. (It's a fun game to watch emotions flicker across faces for a truely spectacular AA). But not here. I still have her on a pedestal. Time to take a chisel to the base.

TL:DR;

If she isn't shit testing you, she's not a unicorn. You just aren't worth it even to her subconscious. You're at the very bottom. Start climbing.