Stumbled across this subreddit the other day (one of the few that doesn't make me gag), and thought I'd share a story and some thoughts as a way of introducing myself to the community.

I was pretty fucking beta throughout high school and my first year of college. What few girls I did hook up with were busted, and I didn't lose my virginity until I was a month shy of 20. Sad days. Joining the military and hitting the gym on the reg turned all that around, thankfully. I finally started growing a pair of balls, and my number went from zero to almost 60 in under three years. At that point, I had achieved alpha status, and it felt fucking awesome.

That said, without knowing the principles y'all know and love, I was still prone to stupid mistakes, especially Unicorn syndrome. Let's call the girl Sarah. Sarah was initially perfect to me. Petite, shy, innocent, a bit younger, and pretty damn intelligent. However, as a few months went by, it became more and more clear that the shyness was just a facade. The naggy, psychotic bitch that Sarah truly was increasingly began to surface. Temper tantrums over the smallest things, the "I don't deserve this!" whining, etc. Like a pushover I put up with it and repeatedly accepted fault. It was disgusting, but like an imbecile, at the time I figured the behavior would change over time. That I could fix her.

After several months with this girl, I took her on a trip. Planned out and paid for by myself. And yet, the shit tests continued without end. One evening during a relatively small fit she was having, I finally had a moment off clarity. "This girl fucking sucks, why are you doing this to yourself?" Got back to our room, and broke up wit her on the spot. Naturally, she was blind sided, and thought I couldn't be serious. But I was. She literally got on her hands and knees, sobbing, tugging at my pants to reconsider. Was this enjoyable? Hell no, for all her faults I genuinely felt bad for the girl and wanted to embrace her and make her feel better (and head to Poundtown, USA for some make up sex). But I remained stern, and held my ground. That's what sets us apart, isn't it? Not letting emotions get the best of our judgement. I had finally wised up. Cutting our trip short, I spent the next day hauling ass on the highway to hang out with my bros in a nearby city. I don't think I've ever felt as liberated as I did on that drive. I felt like Chief at the end of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

Moral of the story is don't be afraid to go with your gut and nuke a relationship. It's tough, but it feels amazing ending things completely on your own terms. Women are too easy to come by to tolerate a tall order of bullshit (unless you're married, in which case I'd be more inclined to try and go into damage control mode). Had I known about TRP at the time, I would not have put up with Sarah for nearly as long. The red flags would have been apparent within the first month. Looking forward to interacting with y'all moving forward.