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Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label marriage. Show all posts

What Do Divorce Experts Say Women Want for Valentines Day?

MORE Beta!




If the social expectations of Valentine’s Day are already stinging your newly-opened eyes, with the idea of blowing your dough on flowers, candy, diamonds and other stylized, symbolic representations of your devotion undermining your efforts of an authentic emotionally-meaningful display, then hold on to your fedoras, Gentlemen: apparently this exercise in blanket gender abasement just isn’t GOOD enough for the feminists of America.  At least according to the illustrious left-wing tabloid HuffPo, where the message is loud and clear: this year feminists want their menfolk to be even MORE Beta!

The obsequious posturing, overindulgent gifting and fawning devotion of yesteryear are no longer sufficient for the gals.  Apparently, on the one day of the year in which one is supposed to celebrate one’s romantic and sexual union with your mate is just TOO DARN MUCH PRESSURE for the feminists of America.

The gifts, the flowers, the candy, they’re great and all . . . but they aren’t enough.  You see, that sets up the idea that the women in question might feel OBLIGATED to have sex with the men in their lives ("husbands"), the ones who just shelled out a car payment on an expression of their affection that can be adequately bragged about at work.  And if men are getting anything out of it, then it has to be BAD for women.

In a disgusting orgy of self-gratifying entitlement, the authors of the post (Rabbi Robert B. Barr and Dr. Jill Bley, PhD.) reveal:

As wives everywhere unwrap their gifts, they'll be thinking, "So what's in this for me?" Far from being that romantic holiday as depicted on the cards, Valentine's Day has become another time for men to place more expectations on women.

I’ll just let that lovely tidbit of cognitive dissonance settle on your frontal lobes for a moment.  “As they unwrap their gifts” . . . “what’s in this for me?” . . . irony much?

The authors of the post make a compelling argument: men already suck pretty badly.  Just ask women.  Here are the reasons why women should spitefully reject their husband’s solemn attempts at a socially-appropriate and likely heartfelt display at love and devotion:

[W]omen are working harder than men.

(Men must therefore  suck.  How dare they, the lazy bastards!  Unemployment is NOT an excuse!)

Most are still being paid less for their work outside the home.

(Most avoided lucrative technical career paths that would have led to higher salaries in favor of more “meaningful” work . . . that often means more hours and less pay.)

They are likely to be shouldering more of the burden of household and child rearing responsibilities than men.

(Unlike their unmarried contemporaries, who are doing 100% of the housework without any masculine assistance, the lucky ladies!) 

Women in the workplace continue to face sexism, spoken and unspoken.

(Men in the workplace continue to die and get maimed at a far higher rate than women)

They are often exhausted by the expenditure of energy trying to combat the sexism they face without appearing petty or bitchy.

(Men are usually just exhausted from working . . . there’s too much to do to worry about appearing petty and bitchy)

Their work day is almost never over when they arrive back in their homes.

(Whereas men utterly lack post-work activities and job-related homework)

Poor, beleaguered feminist wives!  How they suffer!  

Seriously, it’s bad enough that they actually deigned to marry a male in the first place, thereby rescuing him from a fate of cheap and easy sex, beer, and action movies.  To actually have to work IN ADDITION to running a marriage?  That’s a little too much for the poor dears, apparently.   

And of course the LAST thing they want to do is be reminded of their distasteful and embarrassing social plight by the possibility of catering to her husband’s beastly lusts. 

Adding insult to injury, Valentine's Day becomes an opportunity for men, in the guise of romance, to obligate their wives to sex when what their wives really want is time to relax, sleep, and have their houses cleaned by someone else.

Because Sex is apparently the insult to the injury of Marriage.  And understanding that men are incapable of carnal congress with even a modicum of emotional content behind it, Barr and Bley quite rightly identify the entire phenomenon with what it so clearly is: one small step away from socially-mandated justified rape.  Because the LAST thing a hard-working wife wants on Valentine’s Day is to get laid.  Sex is a chore, to feminists, and the mere fact that we have a holiday devoted to the idea of romantic love and the special bond between a man and a woman is no reason to bow to the iron will of the Patriarchy.

Thought women enjoyed Valentine’s Day, gentlemen?  You sadistic bastards.  It’s a crushing hell of obligatory sex and feigned affection.  Indeed, according to Mssrs. Barr & Bley, the very sight of a red heart can inspire a violent reaction:

For many women Valentine's Day does not bring out romantic feelings, instead, it ignites anger and frustration.  Valentine's Day seems to benefit men while requiring women to smile as they accommodate the desires of another man one more time.

Yes, all of those nasty Pandora bracelets, diamond earrings, new cars and 4 star dinners are for OUR benefit, Gentlemen.  Just one more way we can guilt our wives onto their backs, making them the unwilling slaves to our salacious for the cost of a mere dozen long-stem red roses and an uncomfortable relationship discussion!  Celebrate love?  In the feminist universe, love and marriage are polar opposites, a distasteful and necessary evil required for the support of progeny, nothing more.  If you needed further proof of the Patriarchy’s evil plan, Barr and Bley can pinpoint the villains:

 
Women, at home and work, continually face the challenges of men who demand much and don't give enough in return. While it is claimed that it is a holiday for women it doesn't take much to see that it's the men who get what they want, while women are wanting.

Hear that, Gents?  You demand too much.  And you don't give enough in return, you ungrateful assholes.  Your woman doesn’t want romance and love, attention and affection, validation of her femininity and of your attraction to her . . . she wants laundry and a nap.  

And anything less than that is proof – PROOF! – that you don’t really love them.

So let’s take a look at the stunning relationship advice these wise folks give in order for you to keep your wife from feeling sexually oppressed, and consider their implications.  Barr and Bley think that what your wivesREALLY want is:

  1. Something they want but you don’t know what it is because she’s not going to tell you. (hint: you can’t buy her anything you’d like to see her in, you’d think she’d like, etc.  It has to be something she picks out and you just pay for, because that’s what good feminist Beta husbands do).
  2. Forget about sex and ask for a honeydew list.
  3. Clean the house . . . like a chick.  Because the way you USUALLY do it (which is just fine for you) sucks, and is proof that you secretly despise her.  It isn’t clean until she says it’s “chick clean”.
  4. Do the laundry.  Because a box of Tide is a hell of a lot more meaningful than another stupid, expensive Pandora charm no one knows what the hell it means anyway.
  5. Make dinner or “make reservations”.  As if you didn't have enough reservations at this point . . . 
  6. Do all of her housework for her. 
  7. Don’t have sex with her unless she specifically requests it in writing.
  8. If sex is what she wants, don't really bring the penis into it.  Toss her a vibrator and then go to sleep.
It’s telling that both Barr and Bley are in various aspects of the Divorce Industry, as this advice could have been written as a public service announcement for the Divorce Lawyers Association.  Anyone with any Red Pill understanding will see that the above list of what women “really” want from the men they've sworn to spend their lives with isn’t the solid strength and passionate embrace of the love of their lives in a tempest of Alpha-laden erotic meaning, its:

  1. Beta
  2. Beta
  3. Beta
  4. Beta
  5. Beta
  6. Beta
  7. Beta
  8. and more Beta

Seriously, if that post doesn’t depress the hell out of any married woman who reads it, she has bigger issues in her marriage than Valentine’s Day.  Most of the Manosphere despises V-Day as the commercialized Hallmark holiday it is, an opportunity for women to guilt men into socially-braggable expensive displays of their devotion.  Really, sex was the only reason we guys ever indulged in the exercise anyway.

The problem with American marriages, according to Barr & Bley, is that the dudes are just too darn Alpha for their poor feminist wives.  The answer to a troubled marriage is, according to folks who make their living off of divorce, to add even MORE Beta.  Men are STILL too manly, and women are STILL too oppressed.  Imagine, all of those poor, college-educated wives out there being in miserable and oppressive marriages, instead of the liberating and fun-filled world of Dating 2.0!  The husbands of Americamust be totally evil bastards if the consensus of feminist opinion is that the way to celebrate marriage and love in our society is by doing laundry, not your wife, on Valentines Day.


If the feminists of the world want their fellas to go full-fledged flaccid Beta feminization, as Barr and Bley contend, then it behooves their Blue Pill husbands to indulge them.  I’m sure you know of a couple (or are part of a couple) where the hapless AFCturns in a standard-performance every V-Day, and still gets bitched out for how he got it “wrong” by his feminist-leaning wife even if he gets duty sex.  Because guys suck.  And Valentines’ day isn’t about THEM. Or their nasty penises.  True Love?  That's for suckers.  The hard-working corporate feminist wives are tired of picking up the slack for their lazy hubbies, just to be expected to put out after being showered with gifts and praise.

Of course, if you're a dude, the above-message probably feels like a hot blade being jabbed again and again into your kidney by collective femininity, further proof that women don't understand their own attraction (nor, apparently, do rabbis).  

SO . . . here’s what I propose.  The Beta Revolt.

If you are a Blue Pill dude who is in an unhappy marriage with a feminist wife (or just know one – and let’s face it, we all know at least one) – then this Feb 14 is your chance.  This is your opportunity to suggest that -- perhaps -- her approach to your marriage and relationship has failed to take into account one very important factor: her husband.

While your wife is at work, scrub the house and do laundry.  Take a six-pack and make a day of it – and clean the holy fuck out of the place.  Like you’re getting ready to show it.  Get the laundry folded and put away, everything.  If you have a Red Pill pal, ask him to help. 

Then do it just like the article says.  Order a single cheese pizza, buy a cheap vibrator, some bubble-bath and a single-serving bottle of wine.  Hell, throw in a DVDof some lame romcom.  No flowers, no candy, no jewelry – make sure youstick to the Barr-Bley Plan.

Then print out the HuffPo article, in its entirety.  In color, even.  Leave it folded up on the pizza box with the following note:

Happy Valentine’s Day, Honey! 

I know how much you admire and like to promote feminist principles, and after I saw this article I realized that I had been unintentionally oppressing you all this time, and I had no idea.  I really took it to heart, discussed it with my friends, and came to some realizations about our marriage.  So I took the advice in the article, and I think you’ll find that the house is clean enough for your mother to visit.  The laundry is done, folded, and put away.  I even got some help on the yard. 

To continue the festivities, you’ll notice I got you dinner, so you wouldn’t have to cook or clean tonight.  There’s a bottle of bubble bath, so you can indulge yourself and rest from your hard and stressful day.  I think you’ll like the movie, too, and I you combined it with the bath and the wine, you’ll be nice and relaxed.  Plus, if you’re feeling particularly relaxed and want to indulge yourself, I took the liberty of buying you a new toy.  Enjoy! 

Now, as you look over my humble offering, please note that I didn’t waste money on roses, flowers of any sort, candy, jewelry, or a fancy dinner, all of which might set up the obligation of sex in your mind – and you know that’s the last thing I want to do.  This is about you.  All the feminist articles I’ve read have said something like this, that this is what you REALLY want for Valentine’s Day, and who am I to question the wisdom of the collective femininity?  I want you to truly enjoy yourself without expectation or obligation.

So dig in, have a glass of wine, take a bubble bath, watch a movie, and tear one off, if you’d like.  And while you do, remember what a kind, thoughtful considerate husband you have.  Delight in the knowledge that you have a truly transcendent feminist marriage, one in which the needs and the responsibilities of the household are equally shared between us, without either party dominating the other.  Where issues of sex and affection are secondary to a good working-relationship.  Where erotic attention and thoughtful appreciation of our intimate selves rightfully takes a backseat to our common goal of equal dignity and mutual respect. 
And while you are thinking about this, eating your pizza, drinking your wine, and watching your movie, I’m going to be at a strip club, Hooters, or area sports bar to celebrate the wonderful independence and strength of our marriage.  At exactly 8:30 pm. I’ll be arriving at ___________, staying for half an hour for a drink, and then I’m going to check into a motel, so that you can enjoy your Valentine’s Day evening in peace without me pestering you for sex.

If you decide, however, that you are finding the ideology of feminism somehow lacking when it comes to how we conduct our marriage, and wish to discuss it further, then you know where I’ll be and when and for how long. 
But understand that if you show up, you’ll be essentially asking to get boned so hard your ancestors get sore, without apology, without regret, and without too much foreplay.  You’ll be admitting that you’d rather be a real woman loved by a real, passionate man the way a real husband loves a real wife than a co-equal partner of a semi-permanent domestic arrangement.  And you’ll be admitting that you place more faith, stock, and value in the strength of our marriage than you do in how a couple of “experts” suggest you should feel about it and the important issue of housework that apparently plagues your mind, day and night, instead of having sex with me.
 So consider carefully: Delicious, freshly-delivered pizza, a tasty glass of wine, a luxurious bubblebath, an entertaining movie and an early evening to bed with your new plastic pal, or a night of seedy, nasty lovemaking that will challenge your personal boundaries and possibly cause a UTI.  
 You’re probably wondering why I’m doing this, too.   Heck, you might even be worried that this is some kind of mid-life crisis.  That's not entirely inaccurate.  The fact is, I’m not entirely happy with how things have been going in our marriage, and I figured this would be a novel way to get your attention on the matter.  
 And while, of course, I'm always open to frank and open discussion, the fact is that the attitudes towards husbands expressed in this article are fairly common from what I understand.  I'd sincerely like to know your take on the subject, but of course I completely understand if you do not want to interrupt your rare quality time and would prefer to discuss this at another time.  
Either way, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.
Happy Valentines Day!
Love,

Your Average Beta Chump Husband

Then go to a bar.  Have a few, but don’t get drunk.  Take an hour to drop by a buddy’s house and change into something sharp-looking.  Seriously, do your damnedest to make yourself look HOT.  Do, indeed, rent a hotel room – you’re going to need it, one way or another.  Then go to the designated bar fifteen minutes before the designated time, park yourself on a stool, order a drink, and wait.  And turn off your cell phone.

If she shows up looking sweet, feminine, and ready to be your wife on Valentine’s Day, make it worth her while.  And shag her rotten.

If she shows up with tears in her eyes, wearing sweatpants and no make-up, begging for you to come home and “talk about this”, then hand her your hotel card, tell her that’s where you’ll talk – naked –  give her a kiss on the cheek, and leave.

If she doesn’t show up . . . then you have married a confirmed feminist who is probably on her way to becoming your ex-wife, no matter how thoughtful she told you she thought the pizza was.. 

Now, I understand that the danger rate is pretty high on this – but if your marriage has been suffering anyway, one more lame-ass Valentine’s Day isn’t going to help matters any.  In fact, it’s just going to pit your feeble Betatude against her imagined hyper-Alpha ideal, and your shit is going to look weak in comparison.

But this?  This is Alpha.  It might sting, but its unmistakable backbone.  She might get pissed off, but she won’t be bored.  And you’ve got about a 50-50 shot at hotel sex (more, if you aren’t choosy about who it’s with).  If your relationship has been going through one unsatisfactory “relationship discussion” after another, and you’re struggling with finding a good Red Pill moment to draw a line in the sand, this might be your day. This might be the way.  Because nothing says “your relationship is in trouble” to any woman, feminist or not, than having her co-workers ask “so what did your husband do for you on Valentine’s Day?” with a knowing smile, and having to say “he let me bathe, sleep, and masturbate by myself while he was at a strip bar and then checked into a hotel.”

I mean, “we had surprise hotel sex” sounds a lot better, or at least a lot less dysfunctional.  Even to alleged feminists.

Gentlemen, if you're considering taking the Red Pill, make this Valentines Day your day to revolt from Beta Chumpatude and start cultivating the Alpha that she might not even know she wants.  Buy yourself (and/or her) a copy of Married Man's Sex Life Primer and start standing up straight when you walk.  Study Married Game and then game the hell out of your wife . . . whether she "wants" it or not.  Start taking control of your marriage, your relationship, and your sex life . . . before you get stuck doing laundry in a vain attempt to earn her love, respect, and poon.  Do it right, and then next year you'll have to think up something crazy to do for Valentine's Day . . . because just regular great sex will be so ordinary that it just won't be as special anymore.  That doesn't mean you can get out of doing laundry, though.

Because, as Mrs. Ironwood says, a dude doing laundry is sexiest when the sheets he's washing he messed up honestly.




The Three Alphas


Over the holidays the Red Pill came up more than once, in a lot of different contexts.  One intriguing discussion revolved around my definition of a “Wolf Alpha”.

For those of you just joining us, my own variation on Vox Day’s brilliant Socio-Sexual Hierarchy involves dividing clear masculine “Alphas” into different sub-categories, based upon their focus.  Each one is clearly an “Alpha Male”, but they present differently, have different values and concerns, and they express their Alpha nature very differently.

The one commonly known in the PUA community is the “Bull Alpha”.  This is the traditional playboy, the over-sexed harem-developing dude who can commit to a hairstyle more easily than committing to a woman.  Often driven professionally, successful, and extremely self-confident, the Bull Alpha might love women, plural, but settling on one woman is against his nature.

The Bull Alpha is the natural PUA.  He's got Game as an innate talent.  Pussy is a sport for him, perhaps a passion, but he's into variety, not consistency.


Then there are the Bear Alphas.  I won’t get into them much here, considering the discussion I make of them in the book (still waiting on word).  Basically, Bear Alphas are the kind of men who other men admire and who are often so committed to an ideal that their family, wife, and personal lives are secondary to that ideal or passion.  Sometimes Bear Alphas are, indeed, openly gay, but more often they are studiously non-sexual, seeing any devotion of energy to such things as detracting from their commitment.   But Bear Alphas are their own unique kind of Alpha Male.



But then there are the Wolf Alphas.  Wolf Alphas, unlike Bull Alphas, are more interested in finding an excellent wife and devoting themselves utterly to their family.  Wolves are highly social creatures, just like humans, and the social hierarchy of the pack is an important survival function for the species.  A Wolf Alpha is a man who has essentially made the survival and prosperity of his family, and the members thereof, his personal responsibility. 

Bull Alphas make their personal vision or ego their personal responsibility, and see the fulfillment of that vision as proof of their success.  That success is validated by the mad poon they can pull as their confidence and success makes them irresistible to a lot of women.

Bear Alphas have made the ideals and vision of the non-familial group their personal responsibility, and see the continued prosperity and success of that group as a reflection of their personal success.  Their success is validated through social respect and the praise and acknowledgement of their professional peers. 

Wolf Alphas have made their family their focus.  Their dedication and devotion is to their personal social and genetic clan, in which they assume a leadership role.  This often means gently dominating the family to ensure proper security, health, and guidance for everyone, as well as undertaking to provide as many resources as possible for the family.  A Wolf Alpha’s dedication to his family (including his wife) is not a betrayal of his Alpha status – it’s an expression of it. 

Bull Alphas make great lovers and poor husbands.  Bear Alphas make (often) mediocre and awkward lovers and distant if competent husbands.  Wolf Alphas make good lovers and great husbands, if they have done a proper job of wife selection (and most Wolf Alphas make a point of that).


Why is this important?  Because in chasing down Alpha, women often catch a whiff and don’t recognize the specific aroma.  A woman can find a Bull Alpha ridiculously sexy and entertaining, but trying to build a life with him is going to be a full-time job, as you fight off both predatory women and his own urge to stray.  A woman can invest great hope in a relationship with a Bear Alpha, because of his great passion for a cause or an ideal – particularly if she shares that ideal or holds that cause dear. 

But a woman who marries a Bear Alpha is in for a long and frustrating relationship . . . and more than one Bear Alpha has been secretly bisexual, as his charisma and passion attract same-sex attention.  Marrying a Bear Alpha might give a woman great social prestige, but its unlikely for her to find the relationship deeply fulfilling unless she, too, places the common ideal above the needs of her relationship and family.

Wolf Alphas are different – they are actively seeking to breed with a long-term, committed partner.  And they frequently masquerade as high Betas or even Gammas, as they seek out that perfect Mrs. Wolf to build a family with.  They may even masquerade as a Bull Alpha or (more rarely) a Bear Alpha in their quest, in order to ferret out a prospective wife’s character and values.

Wolf Alphas have very high standards, but they are also ridiculously loyal and protective once they have committed.  Their success is based almost entirely on their functioning family, and they will make nearly any sacrifice to that end – including forgoing promotions and employment opportunities a Bull Alpha would find irresistible, and a Bear Alpha would feel duty-bound to accept.  A Wolf Alpha’s success is proven in raising his children to maturity and preparing them for adult life, with the active participation of an equally-passionate mate. 

How do you spot young Wolf Alphas on the hunt?  They’ll often hang back and observe before plunging into a social situation.  They work well in groups, and will sometimes have 2-3 other dudes around them for cover, protection, and support.  They will frequently feign goofiness or make outrageous statements on early acquaintance in order to gauge a woman’s reaction.  When discussing the future, they almost always have a plan, even if they are willing to change it to suit their circumstances.  They often know what they want to do when they grow up, and they have no qualms about stating their desire for children and a wife – ONE wife.

That doesn’t mean that it’s easy to get them to commit – indeed, one of the telling differences between a hard Beta and a stealthy Wolf Alpha is how easy it is to get the former to commit, and how difficult it is to win that prize from the latter.  A Wolf might screw you rotten and make you make the pig noise, but he isn’t going to introduce you to Mom or agree to go to your sister’s wedding until you prove yourself worthy.

Wolf Alphas have very little tolerance for infidelity.  Or any kind of disloyalty, but infidelity is particularly insidious to the Wolf Alpha.  It’s not just a crime against the relationship, it’s a crime against the mutual dedication to the family that a Wolf Alpha expects – and demands – in his life.  If a male Wolf Alpha does have an affair, he is often deeply wracked with guilt about it and considers it a catastrophic mistake. 


When folks in the Manosphere are throwing around the Alpha term, sometimes it’s helpful to stop and give some thought to the variations.  Just as there are different kinds of “Beta” (High Beta, Low Beta, Gamma, Delta, etc.) dudes, the different kinds of Alpha men who have mastered the art of manliness enough to impose their will upon the world are variations on the same robust theme.  

Girl Game: Why It's Not Hopeless


I have a friend, a lady friend, who just turned 40.  Ish.



 She’s single, a single working mom with a grown son, and she is drop-dead gorgeous.  She is about as far from the Wall as a woman can get at her age – from two feet away she can pass for 20.  Italian features, beautiful fair skin, long curly hair with a distinguished touch of gray.  She knows how to dress, how to present herself, and she wears her femininity unashamedly on her sleeve.

She really, really wants to meet a dude – the right dude – and get married.  But a few weeks ago, at a mutual friend’s birthday party, we got to talking and I leveled with her about her chances – and any 40 year old woman’s chances of finding a permanent, decent dude at this stage of life – and from what I understand she’s been hopelessly depressed since then.

Here’s the deal: the numbers are the numbers, and the numbers don’t lie.  That doesn’t mean you are a number, however.  In fact, just by reading this you’ve improved your chances of finding the rare and elusive Marriage-Minded-Bachelor.  Allow me to explain.

Consider the Sexual Market Place in all of its brutal glory.  Consider the cold, hard numbers about sexual attraction, and how a woman gets hers all at once and declines over time, and a man gets his gradually and in increasing amounts over time.  

Consider the number of women in the SMP who are open to the idea of a long term relationship with a man.  You’re in that pool, and it’s huge.  You may not want to think of yourself "in competition" with other women over a mere man, but that's the Red Pill reality of the situation.  You can either continue to fool yourself by pretending that you aren't really competing, you're just "waiting for the right one" as you get shut out of one promising date after another by other women - your competitors - or you can bite the bullet, be willing to be realistic, and step up your Girl Game to the point where you're a contender.

Now consider the subset of the pool of women who want to find a husband – and are willing to make that a life priority.  If you fall within that category, you’re already in a better position than the women who aren’t actually consciously pursuing a long-term relationship, but are depending on the fickle finger of Fate or Jesus to bring them a man.  Congrats!  They're idiots, you've made a decisive move.

Further, if you are one of those women who has decided that finding the right husband is a worthy and noble goal, and are willing to put forth the effort to pursue that goal, then you have further self-selected into a higher probability pool.  Once you have established a realistic goal and have committed to it, you automatically improve your chances over your lackluster competitors who are waiting for "chemistry" or "electricity" -- in other words, they're letting their pussies decide the issue.

Now, you know you want a husband, and you know that you’ve got to devote some time and energy to finding him.  “True Love” says to wait for Fate or Kismet . . . but the vulture said “Fuck this waiting around shit!  I’m going to go kill something!”  That is, sometimes you have to take proactive action even if it's outside of your comfort zone.  The next step is figuring out just what kind of husband you want.  That’s very important . . . but you have to be Red Pill realistic about it.  

First of all, discard all fantasies of the Christian Grey billionaire kinkazoid.  Sure, he’s out there, but dudes like that are what we call “Bull Alphas”, that is, he’s going to get into your panties and hit the road, or keep you spinning on the side until you realize that no, he isn’t ever going to commit.  That whole falling-in-love-with-the-innocent-grad-student-and-living-happily-ever-after bullshit is just this side of criminal negligence -- kind of like telling a retarded kid that he has a realistic shot at the Presidency without having oil wealth and nepotism behind you.  Set your sights realistically, on a real dude.  Just by opening yourself up to the possibilities, you improve your chances.

So let's take a look at you.  This is going to sound an awful lot like “lowering your standards”, but the cold hard reality is that if you’re over 30, your Objective Sex Rank is inevitably in decline.  No matter how adept you are at keeping it at bay, even though you’re a hot 40 year old, the “high ranking” guys who are really looking to settle down are looking in the 25-30 range, prime baby-making years.  If you are desperate to get pregnant and have kids with your future husband, prepare yourself: your chances just went down again.  But put a pin in that thought, because we’ll come back to it.


But consider this, as you “lower your standards” and decide that maybe just a bachelors degree will do, when you were really hoping for a doctorate: when you are considering a man on a date, and he can just about hear you “lowering your standards” to condescend to date him and consider him for mating.  When a woman’s eyes play over you and you can see them wince as she thinks “y’know, if I don’t think about it too much, he’s not bad”.  One whiff of that, and you’ve likely already blown it.  No one wants to feel like they’re someone else’s consolation prize.

Part of the problem is that you are thinking of it as “lowering your standards”, when in fact what you are doing is “adjusting to the reality of the situation”.  Because more than likely your original “standards” for what Prince Charming needs were formed in your starry-eyed 20s, when you really thought you’d be famous or rich or happily married to Mr. Perfect by now.  While your girlish idealism may feed into your key romantic fantasies, the plain fact is that the dude you saw yourself with when you were 25 isn’t on the menu anymore.  

But that doesn’t mean that what is on the menu isn’t just as good . . . maybe better.  

Love happens in the strangest of places, to the most diverse people, and while more often than not that infatuation that drives love dies a natural death pretty early on, it’s also quite true that there are times when love between unlikely pairs blossoms into something incredible and wondrous.  When you have closed your heart to all but a narrow range of possibilities, you have artificially reduced your chances of finding a good mate because of your own inability to envision success.  

One friend of mine left a promising relationship when she was 31 because of her boyfriend’s apparent lack of ambition.  By the time she was 34, it was clear that a secure, decent paying gig is actually a pretty good thing, even if it means she wouldn't get the McMansion of her dreams . . . but by that time he’d gotten snatched up by a girl with more sense.  Then his boss died unexpectedly and left him the business.  Leave your preconceived notions at home when you go on a date, and your chances of finding a man improve dramatically.

After you have ditched your preconceived ideas about who your Mr. Right is, and you have opened yourself to the possibility of a relationship, then your chances of finding a dude go back up.  Remember, the more effective mating strategy is not to find the most handsome, richest guy you can, despite the allure.  Indeed, a man’s Sex Rank comes far less from his looks than his context, and it’s more likely to go up over time than down.  If you are a solid 7, who can whip it up to an 8 or an 8.5 in a pinch, then finding a dude who is a 9 isn’t your best bet at all.  That’s the dude who is going to dump you for a younger model three years after you get married – if he ever commits.


If you’re a solid 7, then finding another 7 or even a 6 is a better bet.  Because in ten years, you’re going to drop a full point and he’s going to rise a full point, and ideally you want your SR to be slightly lower than your future husband’s.  Ditching preconceived ideas about who Mr. Right is and considering men you ordinarily wouldn’t give a second look at increases your chances dramatically.  

That being said, you still have to find the right dude.

I’ve helped a lot of women look for love with varying degrees of success, but one of the key things I do is have her envision her Mr. Right, down to the last detail – because sometimes those details can be key.  

One lady in Manhattan decided to get serious about her reproductive strategy and asked my advice.  After going over her list of must-haves and would-be-nices, I pointed out that the kind of man she wanted (a 30-something engineer who wants kids and has a secure job) is going to be attracted to certain kind of activities, and by placing herself in the right place, she might just hit the right time for Mr. Right to come out of the bushes once she went where the fish were.  In this case, a high-end auto show.  

We mapped out the six bars closest to the convention center the attendees would most likely be drinking in, she boned up on her automotive knowledge (come to find out, her dad and a brother were engineers . . . coincidence?) and she prepared herself for an adventure by cranking up her Sex Rank a point before she went.  The goal was to meet dudes.  

A lot of women forget that.  They want a husband, and a father for their children, but they have been so focused on the intricacies of being a modern woman that they often know fuck-all about dudes.  I regularly counsel men who are in the early stages of a relationship to be careful not to ally themselves with women who are overly feminine, since I’ve witnessed several instances where these unions de-evolved into high-maintenance Beta slavery the moment the honeymoon lingerie was dry.  

A woman who has no real interest in a man’s world is unlikely to make a good wife . . . so developing some dude-related interests, or at least studying men and their ways, gives you a huge advantage over the women who simply get their hair done, shave their legs all the way up, push the girls into something tight and sexy, and hope that their sex appeal will be enough to attract a decent man.  

That can work . . . but knowing a little something about what guys like and how they think actually gets you a better chance at a mate, long-term, than going up a cup size.  No, really.  And that brings us to your biggest advantage.  One of my favorite quotes is “To know thyself is the ultimate form of aggression”.  Knowing your strengths and weaknesses, your desires and your goals, puts you far more in control of your reproductive destiny than the vapid blonde at the end of the bar in the shiny dress.  

Thing is, there are a LOT of pretty girls out there, and you have to be honest: they are your competition.  You are both going after the same guys, even if your motives and ultimate goals differ.  Knowing what you want gives you a big edge.  Knowing what dudes want gives you an even bigger edge.  Having realistic expectations about the way this story ends buffs that edge even more.  

I’d like to be able to tell you, in three or four paragraphs, exactly what every dude in the world wants in a woman, but that would be incorrect.  Men have their own agendas, goals, and preferences, and they vary as widely as women’s.  But there are a few broad generalizations that can be made, and while they seem a little on the remedial side, there are plenty of women out there who fuck up every date they’re on because they ignore some of these basics.

First – and foremost – a man is considering you as a sexual partner.  In your quest for romance and true love, you might conveniently forget that – but none of us did for a fucking moment.  Sex is important for men, perhaps the most important element of the relationship from our perspective.  

For women, sex is the affirmation of infatuation, the natural progression of physical intimacy after emotional and mental intimacy has been established – else, it’s strongly responsive in the heat of the moment.  Most dudes are hoping they can get you in the latter mood by exciting and stimulating you.  Either way, the man you are speaking to is thinking about his chances of fucking you, no matter what he says about your charm, wit, and taste in art.  He might consider you a pump-and-dump opportunity, or he might consider you a long-term humpy partner, but he’s definitely not thinking about whether or not you share a deep emotional connection or how you really feel about the fashion industry.

He wants to fuck you.  Use that.

Not to be mean , but remember that your sexuality is the best “bait” (and I have a few feminist readers who object to that term, but I’ll remind them that for the last 100,000 years, minus the most recent part, men used hunting as the metaphor for most of their activities – and finding quality pussy certainly qualifies) you have.  Not just your appearance, but your openness, your willingness to experiment, and your general attitude toward sex are all going to be factors in how strongly he will be attracted to you.  Showing some cleavage is nice – but it you don’t plan on putting out until you’re engaged, you’ve put yourself into the ‘longshot’ category.  

Unfair?  You betcha.  After all, shouldn't you get to know a guy before you sleep with him?

Of course.  Mostly.  But from his perspective, every moment he spends with you is going to revolve around that question, and if you give him the idea that the only way to get your legs open is with a life-long commitment or too many other hoops, then he’s going to bail on you.  Because there are a lot of pretty girls in the world, and for every one chick who wants to slow down and take her time and evaluate the relationship for a while, there are two chicks that will blow him in the parking lot or head back to his place to rock his world.  They might not even want him permanently, but they have what he wants, and if he has a choice between older pussy he has to work hard for and younger pussy that falls into his bed, he’s much more likely to chase after the latter.

You see, your sexuality is your best attractant, but thanks to feminism, someone dumped their bait in the water, and now sex is EVERYWHERE for a dude.  Sex without commitment, relationships or even last names.  If you have money, you can have sex.  If you have a modicum of Game, you can have sex.  In fact, the only thing stopping most dudes from having a lot more sex is their own willingness to Scalzi-out and pedestalize women to the extent that they become hopeless Beta (Delta) Orbiters.  That is, those dudes who just respect you too much to try anything . . . even if you really want them to.

But for the rest of the guys out there, pussy is still our primary source of inspiration and motivation.  If we think it’s immanent, we’re willing to put up with just about anything.  If we think it’s hopeless, then we find some way to move on to someone with whom it isn’t hopeless.  So the key is to keep him interested in you sexually until you have established whether or not he’s got a couple of hidden dealbreakers in his pocket.

After your sexuality, your personality is going to be your next biggest asset.  That is, a warm and giving personality is going to be more alluring to Mr. Right than a cold and distant bitch who looks like a million bucks.  Remember, the man you are looking for is also interested in a commitment – and as shallow as we dudes are, any man worth marrying is going to want to take a good hard look at your personality.  

What does that mean?  Laughing at his jokes and smiling and making eye contact are all good Girl Game, of course, but after that, what do you do to convince him that you’re good “wife material”?

Well, you might want to start thinking of yourself as such.

It’s amazing how many women think “strong and independent” is what men are looking for.  In point of fact, we only say that because that’s what we think you want to hear, but when we’re alone “strong and independent” usually translates to “ballbuster future ex-wife”, not “future mother of my children/romantic companion unto the end of my days”.  It’s not that we want you to be weak . . . we just want to see some vulnerability, some need for us in your life.  No man wants to be a woman’s unnecessary accessory, and unless he feels like you need him, he’s not going to be interested in more than your vagina.  

(Mrs. Ironwood did this, I realize in retrospect, by cooking for me on our 3rd date.  She already knew I loved to cook and was good at it, so she thought she’d honor me with a meal she cooked.  She made a valiant effort, but by dessert I knew with certainty that any future relationship with her would mean I would be cooking all of our meals – which was perfect.  I’d rather share my toothbrush than my kitchen.)


Apropos to that, don’t discuss your job more than you absolutely have to.  Women who are more engaged in their workplace social life than they are the rest of their lives rarely make ideal wives.  We know you have a job – in fact, it’s a red flag if you don’t.  But we don’t care how much money you make, what your title is, or what Rhonda and Carol said just last week when you complained there weren’t any decent men around.  Unless you both work in the same field, hearing you talk about work when you should be talking about us is another red flag.

Thanks to forty years of feminism, women have been conditioned to believe that men really do want “strong and independent” women, women who put success ahead of other considerations in their life.  They have spent their lives thinking of themselves as a profession or vocation, perhaps as a girlfriend, but hardly as a wife.

So ask yourself, ladies: just what do you have to offer a man as his wife?


That goes beyond your vagina and your high threadcount linens.  Think about what it means to be a wife.  Think about it good and hard.  Imagine what it meant to your grandmother, your mother, and you, and how that changed – and how it didn’t.  Remember that what you are getting is a husband, and that’s a different animal than a live-in boyfriend.  So what can you tell a man that will suggest that you would make a good wife?

Some hints: don’t mention how much you like to cook unless you’re willing to do all the cooking (remember, someone has to).  Don’t mention how much you like to shop unless you do it professionally. (It’s not that we’re anti-shopping, but I think we can all admit that the women who consider shopping a competitive sport have been the ruin of more than one man).    Don’t appear obsessed by celebrities, fashion, or reality television – we can appreciate your interest in them, but unless we’re deep in the closet we really could care less.  

Don’t mention your crazy ex(es).  No one wants to pick up a jealous stalker.  In fact, don’t mention any exes, especially if you’re still good friends with them.  We know you’ve probably had sex, and we’re wary of your “number”, but those kind of details can kill your chances with a guy if you’re too free with them.  If you spent a year just slutting out, you might not want to mention that up front, either.  Sure, he will want to know that, but that’s the sort of thing you discuss with your dude after he’s addicted to the way you give head.

The caveat to that is if you are asked about your “number”, then tell him.  We know you’re lying about it, we just want to hear you say it.  And if you don’t know it off the top of your head . . . red flag.  Nor is a high number death to all hopes of a relationship.  Some dudes mind a lot more than others, and some don’t mind at all.

Don’t talk about your pets.  Even if he asks, that isn’t a sign he’s into dressing up kitty cats like Star Trek characters, too – it’s a test.  If you show more interest in your pets than you do him, that’s a red flag.

DO talk about whether you want kids.  This is the biggest single dealbreaker on either side, and if you want a baby and he doesn't, then it's not going to work out.  Cut your losses and move on, no matter how hot he is. But the conventional wisdom that says "don't discuss children" on a date doesn't really apply at this age.  When you're a 20 year old guy, just about the last thing you want to hear on a date is "I want kids within the next six months!", which is just under "Y'know I'm a dude, right?" 

But a 40 year old man might also have a powerful biological itch to be scratched.  Believe it or not, your desire to have children may actually improve your subjective Sex Rank.  Or your decision not to have (any more) kids may be just what he's looking for.  This is one of the few points upon which you should be honest and upfront.  Fatherhood is a serious issue for guys, so don't play around with that.

Here's the thing: even if you don't want kids, a dude is still going to imagine what kind of mother you'd make, and that's going to profoundly feed his attraction to you.  While few of us expect to be "mothered" on a daily basis by our wives, there are indeed times in every man's life when his success or failure depends on the matronly emotional support his wife can muster.  If your wife can't comfort you and make you feel better when you don't feel well, it's not ideal.

It comes down to this: when a man is evaluating a woman for a relationship, he’s either looking for a) the mother of his children or b) the sex kitten of his dreams or c) All Of The Above.  They aren’t looking for an ambitious climber with a fat 401k, a leased luxury car and her own home.  

Think of them as the traditional Manosphere “Alpha/Beta” mix: you want to demonstrate your “Beta” skills as potential wife and mother, while simultaneously hinting at your “Alpha” skills, that is, your sexuality and social adeptness.  And yes, a decent guy is going to want both, even if he doesn’t want kids.  If you aren’t willing to compromise on that . . . well, don’t expect him to put a ring on it.  Or even call you again.  “He’s just not that into you” is often code for “nice ass, but she was a bitch to the busboy” or “she was friendly enough, but she hasn't had sex in two years and I need someone hornier than that in my life.”

Yeah.  We're really like that.

Feminist propaganda to the contrary, men have all but given up lighthearted commitments anymore.  It's just too expensive.  That is, don’t expect to move in with a dude after six dates, the way you could back in the 1990s.  As men are starting to realize that they are gatekeepers of commitment, they’re also starting to realize that their commitment has value.  If you aren’t attractive, sexually available, and easy-to-get-along-with, then yeah, you’re going to have a hard time finding a husband.  And that’s before he’s had a chance to even look at your baggage.

Beyond that, do you have any notion what being a “wife” entails?  It’s not just what you’re called after the big party with the pretty dress.  Being a wife is a job description, and the best way to get the job is to make sure you have the credentials.  The whole “co-equal partnership” ideal is crap – husbands and wives who make their marriages work tend to be willing to compromise and watch each others’ backs, not jealously guard their individual prerogatives.  Being a wife is more than being an “official girlfriend”.  There are expectations and responsibilities tied up with being a wife.  If you aren’t willing to live up to those, then perhaps you should abandon your search.  

This is a true story: a man I know dumped an otherwise good prospect because she wasn’t willing to change her last name to his if they got married.  I knew both parties, and I knew that this was a Very Big Deal to the dude – he was an only child and the last of his line, and he felt that it was important for his wife and child to share his name.  He was trying to build a family, after all.

When the woman tearfully called me a few weeks later (she had apparently exhausted the patience of our other mutual friends) to complain, I gently pointed out that I’d known the man for a long time, and he’d always made that a dealbreaker.  She didn't think he was being serious . . . or that she could get him to change his mind.  She had established a career under her maiden name and didn’t wan the inconvenience of changing her name or even adding “Mrs.” to it – she thought it was a needless anachronistic atavism.  

He didn’t.  He thought it was a traditional sign of respect for his ancestors.  Family was important to him, whereas to her the wedding was the important part.  She didn’t want to be a “wife”, she wanted to be a “bride”.  She wanted the party and the attention and the feeling of success she’d get for finally landing a man . . . she didn’t really want the husband that comes with all of it.  In fact, when I asked her about her potential future with him, she didn’t have much to say after she told me everything she’d imagined about the exotic honeymoon.  She wanted to get married – she didn’t want to be married.

And when the dude and I talked about it, he pointed out that if she was unwilling to compromise on such a fundamental issue so important to him before the wedding, then she would be even less likely to compromise on issues important to them both after they were married.  He didn’t want a “strong and independent co-equal partner” he had to discuss and get approval for every move he makes, he wanted a wife.  While the latter can be a part of the former, those aren’t essential skills for a wife.

What?  You didn’t know being a wife involved a skillset?  Perhaps I’ll cover this in a future post.  

So if you’re in the neighborhood of 40 and you find yourself single, ladies, it’s not the end of the world.  It’s a challenge.  A big one.  Finding a decent man now is going to be hard, much harder than when you were younger, prettier, and skinnier, but most of your Girl Game relies on what’s going on in your head, not your bra.  If you can shake your own mind around a bit and get out of the self-made traps that sabotage your efforts, then you have a fighting chance to dramatically improve your odds of being Mrs. Charming some day.

It’s not a sure thing . . . but then again, what is?  The only way you can really lose is by giving up.  Hell, even romance novels know that much.


The Real "Happily Ever After"


It’s rare that I run across anything Red Pill friendly over at HuffPo, but  the other day I came across a very telling post from a blogger, Martha Lyles.  She is essentially writing a letter to herself, from her modern perspective as a wife and mother and grandmother to the 20 year old woman she was, who was so excited about her Big Party.  Ironically, this was in the “Religion” section, not the “Women”, “Weddings” or “Divorce” sections (and note there is no “Men” section...and the Democrats wonder why more men don't vote for them...) It’s entitled “Letter To A Young Bride After 43 Years Of Marriage”, and it’s a wonderful retrospective on her marriage (as opposed to her “wedding”).


 I’ll let you read the whole thing – it’s quite poignant – but there is one quote I want to hone in on:

“...The same goes for being a wife. You'll marvel at Dick's unswerving commitment. You'll learn to put him first and -- believe it or not -- you'll delight in doing so. You'll see your role as his helpmate and cheerleader. You'll pack his bags for business trips, tucking love notes under ties. You'll view all the joys in your life as gifts from above, like the six wide-eyed, rosy-cheeked grandkids who clamor for your cookies and your kisses. And you'll sense, time and again, the grace conferred in your wedding Mass sustaining you as husband and wife.”

Religious sentiment aside for a moment, consider the perspective: “You’ll learn to put him first and – believe it or not – you’ll delight in doing so.”

This is not, as you might think, a “see, I toldya so!” about male dominance in a relationship.  This is a “see, I toldya so!” about how you don’t get divorced.

It's also a glimpse into the real, Red Pill reality of Happily Ever After (HEA), the romantic nirvana that inspires romance novels, mommy porn, and soap operas.


When you want to study how to do something, the two areas you focus on are “successes” (to establish a base-line metric) and “failures” (to determine how deviations from protocol derail successes).  Athol spent a considerable time in marriage forums preparing for his book, and if you have to then you can see how learning from other people's failures can be valuable for avoiding hasty divorce.  However, if you want to know how to keep your marriage going, it's a good idea to not just focus on the failures but spend some time looking at successes to inform your marital toolkit.

After all, what is a “successful marriage”?  Certainly, one in which you aren’t getting divorced has to be held as a basic standard.  That doesn’t mean that your marriage is a success if you aren’t divorced, it just means that it’s “failing”, not “failed”.

When women in their youth begin to form their True Love inspired Happily Ever After fantasy, it rarely includes things like packing suitcases for their husband’s business trips or struggling through childbirth alone while your husband is on deployment.  Or the ugly reality that is early childhood development.  For many modern young women, the idea of “having kids” is so abstract and glamorized and sanitized for them by our culture that they don't understand the level of involvement necessary to keep them from becoming willfully ignorant drains on society.



To young women today, it's as if children were a status symbol, not a new life, merely an option like a new car with leather interior, and not a life-long personal commitment.  They are allured by the feminist ideal of “equality” and "equal opportunity", which means that they see family and children (and eventual divorce and remarriage) as part of the expected checklist -- and their dedication to "equality" means they expect that whatever poor Beta chump they marry will handle all the details.  (Or, conversely, that she will marry well enough to have servants to care for them like her favorite celebs.)  "Happily Ever After" is a gauzy  vague cloud of ill-defined bliss that follows the Honeymoon to them, the natural and inevitable conclusion to "True Love".

But True Love, Red Pill style implies a host of boring, mundane, petty little compromises that do little to empower you as a woman or see you reach “your full potential” in the feminist sense.  I recently read another screed at HuffPo (not important enough to hunt down the quote) about how Michelle Obama shouldn’t have said “Being a Mother is my most important job”, because that put too much pressure on everyone to reproduce and emphasize their children over their career elements.   She offered instead “Being a Woman is my most important job”, with motherhood and relationships and such secondary to her solipsistic “all about me” perspective.  She didn’t even mention a husband, except as an annoyance that got in her way.  Motherhood, to feminism, is a bother, a needless distraction away from the self-indulgent achievement-based Matrix climb for fame, cash and prizes. 

And the term “wife” is anathema to feminists.  When a feminist reflexively uses the term, it’s almost apologetic.  “Husband” is often used with a proud sense of ownership, like she just got a great lease on a car, but a feminist woman rarely describes herself as a “wife” unless she’s in trouble.  And a feminist has very little, if any, ideological instruction on being a wife save how to end the practice.   Feminism celebrates divorce and punishes success when it comes to marriage.

Now, if you’re a long-term carousel rider with a fat trust fund, then sure, a string of wealthy ex-husbands while you assert your feminist privilege doesn’t hurt anyone but those poor chumps.  Such childless, often sexless unions in the UMC have been a social bloodsport for decades.  But once you start getting kids involved, shit gets real.  You aren’t just splitting up the CD collection when you divorce, you’re splitting up a family with people who depend on you, and that’s got jack to do with your self-important career goals.  The feminist approach to "family" in general is little better than their approach to "marriage".  Gentlemen, you are warned.

But back to the successes.  As I was saying, it’s important, if you want to avoid divorce, to study what goes right, as well as what goes wrong.  This wonderful article is by a woman with a 43 year track record willing to impart some cosmic wisdom on you, ladies.  Listen up.  This is what Happily Ever After looks like, not three ex-husbands and a lonely condo full of cats in Miami.

Feminists can often manage to get married . . . they can rarely manage to stay married.  And very, very few can be said to be in "happy" marriages (marriages in which both parties can consistently say that they are happy with the way things are going).  And part of the reason has nothing to do with ideology -- it's because they don’t know how to be married.  In attempting to re-write the social rules of marriage, feminism's built-in escape hatch made the effort to work on a marriage a lot harder than ending it.  Feminists can become brides pretty easily, thanks to the power of pussy.  They can just as easily become ex-wives, with a stroke of a pen.  They rarely become "wives" (under the Rectification of Names).  So for all of their vaunted empowerment, it seems that feminism insists that an empowered feminist woman can do ANYTHING . . . except be a good wife.

That, of course, fuels hypergamy and divorce and other crap, but the plain fact is that feminism has rejected the Happily Ever After in favor of the EPL divorce, and now we have a nation of women bellyaching that they STILL aren't happy, despite getting everything their heart desired for 40 years.  They want their Happily Ever After, but they aren't willing to do the work required.  And Happily Ever After requires a lot of work.  Just ask Martha Lyles.

This woman was a wife.  She had a husband.  She didn’t have a co-equal partner in her relationship, she had a captain of her ship to whom she was loyal and respectful.  She did things for him that a feminist considers demeaning: packed his suitcase, quit school, ended her career aspirations for his benefit, raised his children, cooked his meals.  She deferred to him in important ways, and often in unimportant ways, not because the custom or religious rite demanded it, but because that’s how successful marriages work.

She doesn't write about the sacrifices her husband may have made -- that's his story, not hers.  She doesn't write about how hard it was and how regretful she is of her missed opportunities.  She writes of the sacrifices of a woman in her marriage, but she also writes of the rewards.  The Happily Ever After.  Grandchildren, a big happy family, and a great husband she adores and looks up to.  And she doesn’t just mention he’s a “great husband”, she describes an important attribute of his greatness in his devotion and thoroughness in helping her fight cancer.  No mere domineering chauvinist is likely to do that.  He repaid her sacrifice and devotion with his loyalty and steadfastness, not merely providing practical support during her struggle, but being her unwavering rock to which she clung as she wrestled with her own mortality.


Any of your weak-willed Beta future ex- husbands going to do that, feminists?  Good luck.

The important thing to take away from this success story is simple: the author was not merely extolling the virtues of marriage, but she was demonstrating the necessary dedication to fulfilling Happily Ever After.

You don’t ever plan to get cancer in Happily Ever After.  But you do get a strong and resilient Prince Charming willing to stand over your wounded body with a sword, keeping the monsters at bay.  You don’t imagine that you’ll get piles of diapers and bills and bad report cards and problem children in Happily Ever After.  But you do get a strong, disciplined father to keep order and enforce policy among your children until they can do it on their own.  You might conceivably envision grandchildren in your Happily Ever After, sitting around rosy-cheeked and respectful of you.  But you probably don’t understand how to get to that point – and truly appreciate it – because you have to first raise your own brood to adulthood and steer them toward their own productive relationship before you get rosy-cheeked grandbabies.

 For those feminists who feel they can have a “co-equal partnership” with a man, while secretly exerting feminine privilege as a means of manipulating and controlling your husband until you lose all respect and desire for him, you are forever denied this Happily Ever After.  Because you refuse to do the work and be a wife to your husband.  You get the EPL version, in which you marry a billionaire after spending your ex-husband’s money on eating, praying, and loving.  Oh, and good luck with that billionaire – I hear there are simply scads of them around.

(Or was that cats?)

But it's not just a bust for single feminist career gals.  It works both ways.

For those men who have eschewed the possibility of marriage in the pursuit of a permanent ticket to the Puerarchy, letting your bad experiences and fear of rejection give you a rationalization why you shouldn’t be required to invest in a 50-50 shot at success, please believe me when I tell you sincerely that I appreciate your willingness to Go Your Own Way.  But you, too, are exempt from this Happily Ever After.  In truth, you may change your mind at some point, when you are older and your perspectives change.  Our sperm is viable into our 70s, and a mid-life family has a lot of advantages.  But if you are committed to being uncommitted to a woman, then expect a long, slow decline with fewer friends alive every year, until you are alone, babbling incoherently to robots in some distant future retirement community.


Marriage is by no means for everyone.  But it is not, as some would contend, not for anyone.  It’s a trade-off, an exchange of commitments and obligations and sacrifices and dedications and courtesies and fears and delights and secrets and trusts and weaknesses and power and – yes – financial considerations and sex, and if you are not prepared to indulge in that kind of personal commitment and dedication (and few 20 year olds of this generation are) then I encourage you to avoid the issue entirely.  Believe me, it will take the pressure off to not have to worry about marriage and family.

So put “Happily Ever After” away in your mind not as "mythical" but merely as forever out of reach.  Substitute some government-subsidized retirement plan at a tropical resort where you’ll expire on the golf course or in your sleep . . . alone.  Imagine a world in which you are by yourself at age 50 and the doctor mentions cancer and you realize that since your sister died you have no one in the world to call and talk to about it.  That’s the "swinging single" alternative to Happily Ever After.  When you’re writing up your last will and testament, and you realize that everything you own and collected and cared for will go to your niece in nephew who live in another state and who might pass you in the grocery store without recognizing you, that’s what you get when you’ve lost Happily Ever After.  The real Happily Ever After.

Because Happily Ever After doesn’t mean a blissful paradise of champagne and strawberries and anniversary dinners in four-star restaurants.  It doesn’t mean kinky hotel sex and romantic walks on the beach as a matter of course.  There are few diamonds in for-real HEA.  You want the truth?  Happily Ever After can be brutal, as anyone’s life can be brutal.  But Happily Ever After softens the brutality with a thick protective layer of humanity, wherein the love you pledged at the altar has grown between the two of you and expanded and transformed until it supports a web of such love that echoes across generations. 

When you’re surrounded by your wife and your children and their spouses, all deeply concerned about your well-being and quality of life when your body betrays you, that’s Happily Ever After.

When your sons, grown men all, and your grandsons drop everything in their busy lives to rush to your bedside and then spring into action to build a wheelchair ramp you didn’t think you’d need, that’s Happily Ever After.

When your daughter-in-law enlists the aid of experts and researches the furthest reaches of medical science on your behalf, motivated by love and pure, unadulterated respect for the only father she has left, that’s Happily Ever After.

When an entire community floods your house with calls assuring their support, based on their deep respect for who you are and what you’ve done to touch their lives, that’s Happily Ever After.

When your wife holds your hand and cries so you won’t have to when you tell the doctor to go ahead and take the leg, that’s Happily Ever After.


This month, Papa Ironwood got an up close and personal look at the stark nature of Happily Ever After . . . and compared to the alternative, he considers himself a very blessed man.  I think it made the decades of sacrifice and effort and toil to keep his marriage and his family a going concern worthwhile.  Whether or not you agree with him, well, let's just say that he's got the benefit of experience to support his position.

But then, he's always been wiser than the rest of us.  He wanted Happily Ever After . . . so he built it for his wife and kids, one hug, one kiss, one drop of sweat and one tear at a time.
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