Showing posts with label girl game. Show all posts
Showing posts with label girl game. Show all posts

Monday, April 14, 2014

Anatomy Of A Darn Good Personal Ad

Ladies, if you're wondering why your online dating ads aren't getting any traction, perhaps it's because you are a) unrealistic and b) unwilling to "settle" for less than you are "worth".

When the Wall finally does smack you in the ass in a way you cannot ignore, Nature will decide which of you are pragmatic enough to re-frame your idea of Happily Ever After (HEA).  Case in point is this gem I found locally.  This is adept Girl Game, Single Girl Edition.  Her ad is short, sweet, to-the-point, and is awash with refreshing candor:

Creative Glamour Girl Seeks Hot Nerd 
age : 30I have many fancy degrees in the artistic / liberal arts field. In other words, I am a low paid individual with not a very bright future on my own. 
I am seeking a boyfriend who can provide stability. I can plan and carry out dinner parties for your friends and family, escort you to events, provide sex, cooking and other domestic chores. And maybe even needlepoint a pillow for your mom. 
I am white, 5'4, in shape. Only interested in attractive white men under 40 who are in shape and disease-free.

Why is this ad so effective?  First, she introduces the fact that she has a) a liberal arts education and b) a low paying job.  Then she dismisses all of her career accomplishments, an unusual and refreshing tactic, to focus on her vulnerability and growing desperation.  She adds "not a very bright future", the implication being she needs help. Damsel in distress, sure, but she's doing something about it.  

But instead of wildly demanding a list of what she expects in a man and a relationship, she humbly and forthrightly lists the feminine comforts and advantages she would bring to the table.  Not her degree, not her job title, not her romantic nature and predilection for long walks on the beach, she keeps it short, sweet, and simple.  

She's not even looking for a husband or "that certain special someone" - she understands the commitment issues most men have, and doesn't push for anything beyond "boyfriend".  That's not scary to an average man, but it's also not going to cause a serious minded individual from excluding her.  She's clearly looking for a long term relationship, but she's not demanding one.  All she wants is stability.

Then she lays out what she's willing to do, what she brings to the table:

Party planning and entertainment (social augmentation, important for nerds)
Sex (she lays it out there right up front, no equivocation about "if things feel right")
Cooking (!)
Other Domestic Chores

. . . and then the "needlepoint a pillow for your mom" puts her in the Very Special Category.  She understands family, she understands filial obligation, and she understands how a man's relationship with his mother presages his relationship with his wife.  And she's willing to facilitate that, if not cater to it.  That's Future Wife Gold, there, fellas.

She could have said a lot of other things, elaborated on what she wanted or what else she could bring, but she clearly understands what her future holds without the rose-covered glasses feminism hands out.  She's ready to plant a flag, and while she's clearly looking for a good Beta, she also presents herself as a woman who might be worthy of the reward of stability for her candor.

 But everyone should take a lesson from this: femininity attracts masculinity.  Period.  I don't care if this woman is overweight and $50k in debt, this ad alone demonstrates that she's got the kind of pragmatic character and social adpetness that could propel a good nerd far.  While there are no guarantees, and I haven't seen the fine print, she's at least worthy of consideration if you're the kind of man looking to settle down.

Interested parties contact me, I'll put you in touch. She wants a face pic and a little about yourself.  She lives in the central North Carolina region.  If she's a real local (I don't know yet) she could be a real Southern Belle prize for a lucky Red Pill dude.  I'll keep you posted.

Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Girl Game: Issue A Challenge

I've taken a good chunk of the summer off from the blog to write and conduct Field Work, and I'll be getting back to regular posts shortly.  Until then, here's a little something I've been working on I thought y'all might get something out of.  It's another Girl Game post, but it's equally useful for men to use on women, slightly tweaked for gender differences.

One of my long-time readers came to me with a problem: after working with her husband to overcome some BETA issues and ALPHA him up a bit to generally good effect, the dude back-slid after an argument into nearly full Blue Pill BETA supplicant mode, much to her dismay and mild disgust.  But as she is committed to the relationship, she wanted to know how to repair that damage.

So I discussed it with Mrs. Ironwood for a while and she pointed out that it can be difficult to be assertive from a submissive position without coming across as the typical "bossy bottom" (a term borrowed from Lambdaworld to describe the submissive partner in the relationship who is actually in charge, usually through a multitude of passive-aggressive and emotionally manipulative actions).   No one likes a bossy bottom.

But that doesn't mean a wife is powerless to affect change in a nascent Red Pill relationship, nor is she automatically at the mercy of her husband's whim.  When a Red Pill husband accidentally shifts into reverse, a Red Pill wife has a chance to give him a way back, if she is bold enough.  You don't do that by bitching, nagging, whining, or pleading.  You do that by issuing a challenge.

Just like a woman in a relationship can impel a man toward the Red Pill and a more dominant presentation by Extending an Invitation, when a Red Pill dude really screws up, instead of letting him twist in the wind while he figures out where he went wrong, it is often in a wife's best interest to forget the issue that started the argument/crisis and focus on building a way to repair it.  You do that by Issuing a Challenge.

Now, every man wants to feel like a heroic knight in shining armor in his relationship, and while that implies plenty of dreary damsel rescuage, it also implies a dedication to a quasi-mystical quest.  So when things are amiss in the usual ALPHA-BETA, Male/Female equation to the point where your dude starts whining or moping instead of manfully handling his business, not only do you as a Red Pill wife and First Officer have a responsibility to the ship to point it out in a respectful way, but you have an agency to restore that equilibrium.

Just as you can Extend an Invitation to give him a nudge in the right direction, creating the space to impel him toward a more ALPHA presentation, when he fucks up you can give him a way back by Issuing A Challenge.

Now, you have to be careful about this, because it has the possibility of blowing up on you if you aren't.  You must make your dude understand that this isn't just an ordinary hysterical shit-test, it's a very deliberate and calculated Shit Test.  Indeed, it isn't a classical Shit Test by virtue of its restorative power.  Traditionally, by acceeding to the Shit Test you lose no matter what: even if you do what she wants, she loses respect for you for caving in when you really should have stood your ground.

Issuing a Challenge is more involved.  First, it should be well-established just WHY you are issuing the challenge in the first place.  Let's pretend, for example, that Mrs. Ironwood and I had a fight, and instead of being all ALPHA like she wants me to be, I cave in and go into obsequious BETA mode until she's ready to strangle me.  The first part of Issuing the Challenge revolves around identifying the behavior you wish to correct.

"Ian, you're being a spineless bastard.  I'm sick of this BETA attitude of yours, and I'm calling a flag on that play."  Okay, so she really wouldn't talk like that, but I've reduced a twenty-minute conversation to the headline.  "I really don't feel as attracted to you when you're like this, and I'm not happy about it."  She doesn't need to add the insulting "Man Up!" because that's, well, insulting when it comes from a woman.  "I'm not happy about it" is sufficient to demonstrate the limits of his behavior.

Second, once you've established WHY, you need to establish HOW.  "Ian, I know you didn't mean to go all Blue Pill Beta on me, so I'm going to assume you just had a bad day and got sand in your panties.  However, you did hurt my feelings, and yeah, I'm a woman, so that's important.  I need to feel like you're in charge again, or we're going to start fighting again.  So . . . I'm going to give you a week to think about it, and while you're thinking, perhaps you could do something to demonstrate both your contrition at being a pussy and your devotion to your own masculinity.  If you can't come up with something creative in a week . . . well, let's not dwell on such an unpleasant possibility."

(Again, severely reducing the convo.)

When setting the goal of the Quest, it is important to keep it a) achievable and b) challenging.  I'm a writer.  If Mrs. I challenged me to write . . . well, pretty much anything, that wouldn't be much challenge.  The English language is my bitch.  I've written everything from menus to major novels.  Poetry?  In my sleep.

But if she challenged me to, say, sing her a song in front of a crowd that would stretch my meager vocal talent to the limit . . . and be an impressive feat if I could actually follow up on it with less than four beers in me.

Don't make the Quest about tangible gain or reward ("I want an emerald bracelet!") because that is both unimaginative and ignoble; the point of the exercise is to get your dude's creative juices flowing in a positive direction. You want to inspire him, not discourage him.  Reducing the challenge to his ability to shell out cash is banal and pointless.  "I want an emerald bracelet . . . that you design and build yourself, down to mining and cutting the gemstones" is an achievable and challenging goal.

A week and a Quest, as well as some parameters: both manly AND contrite.  And, I know up front, the more it references my devotion to her and my family, the crazier the reward when I'm done.  The woman issuing the challenge must understand that the juice has to be worth the squeeze, i.e. Herculean effort deserves Dionysian reward.  If you're gonna be ballsy enough to issue a challenge to your man, you'd better be woman enough to fulfill the reward appropriately.

Once you've established What you want changed, and given him some idea of How you'd like to see it . . . step back.  Don't harp on it.  If possible, do something or establish something that is a visible, silent reminder of the challenge, but don't mention it again.  The Mission has been given.  The Quest has begun.  The Challenge has been issued.  A simple reminder, a token of that ongoing mission, is helpful to keep the matter present in both of your minds without it becoming a point of contention.

To that end, don't let him talk about it with you.  That spoils it.  Part of the magic of this is that after you have set the parameters, your biggest role in this should be that of observer and audience.  You've given him an opportunity, now it is up to his masculine whiles to fulfill it.  If he consults with you, asks your advice, etc. then he's falling prey to Solomon's Dilemma, and you should politely feign not understanding what the hell he's talking about.  If he needs clarification, that's one thing, but the point of the exercise is to give him an opportunity to impress you, and if you're holding his hand the whole way, that ain't gonna happen.  The token should be enough reminder of what he needs to do.

Then give him a while.  It might be a long while.  You might find it hard to cultivate patience.  But don't give up hope, not until he admits defeat.  That should be a crushing blow to his ego, and if he truly cannot rise to your challenge after giving it his best, then either the challenge was too hard or the man was too soft.  Re-think it, re-issue it, and give him another shot.

The goal here isn't to make your dude into a limp-diked Beta.  The goal is to give him something tangible to aspire to, a quest to perform, a mission to accomplish.

Here's an example: A few years ago, Mrs. Ironwood was standing in front of her highly-disorganized closet trying to get ready for work, and despite the cubic miles of fine textiles on display for her, she declared that she couldn't find anything to wear . . . and blamed her shitty closet.

"I would give just about anything to have a decent closet!" she declared.

"Anything?" my penis asked.

"What do you think?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.  It was a casual mention, and she briefly told me what her ideal would be like, but that was the extent of her direction.

Challenge accepted.

I let her forget about the conversation for a few weeks, made some secret sketches and preparations, and then the next time she went out of town on business I descended on Lowe's like an avenging horde.  I put all three kids to work, and spent all weekend completely gutting and redesigning her closet.  There was a light inside, a shoe rack, three tiers of clothes racks (one full one for dresses, two demis for tops and pants), lingerie drawer, baskets for dry-clean only and delicates, hooks for bras, the works.  I didn't have to tear out any walls or doors, but when she got home for the reveal, well, she was impressed.

Impressed enough to do Anything.

At the time it wasn't a conscious thing, but the whole idea of issuing challenges became a part of our marital culture.  Most recently, as Mrs. Ironwood has taken up her new role as stay-at-home-wife-and-mother (!), I've turned the tables on her a bit, issuing a few challenges of my own.

She's been doing almost all of the cooking, which is a HUGE departure for us both.  I've been cooking for twenty years, and approach the subject as an art.  She's far more literal, has little natural talent or intuition with cooking, and approaches the matter as a science.  So asking her to cook anything is a Big Deal.

But I wanted to encourage her pursuit, as reluctant as she was, without being either condescending (which would sap her confidence) or preachy (which would piss her off).  She's done magnificently, thus far, and can now turn an omelette as well as the children.  But I wanted to give her something a little more confidence-building than bacon-and-eggs.  So I issued her a Challenge.

I didn't expect a quick turn-around, but since our anniversary (22 years) rolled around August 1, she decided to act on it.  My challenge was for her to cook me lumpias, a kind of Filipino fried egg-roll I became enamored with, due to a strange series of circumstances involving moonshine and a huge cast-iron kettle and a cute little Filipino woman, back in the mists of time.  I've only had them a half-dozen times, but they're exquisite.  Papa Ironwood still recalls his first experience with them at Subic Bay fondly after 40 years, although he never fails to mention that the ones he tried likely had monkey meat instead of pork.

If you've never had them, they're a treat.  They're somewhat like traditional Chinese egg rolls, but instead of a lot of cabbage or bok choy, lumpias are often made with pork and sweet potatoes or carrots.  It's not a difficult dish, exactly, but it is time-consuming, takes a lot of prep work, and involves a deep fryer.  It was, in other words, a worthy Challenge to my wife's nascent cooking abilities.

She surprised me Anniversary night when I got home with a whole assembly-line of lumpias.  I hadn't given her more than "I'd really love it if you'd learn how to make lumpias", and she ran with it.  And yes, I was impressed, so impressed that I broke out the Third Anniversary Present that night, made us both cry, and proceeded to the more sweaty and sticky portion of the evening.

Ladies, if your dude is lagging, then consider Issuing him a Challenge.  It's an opportunity for him to impress you, surprise you, delight you and astound you . . . without you chewing him out for screwing anything up.  It gives him the opportunity to demonstrate his competence and ingenuity.  And it gives him a tangible, achievable goal toward which to work.  And sometimes that's all we need to get us out of our own heads.

Friday, April 5, 2013

Girl Game: Stalking the Wild Sigma

Vox had a commenter who expressed a deep interest in Sigmas, bucking the Alpha trend.  I approve, of course, being a Sigma who has learned to present Alpha when I want.  It gives me some insight on the subject.  Sigmas are not rare in the wild, but they are uncommon.  And they are uncommonly intriguing mates.  Some have expressed that Sigmas are a kind of mythical unicorn.

But Sigmas aren't unicorns.  They're centaurs.

Sigmas are a mystery by design, and in their immature form can resemble hapless Betas, misguided Gammas, or even a desperate Omega, for short periods of time.  That is because they don't come by social skills naturally, they usually have to observe and consciously integrate them.  Especially about sex.  The immature Sigma can stumble and flail wildly with this subject in his early years because he hasn't yet discovered a comprehensive set of instructions on how to properly dip his wick (i.e. Game), but the desire to do so is very much there.

Hence the centaur.

The centaur represents the cthonic combination of the primal strength and majesty of the horse with the manual dexterity, intelligence and reason of a man.  In mythology, centaurs were either rapacious beasts or wise counselors, or some combination of the two.  That's a Sigma: incredible passion and incredible intellect.  In an immature Sigma, the Beast often rules, to disastrous result.  As the Sigma matures, however, he tames his passion with reason, intellect, skill and education, essentially harnessing the beast to his command.  A Sigma who develops self-mastery transforms from a clumsy, earnest, and often-misunderstood young man into a powerful and versatile mature man.  And that versatility is key.

Mature Sigmas can develop the ability of inserting themselves into any social situation and find the place where their skills and abilities will do the most good.  If there is no better leader available, a Sigma can display very strong Alpha characteristics.  If a more-natural leader is available, a Sigma is content to fade back and advise in Beta mode, rather than contend for leadership.  If there are leaders aplenty, then the Sigma will often step up as a mediator and negotiator.  And if things are running smoothly, a Sigma is often
content to accept a very minor role, but one which affords him an opportunity to still have subtle influence and a wide field of observation.

He is not afraid to use deception and misdirection, and his subtlety is often mistaken for passive-aggression by those unfamiliar with his methods.  He can even mimic a Gamma Rabbit or uber-pathetic Omega, if it suits his purposes

The good news?  If you catch them young and care for them properly, a mature Sigma also has the capability of morphing into an extremely powerful Wolf Alpha or Bear Alpha (though rarely a Bull Alpha) with the right woman.  Some of the most devoted family men I know are Sigmas-cum-Alphas.  When a Sigma sets his mind to do something, he often submerges himself in it . . . and if you can get him to do that with wife and family, its as good as hitting the Dude Lotto.

Sigmas are the Gandalfs, the Merlins, the Spocks.  They are the men of skill and quiet, men of deep thought and calculation who seek not their own aggrandizement (although they have powerful egos) but the prosperity and success of themselves and those around them.  A Sigma who has mastered himself often turns toward using his talents to a greater goal, inspiring people with his passion and persuading them with his reason.

Mature Sigmas like to get things done . . . by getting other people to do them.  Enthusiastically.

The best places to find the immature Sigma in the wild often revolve around obscure and esoteric subjects, such as origami, comic books, robotics, technology, science, art, history, gaming, music, etc.  All of the great disciplines of Nerdology.  Sigmas are slow to commit, but once they do they tend to go all-in.  They often seem petty or shallow at first, as they test and probe and try to figure you out.  Don't let it shake you.  They're watching everything you do with the calculating mind of a supercomputer.  Sigmas tend to prefer women who don't get rattled easily and who are not high maintenance, so displaying either of these will get you dropped.

Sigmas like to think their way out of problems.  If one suddenly appears at your elbow, and you're interested and want to hook him, a woman's best counter-line is to propose a challenge involving skill or intelligence, and promise an increase in intimacy as a result.  Be ultra-cautious with your presentation at first, as Sigmas tend to be skittish and will often bolt if they feel things aren't going well (it's a cost-benefit analysis sort of thing, don't take it personally).

But don't rely exclusively on your mind to intrigue him - don't forget that big smelly beast with the eighteen-inch equine phallus lurking under the brainy exterior.  Sigmas are calculating opportunists.  If you extend an invitation he can accept, he'll be on like a pot of neckbones.  Or just show him some boob.  Sometimes we're that easy.

A woman must be willing to tolerate some idiosyncratic behavior from a Sigma, sometimes bordering on the neurotic.  Luckily it's rarely dangerous or unhealthy - more "quirky" or "eccentric".

Sigmas get bored easily in relationships, so if you are not up to near-constant intellectual challenge, you might want to find a nice Beta who likes sports.  Keeping him intellectually stimulated is as important as keeping him erotically stimulated, or he can lose interest.  If you can combine the two, so much the better.  Many Sigmas are secret freaks in the bedroom, expressing their lustful passions with intense intellectual vigor.

What kind of woman is a Sigma seeking?  While that varies greatly, in general a Sigma wants a trustworthy companion, an intriguing and inventive playmate, an intellectual equal willing to debate him passionately without taking it personally, a woman who is capable of being self-sufficient but who sees the advantages of a union and is not afraid of making that case.  Sigmas are wary of entanglements, but appreciate a straightforward proposition despite their enjoyment of subtlety.  Sigmas may marry late, and often vet a woman far beyond what a normal Alpha or Beta will.

The wife of a Sigma should be understanding of his peculiarities and appreciate them as features, not bugs.  Trying to change a Sigma around the way you want him is an effort doomed to failure.  You might think you got what you want, but more than likely he's fooling you.  Sigmas often attract attention from other females without realizing it - if they don't know Game, then they don't often recognize clear IoI's.  A woman who marries a Sigma should be prepared to mate-guard as needed, but with the understanding that (if he's happy in the sexual end of things) he likely has little interest in pursuing an affair.

Emotionally, Sigmas can seem very distant . . . but when they do open up and connect, they do so unreservedly and sometimes overwhelmingly.  They use humor and misdirection and verbal wittiness to maneuver their ways through social situations, and can often appear very charming and confident.

Remember that Sigmas are adept at masks, and the truth is under that mask there is a beast and a man.

Cater to both, and you can ride him off into the sunset.

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Breaking Beta: The Boob Test

If there is any better demonstration that the Red Pill isn’t blanket misogyny and unreasonable expectations, it’s the HUGE number of female readers I seem to have developed.  These women are eager to hear what I have to say about the male psyche and appreciate my observations about the female psyche.  More importantly, they want something that would seem a no-brainer for most American women, but something that has been dropped on the list of feminine priorities: good, solid, dependable relationships that are sexually and emotionally fulfilling with decent, strong, masculine men who aren’t afraid of their own masculinity . . . or of femininity.

That last part is the problem.  The Betacization of the American Male is a historical fact, as is the abuse of the Betas by (often feminist-leaning) women in the SMP, not to mention the hue and cry over the lack of “good” men for American women to mate with.  Even seemingly-stable, secure, all-American marriages can and do disintegrate all the time, thanks to the chasm between the expectations and fulfillment of both genders.  My previous post, You’re Just Going Through A Stage, elicited a lot of email.  Some from women who are going through just this issue, and some from men and younger women who see it as the horror it is.

So the question arises: "if I’m married to a Perfectly Decent Beta Dude, how do I unlock the hidden Alpha beast-man-with-a-heart-of-gold I yearn for?  Realistically, that is."

And that’s a good question . . . in fact, it is one of the most pressing questions in the Manosphere.  Because the Gen Xers who were the first bitter products of divorce are hitting 40, and a lot of them didn’t get married, got married and then divorced, or are in unhappy marriages headed for divorce, and if these dudes don’t get their act together now, then more trouble is inevitable. 

So how do you . . . de-domesticate your dude?

We’re not talking total reversal, here – you don’t want to drive him to quit his job, by a Harley and hustle pool for a living or anything.  You just want some sharp edges, some excitement, some command presence, some . . . ALPHA.  You want to look at his face and see a far-off gaze as he hears the call of the wild, and then the warm grin he gets when he looks back at you and says something saucy about your boobs.  You want to see him stiffen up and prepare for action when he sees danger, not quietly drag you away by the elbow.  You want to come home from work and discover that he’s booked plane tickets to Cabo as a surprise, or that he’s cooked a five-course Chinese meal for the two of you, or he’s rented a convertible for the weekend and wants to have a picnic in another state.  You want to see him take initiative, step up, lead, command, BE A MAN, all of those wonderfully romantic, undeniably ALPHA things that make your nipples hard and your naughty parts tremble.

Only . . . he’s still just Bob.

Oh, we all know, Bob is great – actually, Bob is good.  Perfectly good . . . but not quite great.  If he was great, you wouldn’t be here, you’d be thinking naughty thoughts about Bob, but you aren’t.  Bob is your husband, and that fact alone makes him . . . boring.  And if you think he’s boring now, then just wait 10 years.  Only you won’t, maybe.  Maybe you’ll say “I’m not haaaapy” or “I don’t feel appreciated” and then dump poor ol’ Bob. 

Thing is, Bob is the way he is – uber-Beta – because that’s what you’ve taught him you want him to be.  Especially if you have children, you likely have sanded as much of his rough edges off as possible, to make him a better and more dependable dad.  You both have gotten into patterns that have calcified into habits that are turning into customs which are well on their way to being traditions . . . and they aren’t the kind of life either one of you envisioned or, perhaps, even really wanted.

Oh, it’s probably pretty good on paper, despite the struggle.  There have always been issues.  But you’ve solved them – or, at least, you (singular) have solved them, and your husband has quietly agreed with your leadership.  Because it’s more trouble to agree with you and not piss you off than to put up with a fight and no sex over something stupid, in his mind.

But now, how do you get Bob out of his well-worn place and get him to show enough Alpha so that you aren’t dreaming of exotic and muscular strangers on tropical beaches when you make love?

I’ve said it can be done, and it can.  But I’ve never said it would be easy, and it isn’t.  At least not usually.

If a woman wants to break her husband’s Beta, she has to first face some uncomfortable truths about herself, women, men, and relationships; then she has to evaluate herself and her husband objectively, without emotional context, according to masculine (not feminine) standards.  Then she has to discover a way to inspire/ignite/incite him toward his Alpha without actually leading him there, supporting him when he falters and be willing to “suffer” a little before she gets what she wants.

And what she wants, she might discover, might not be as good as what she actually gets.

Ever wonder why divorced men do so well after a divorce?  If the psychological pressure doesn’t kill him or ruin him, then a man is forced to get more Alpha as a survival and mating tool after a divorce.  His old life, the life he thought he’d been building, is gone, and in his mind he’s in his teens again, trying to prove himself and attract the eye of a pretty girl.  So he works out, learns a modicum of Game, and in this target-rich environment he doesn’t usually have to wait around long to find another woman who’s perfectly willing to accept his baggage in exchange for his renewed lust, proven ability to provide, and resurgent, re-discovered Alpha. 

If you want to get that kind of effect without a divorce, that’s going to be tricky . . . but a lot cheaper.  How do you get your husband to be the kind of man that will excite you and lead you and make you want to follow him . . . anywhere?

You get him to stop being the man he is, and become someone else.

In divorce, that’s easy: he was your husband, now he’s your ex-husband.  Poof!  Instant transformation, human soul sold separately.  But if you want him to start out as your husband and still be your husband when you’re done, then don’t change his title and position – change the man.

But “Men don’t change”, I’ve heard that a thousand times this year alone.  The fact is we do change, all the time, and some of us are capable of quite profound changes . . . if we feel inspired enough to make the effort. 

Now, of course, you’re wondering “so . . . am I just not worth the effort?  Am I not naturally inspiring enough for him?  Is it my thighs?  My belly?  My ankles?  My hair?  WHY DOES HE DO THIS TO ME?!?!” and before you know it you’ve picked a fight with the man without him having to do anything at all.  Self-esteem issues, thy name is woman.

So, to begin with, quit worrying that he isn’t attracted to you.  If you’ve clearly offered him sex and he’s eagerly accepted it three times in the last month, he’s still plenty interested.

Want to test that theory?  Go flash him your boobs and offer him an opportunity to play with them for a moment, no strings attached.  If he doesn’t take you up on it, you might have a problem.  More likely, he’s just trying not to be “too pushy” and make you feel intimidated . . . because he has no idea that you want to be a little intimidated.

And of course he feels you’re worth the effort . . . some times.  But most of the time everything is fine, so he doesn’t push it.

A new hairstyle or wardrobe or shoes isn’t going to suddenly spur him into Alphahood, although it might get you boned.  Giving him additional guidance on what he’s doing isn’t going to increase the quality and strength of your partnership, it’s going to annoy him.  But he won’t push it.  He’ll keep his mouth shut, do it your way because it’s just easier than fighting, and move on. 

If you want to change the man you have, you have some work to do. There are no guarantees it will work, but it’s almost inevitable that things will change . . . one way or another. 


Let’s begin by sketching out your husband.  Or, let’s begin by sketching out what your ideal for a husband is, and then determine how close your actual husband comes to that . . . as objectively as possible.  Try not to be too specific (“the ideal brings me flowers every Thursday, on my birthday, Valentine’s Day, and sometimes just because.  The actual got me flowers on my birthday only because his sister reminded him to.”) or too general (“my ideal has good values . . . but my actual husband looks at porn and likes to hang out in bars”).  Use the time-honored formula employed by high school girls everywhere: the Pro-Con list.

Before we move on, let’s also examine by just what you feel when you think of the word ‘husband’.  Is it a warm and tingly feeling that makes you feel safe and protected?  Or is it a sad admission that a woman can’t do it all and needs help?  When you think ‘husband’ do you think ‘boring’ or do you think ‘exciting’?  Just the word – not your actual husband.

Why?  Because a friend of mine had a great relationship . . . until she got married.  Then things went south, quick.  It wasn’t that she didn’t love him or was even not attracted to him, it was the simple fact that her mother and aunts had always said the word “husband” in a disdainful and derogatory manner, and when she heard someone refer to her boyfriend as her ‘husband’, she cringed.  She felt that just having a husband was a kind of admission of failure and inadequacy. 

So . . . stop thinking of husbands, in general, as clumsy and incompetent boobs who usually get what they deserve.  Stop thinking of them – in general – as obstacles to sensible living and challenges to good taste.  Most women in America have a very low opinion of husbands, largely because of how much they hear other women complain about theirs.  When a woman looks upon the word “husband” as a term that grants strength, protection, and pride in her union, instead of the inevitable suffix to “ex-”, then it’s amazing how much her attitude toward her husband can change.

If you aren’t familiar with the etymology of it, the term husband refers to Middle English huseband, from Old English hūsbōnda, from Old Norse hūsbōndi (hūs, "house" + bōndi, būandi, present participle of būa, "to dwell", so, etymologically, "a householder").  That is, he was the one legally and socially responsible for a family’s dwelling . . . the “head of household” designation that feminists have been so desperately attacking for years.  In our transient, post-industrial world, that merely means his name is on the lease or the mortgage – no big whup.

Only it is, or at least it was.  Before we changed homes every five years, the establishment of a permanent dwelling fit to raise children in was a major accomplishment to aspire to.  Nor was it easy, thanks to laws and customs and class and economics.  And yes, the laws did indeed prevent wives or single-women to be considered “heads” of households, except in special circumstances.

But for thousands of years the defining issue of “husband” was a man who had established a House.  He had built a home, or provided one, and was intent on raising a family, one that would ensure his survival into dotage.  That was the entire purpose of the institution of marriage in the Agricultural Age.  Your family was the ONLY “social security” anyone had, and building a strong family was a matter of survival, not just an occasion to go to bridal shows.

Being a husband had a social component to it that it currently lacks.  In the Middle Ages in England the term transformed into “Goodman”, but a husband was not merely the spouse of a wife, he was a unit in a larger social and political organization.  The investment in a marriage and a family and a House was a substantial commitment, not just to a woman but to a community.  You had a social obligation to protect and provide for your wife . . . but you also had an obligation to see that she didn’t “stir up trouble”.  The goodmen and the goodwives of a village were part of a sophisticated social network in which the responsibilities and expectations of what role a “husband” and a “wife” were well-defined, to each other and to the community.

Over-defined, if you ask feminists, who are the ones largely responsible for the denigration of both the term and the institution.  Such “gender-based roles” were barbaric and crude, designed only to keep women oppressed and silent, they say.  Removing the layers of expectations implicit in the institution of marriage may have “liberated” women, back in the 60s and 70s, but as so many women are discovering now, those “archaic gender-based roles” held more value than they thought.  Otherwise, why are they so unhappy in their marriages . . . when their horrifically-oppressed-by-the-patriarchy ancestors didn’t seem to have those problems?

That is an unfair comparison.  We don’t live in the Agricultural Age, we livein the Post-Industrial Age.  Now we get married because we’re “in love”, and children are a checkbox or a dealbreaker.  Raising a family isn’t social security, it’s a time-consuming and expensive hobby.  Plighting troth isn’t the solemn commitment it was, it’s an excuse to look at silver patterns. 

“Establishing a House” means signing a lease or mortgage, and you aren’t looking to establish a dynasty as much as making a thrifty investment.  All too often, it’s merely the largest asset to divide in the divorce, so even that small claim to dignity as a “house holder” is denied a husband. 

Modern women just don’t respect the term as a title or position – hell, they often mumble it “Hey, Alice, I wanted to introduce you to Barry!  (he’s my husband)”.  Plenty of women want to Be Married, and their ring is one of their most prized possessions.  But far less women want to Have A Husband.  Important distinction.  

In fact, the only people who seem to see husbands in a positive and respectful light these days are gay men. 

If you can re-define what the term means in your head, and shift it away from Al Bundy, Homer Simpson and Peter Griffin and more toward the traditional conception of the Head of Household.  Yeah, I want you to imagine Bob, back in the 1950s, being Head of Household.  It might make the remnants of your feminist soul boil, but back then being a solid, good provider and a Perfectly Decent Beta Dude was something to aspire to, the fulfillment of the American Dream.  I’m not saying you have to go put on an apron and make a pot roast, but start re-conceptualizing husbands, in general, as more than the accessory you get with your wedding ring. 

Now, take a cold, objective look at Bob and see where he falls short of that.  Don’t despair – I told you it would be work.  But you have to know what you’re dealing with before you can deal with it.  Just where would you like to see your husband improve his husbandly performance, and how?  Don’t go all fairy-tale – this is Real Life.  List some concrete, objective performance standards that you believe would give him a lift into the Alpha you crave in him.  If you find his taste in humor disgusting and banal, and it reduces your attraction to him, then list it.  If you hate the way he calls you “babe” all the time, list that.  In fact, list everything that reduces your attraction to him. 

What you’ll end up with will look like a wish-list for your next husband.  And in a way, it is . . . but not the way you think. 

Group your concerns by category, and if you have difficulty doing that, try really hard to break them down to their constituent pieces.  For example, if you think you’d like to see him drive something classier than his old heap, his wardrobe needs a makeover, and it would be really nice to stop dodging creditors all the time, then group all of those under FINANCIAL SECURITY ISSUES.  If you want him to really connect with you emotionally, be able to discuss his feelings, and share the deepest part of his soul with you then put those under EMOTIONAL ISSUES.  If you would like to see him buff up, lose weight, quit smoking, start eating properly, etc. list those under PHYSICAL ISSUES. 

And yes, if his dick is too small, list that.  In code.  Don’t be a bitch about it, but it is a concern.

You get the idea.  Once you have your concerns grouped like that, it’s easier to tackle them comprehensively.  Some, like financial security and physical fitness, will take some time.  Others, like “I hate his cheesy little mustache” can be quickly and easily rectified. 

But here’s the trick: you have to persuade him to deal with his deficits . . . without letting him know that’s what he’s doing.

Don’t get me wrong, if you tell a man you’re sleeping with you want X he’s going to move mountains to get you X, just because most of us are that partial to vaginas.  But if you come right out and say “I really am just not turned on by your passive demeanor and your indecisiveness, please grow some fucking backbone” all you’re going to do is plunge him into a depression, make him withdraw, and/or start a fight.  It’s insulting to hear such direct criticism from a woman, even for a Beta.  Especially for a Beta.  You have to be far more subtle than that.

It’s tricky, and you may have to use some rusty feminine wiles to do so.  It’s a long, involved process, often fraught with mistakes and false steps, but once your hubby starts to realize that Something Is Going On, then you can start to influence how he changes. 

That’s a huge process, and will require a lot more posts and probably a book, before long, but here’s a place to start.  The Boob Test.

One of the big mistakes many future ex-wives make is assuming that your husband knows what you want.  From your perspective, it seems like a no-brainer . . . but if he was seeing things from your perspective, you wouldn’t be here.  The truth is, he doesn’t pick up on more than half of what you say, and he probably is wary of taking anything you say at any particular time seriously, thanks to the feminine nature of examining an issue from many, many different sides before staking out a position. 

Women understand instinctively that another woman has to “try on” her feelings about something before she decides which one she’s firm on – but to dudes, it just looks dangerously indecisive.  Until he’s sure about what you think about something, he’s unlikely to commit because he doesn’t want to end up on the wrong side.  So he sits there with a dumb look on his face and mumbles “Idunnowhateveryouwantbaby” because he’s afraid that if he commits to one of your decisions, he will be judged and ultimately challenged, and that’s just not something he’s comfortable with.  It endangers the pussy supply and the wu of the marriage.

So make your desires clear to him without making him feel like it’s an ultimatum or judgment.  And in doing so, also lay out both your expectations of him, and the potential reward involved in a successful accomplishment.  It could go something as simple as this:

WIFE: “Hon, I’d love to go up to the lake this weekend.  Will you think about it?  If you book a room somewhere by Thursday, that would give me plenty of time to buy something special to wear for you.  Let me know what you decide.”

This was a good Red Pill way of inviting and encouraging your husband to take the initiative: you’ve spelled out your wishes, you’ve invited him to participate, you’ve given him some conditions, and you’ve outlined and hinted at the potential reward.  Now all you have to do is stand back and be amazed.  In fact, that’s part of the deal: you have to extend the invitation to lead, and then let him do it.  Or not.  It has to be his choice – all you can do is let him know what the stakes are.

If he’s smart, he’ll be having hotel sex and you’ll be having exciting interpersonal intimacy by the weekend.

Or, if Bob (or whomever) holds true to form, he’s not going to do anything.  Why?  Because you talk about stuff all the time, and he only half-listens to you anyway because most of what you say doesn’t concern him or things he’s interested in.  He may see your invitation as mere idle talk.

So . . . show him your boobs.

Seriously.  I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again.  If you want your husband to really listen and pay attention to you, remove your shirt and bra while you’re speaking.  Then repeat it.  Then ask him to repeat it back to you, until he gets it right.  He might – on purpose – fumble it a few times, just to keep staring at the unobstructed Twins, but he’ll eventually be able to repeat it back to you, verbatim. Then kiss him on the lips, let him cop a feel, and put your clothes back on, while asking, “Now, did what I just did demonstrate how important I felt it was to bring this to your attention?” and walk away before he can answer.

If you’re rolling your eyes, unconvinced that this will jar him out of his betacized lethargy because men couldn’t possibly be that . . . predictable, or if you’re snorting in disgust that I would suggest that you use your body and your sexuality to propose a perfectly normal and sensible suggestion to your husband, who should be listening to you anyway because he's your husband and he loves you, then allow me to dispel some myths about male psychology:

1)      Yes, men (most men, at least) really do react that way to the mere sight, much less physical presence, of naked boobs out of context of a shower or bathroom.  It’s banal, it’s crude, it’s unsophisticated, but it’s also a fundamental element of male sexuality in our culture.  Show us boobs and we listen.  Just ask the Lite Beer and Sports Car industries.

2)      Yes, you should be using your sexuality and your body (despite what you might think about it) to elicit interest and attention from your husband . . . because he didn’t marry you for your resume or your snappy wardrobe or your witty conversation, although any or all of those things could have contributed.  No, he married you because he wanted to fuck you – you, personally – for the rest of his life.  Period.  Kids, house, job, all that is secondary to the fact that he got hitched so that he could bump uglies with you.  A lot.  And if you are, indeed, somewhat disgusted that you would have to “demean” yourself with such an “undignified” display of your private sexuality merely to ensure your husband’s interest in a simple conversation, then you have to admit to yourself that yes, it is your pussy and not your brain he wants to spend time with most.  That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love, honor, and respect you, or that he wouldn’t take a bullet or hide a body for you.  It just means that he’d prefer to fuck you than just about anything else.  And you should make use of that fact, if you want to boot him out of Beta.
I understand that low-desire husbands do exist, and that the naked display of boobs may not be as efficacious in that case.  Still, if you aren’t the type of woman who would ever show her boobs so brazenly, just to get her husband’s attention, the consider the fact that such an act would, indeed, get his attention purely because of its novelty. If you have kept the Twins out of his hands on a regular basis, then suddenly thrusting your boobs in his face is going to be a major shock to his psyche.

And that is precisely what it is designed to do.

It’s not a pancea, but it’s a place to start.  Show him your boobs.  Don't be self-conscious -- he married those boobs, after all.  He sleeps next to them every night.  He likely knows what they look like, every hair, vein, and mole.  He will not, believe it or not, compare them to every other woman's boobs he's seen, because in Dude World the most important rack is the one that's right in front of you.  Don't think he won't go for it because "he's just not that kind of man."  Of course he is -- I know gay men who like to play with boobs.  The man who says he doesn't care for tits in his face is lying or asexual.  If I were you, I'd guess the former.  The truth is, if you gave him license to do so he'd be motorboating your girls on a daily basis.

But he’s also (if he’s Beta) so ridiculously timid and respectful about your body that the sight of your boobs in a strange and unusual context will jar him . . . hopefully toward a more Alpha response.  If you want to reinforce the point, give him three minutes to fondle you however he likes while you talk to him.  He’ll love it.  You’ll have his attention.  And you can reiterate your suggestion, invitation, and reward in a way that will stick out in his mind.

And I bet he’s a little more attentive next time you tell him you want to ask him something.  And a little more Alpha   Hell, it's a place to start . . . and if he doesn't react to your boobs, then you know you have other issues to deal with first.  But I'll lay money on a reaction, just because I'm confident that he enjoys boobs.  More than you think.  Probably more than you're comfortable with.  But his entire life he's been told to "treat women with respect" and "don't objectify their bodies" and other feminist tropes that have managed to make Perfectly Decent Beta Dudes into the indecisive, un-masculine specimens y'all are complaining about.

So show him your boobs while you talk, and see if it has any appreciable effect.  I'm guessing it will signify to his subconscious that there is a game-changing movement afoot in his marriage.  You've released your breasts for his pleasure (and attention) and that is a uniquely masculine form of empowerment.  A woman who shows you her boobs of her own free will (to the male subconscious) likes and respects you as a man (and even if she doesn't, who cares?  Free boob). That's the kind of self-reinforcing confidence-builder that can help begin to Break Beta.

Because once he gets tacit permission from you to actually, y'know, BE A DUDE (and dudes love boobs!) then he's far, far more likely to give up his gynophobic handicap and start thinking of himself not as your husband, a co-equal partner in a planned enterprise whose job it is to act as your emotional and intellectual support, but as your Husband, the man in charge of protecting and defending you, in charge of providing for his family like his ancestors before him, and in charge of giving you, his Wife, righteous boning on a regular basis without a lot of obsequious begging and pleading on his part and disgusted eye-rolling on yours.

It's not a cure-all -- and it might take more than one application.  Most women don't understand the depths of Beta to which most American men have surrendered, nor do they understand how hard it is to Break Beta -- hell, they've been threatened with social punishment their entire liveds for that.

But if you want to get your Perfectly Decent Beta Dude to Alpha Up, he has to stop being afraid of offending your delicate femininity with every word and gesture, and start acting like the Perfectly Exceptional Alpha Dude you want him to be.  Yeah, with your boobs.

And if he tries to cop a cheap feel later . . . let him.  Free boobies are one of the significant reasons he married you in the first place, and if he feels at liberty with your boobs (within reason, of course) then he will start feeling more free to take more risks . . . because your boobs have set him free.

More on this subject – probably a whole book more – is coming.  

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Girl Game: Extend An Invitation

Believe it or not, I’ve spent most of this last weekend thinking about women.

Specifically, the oft-mentioned frustration among Red Pill women who have recognized what kind of marriage they want to be in with their husbands, whose timidity and lack of ambition dry up panties regardless of their good intentions. 

It’s not that these dudes are duds, understand.  In almost every case they are good, decent, kind men who have dedicated themselves to their families and their wives.  It’s not that they lack devotion, understand – most are filled with good intentions and a deep-seated desire to succeed.  What they often lack is understanding: of their wives, of sex, of the nature of relationships, of the sophisticated interplay of sex and intimacy in a marriage, of themselves, their masculinity, and their own inner nature. 

Oftentimes these men have grown up cowed, with distant or absent fathers and strong, sometimes even domineering mothers.  They have been taught by society that their masculinity is a stain they must overcome, and they approach their duties as father and husband like penance, not a prize hard won. 

Their betacization may be very comfortable to them, as they have been accustomed over and over again to diminished expectations in their lives.  The passion and fire, the Alpha spark that attracted their wives top them in the first place, is buried within them like a high school achievement award long-forgotten in your sock drawer. 

These poor men struggle with the expectations of their wives and society at large, and often they see no way out.  Even if their wives are silently begging them to stand up, take charge, be the man of the family and take the helm as Captain, it is as if they are enshrouded in a murky cloud of self-doubt and suspicion wrought by a lifetime of fear.  Whether you blame feminism, absentee fathers, or the generally dismissive attitude toward Alpha masculinity our society has put forward in the post-industrial world, these men fear both rejection from their wives and families and condemnation by society if they show the backbone they need to.

So what can a Red Pill wife do to help him along? 

Firstly, she has to accept that she can’t do the work for him.  This is his journey.  You are a part of it, but ultimately it will be up to him to rise to the challenge.  And that sentence, right there, is the essence of the second thing, and the point of my post: the rediscovery of his masculinity is a serious challenge to him, as imposing as a physical obstacle or an emotional crisis.  And often the only constructive thing a wife can do seems to be encouraging him to rise to that challenge . . . without letting your disappointment and discouragement show through.

I’ve discussed this long and hard (giggity) with Mrs. Ironwood all weekend, and gotten some superb advice from my readers as well.  Many of them are struggling with just this problem. 

How can a wife encourage her husband to be more Alpha without sabotaging her own efforts by inspiring doubt and insecurity, not confidence and authority?

Mrs. Ironwood’s response was intriguing.  She reminded me of when we first met, that first heady year of infatuation where good and regular sex was making both of our hormones do crazy things.  Without even realizing it at first, we started vetting each other almost immediately.  I quickly established she couldn't cook, she enjoyed sex, she was socially adept, she enjoyed sex, she was a genuinely warm and trustworthy person and she enjoyed sex.  Of course I was fixated on the sex, but that other stuff came up in the afterglow.

But then she reminded me of a moment that I’d forgotten, a moment that she used as the kernel for her to wrap her efforts around.  I’d gotten my very first novel sale from my very first novel submission, and I was feeling cocky as hell.  I was still in college, after all.  That in and of itself was a pretty credible DHV, considering I was still waiting tables.  I might be a struggling artist, but I was a struggling artist with some real success behind me. 

That’s not what got to her, though, she revealed.  What convinced her that I had serious potential was the stack of rejection letters I’d wracked up attempting to sell my second, original novel.  By that point I’d gotten thirteen, and I was thrilled.  I showed them to her almost eagerly as proof that I was a “real” writer . . . I wasn’t just coasting on my sale, I was already moving on to the next project, and had plans for more after that.  I wasn’t a guy who wrote a book, I was an author with a career I was managing, a career for which I had already armed myself with considerable knowledge. 

But more than that, I displayed my passion for the work with those rejection letters.  My cocky self-assuredness that I’d sell lots more books, my anticipation of more rejection letters as I worked to find another sale, those were HUGE displays of raw Alpha confidence to Mrs. I.  When a man is dedicated to his vocation, she explained, it’s easy for him to talk about all of the great achievements and accomplishments he feels he will make.  But when a man is so focused on his career that he not only anticipates the inevitability of rejection and failure, but looks forward to it as a positive sign of growth, that man is one to be reckoned with. 

It was that stack of rejection letters that convinced her that I had Serious Potential.  That came as a bit of a shock to me. At the time I was just trying to brag enough to get laid. 

But Mrs. Ironwood saw it as something more.  Since a large part of her mating strategy at the time (thanks to her utter wreck of an ex) involved looking for a guy with real potential . . . and the ambition to realize it, she saw this as evidence of both.  The sale was great, she was impressed . . . but the hustle to keep pushing for success was far more impressive.  And the cocky way I cheerfully read her each of my rejection letters made her positively moist with appreciation.

She followed that up with a very physical demonstration of her esteem, and after that she made my writing career the one thing in which she made an universal effort to support and encourage me.  And by “support and encourage”, I mean wildly praise and wildly screw me at every sign of success as a means of positive reinforcement.

Seems to have worked.

The working theory that Mrs. Ironwood developed around this was: if you strongly encourage a man’s passion, and invite him to continue to succeed in that passion through consistent positive reinforcement, then he will naturally desire to follow that path as the path of least resistance.  And while delivering humpity goodness by the bucketloads is the core of that positive reinforcement, it involves many other aspects.  Bragging to her friends about me.  Talking to strangers about her brilliant husband the writer.  Openly and sincerely expressing her respect and admiration for me. 

Now I’m imagining that kind of apparently fawning devotion sickens the stomachs of some of my feminist readers.  I’m certain that most of those ladies are appalled at my apparent need to have my "delicate male ego" encouraged and catered to by my wife like I was a child.  The fact that you reduce it to those terms indicates your lack of understanding about how married people manage to stay married.

Mrs. Ironwood would not say she was particularly “submissive” in those days.  Hell, she was positively spunky, something which I was attracted to.  But she did understand male psychology well enough, and understood the role of a well-presented femininity in that context, to know that she actually had a lot of influence over me if she was careful enough to use it wisely.  She learned early on that I didn’t respond well to criticism (see: “nagging turns me on”), but she also learned pretty early how well I responded to bribes and positive reinforcement. 

She sees it as a subtle demonstration of the Art of femininity.  Just as a well-presented Alpha can use command presence and quiet authority to direct change, a woman can use the idea of the Invitation to elicit change.  The carrot, not the stick. 

Simply put, a way to quietly encourage a man toward a more Alpha presentation is to put him in situations in which you would like him to display Alpha, and then quietly invite him to do so without judgment or rejection.  That can be difficult for younger women especially, particularly if their mothers were single corporate feminists and raised them to see such expressions as a sign of weakness.  Too often an invitation from them turns into a shit-test.  And from women who have been in a troubled relationship for a while, such a passive sort of action seems counter-intuitive when you really just want to strangle him in his sleep.

But a woman’s strength in a marriage is usually not the ordering authority at which masculinity excels, but in her ability to inspire and encourage her husband while at the same time acting as a reasonable check and balance to his enthusiasm and occasional dumb-assery.  Mrs. Ironwood does not deliver ultimatums to our children, ordinarily.  She invites them to achieve and relates to them her reasonable expectations as well as her future delight in their accomplishments.  It’s a sign of her feminine grace that she doesn’t feel compelled to use threats to encourage proper behavior from them, she demonstrates both her hope (and eventual joy at its fulfillment) without dwelling over-much at the possibility of failure and her expectations and belief in their ability to do achieve. 

In retrospect, that was her M.O. all along and I just never realized it.  When I went to meet her father for the first time (on Father’s Day, no less), she did her best to prepare me for the reality of his alcoholism and his belligerence, and then invited me along to protect her.

Now, if she had led with “My dad’s a drunk asshole and might get violent when he sees me with another boy,” I might have had second thoughts and actually considered waiting in the car.  Had she been one of her contemporaries, she might have done just that.  But she was already certain that I was the one she wanted to marry (although she was still very willing to ditch me if we hit a dealbreaker - which impressed me) and even though she hadn't let me in on that fact, that’s how she was operating.

Instead she told me she’d like us to drop by to drop off her Father’s Day gift to her dad, and introduce me.   Then she put her hand on my arm, made sure she had my full attention, and spoke very softly but very confidently, saying something like this:

“It’s quite possible my dad has been drinking, and he has been known to get unpredictable and sometimes even violent when he does.  I hate to ask you, Ian, but would you mind walking me to the door and making certain things don’t get out of hand?  I’d be grateful.”

My masculinity surged at the invitation.  It had no innate assumption that I would, that I was obligated, that she was expecting me to do it.  She asked me, quietly and politely, to do one very specific thing – make sure things didn’t get out of hand.  

Yes, she was implicitly counting on the fact that I was a Big Hairy White Boy who was capable of doing violence.  And she knew from our short acquaintance that I was the kind of guy who indulges in chivalry from time to time.

But she did not act entitled to my protection, merely because she was a woman, or even because she was a woman I was dating.  We didn’t have much of a commitment at that point, and while we were still quite infatuated with each other the specter of dealbreakers loomed large.  

What impressed me was that she did not act from a sense of entitlement.  She did not assume my protection merely because I was a guy and we were dating, she actively solicited my assistance and protection.  She invited me to be her hero . . . and I ate it up like half-priced wings at Hooter’s.

Now, that same technique could have been used by a woman of lesser character to maneuver a dude into a dangerous situation for her own nefarious ends – I get that.  Hell, I’ve seen it happen.  I was certainly taking a risk in taking her up on her invitation – I’d confronted belligerent drunks in the past, but I was rarely fucking their daughter.  That put a unique spin on things.

Still, she made it clear that it was important to her, and she was going to go up there anyway, regardless what I did.  She told me that if I didn’t want to, she would understand – and I’m sure she would, she was very understanding.  At that point I was already quite fond of her, and the testosterone was certainly coloring my perspective.  She had enough dread of her father’s unpredictability to not want to inflict him on anyone.  If I had said “drunk and angry daddy?  No, thank you!”, it would have been completely cool.  For a while.

But the other thing I didn’t realize is that once Mrs. Ironwood had made up her mind that I had Serious Potential, and the vetting had begun, among the first tests she was forced to throw at me was this one.  She had to not only introduce me to her father in a proper context (Father’s Day), but in a way that minimized the possibility of conflict WHILE ALSO clearly establishing, to him, that she was no longer either his problem or his to protect.

Okay, perhaps that is a little devious, now that I write about it.  I prefer to chalk it up to “shrewd”, in retrospect.

She was serious enough about me to take this risk, and serious enough about me to see if I’d back her up if there was an issue.  She also told me – in advance – that she would be grateful, as part of the invitation.  You just gotta love a Southern girl.  

She never made any specific “if you do this I’ll lay you righteously later”, she merely invited me to participate in this exciting opportunity to get the shit beat out of me and impress her with my willingness to take a punch, the unmistakable subtext being that her gratitude would be expressed in the sincerest fashion a nineteen-year old girl with a new boyfriend knew how.

In turn, I was impressed with both her willingness to walk in there with or without me – I respect bravery – and the humility she displayed in her invitation.  She didn’t beg.  She didn’t try to coerce.  She just spelled it out sweetly, told me the general expectations, and then hinted at the potential consequences both good and bad.  I didn’t know shit about Alpha or Beta back then, but I knew that when a pretty girl asks you to protect her, and you know in advance that she puts out, it really simplifies the decision-making process.

I can see her extending other invitations over the years.  Most I took.  Some I did not.  Some were obvious shit-tests in disguise, and some of those I did anyway, because it was part of her vetting.  She put up with enough crap from me during our vetting so I don’t resent it, but part of the vetting was seeing how she would attempt to invoke my aid and cooperation.  She extended invitations, which I was free to accept or decline.  I could live with that.

Her willingness to invite me to do stuff – not just for her, but for the relationship or even for my friends, if I was reluctant – wasn’t selfish.  She didn’t order me around like a slave, or demand I do anything.  She didn’t drop ultimatums or challenge my manhood.  She just . . . invited.  With the scope of her expectations and her gratitude invoked at the start.  And if I did not accept the invitation, she might be disappointed, but she was always courteous about it.

(One of the tragic things that the post-industrial world has given us is not just an erosion of common civility, but a scarcity of simple politeness and honorifics that allow far more nuanced communication.  Some feel that basic politeness isn’t necessary between husband and wife, as the intimacy implied in the commitment should transcend such things.  In my experience, close acquaintance makes the use of politeness and manners essential, not optional, in a marriage.  If I’ve ever failed to ask “please” or say “thank you”, it has been entirely unintentional.  Normally it’s part of the Ironwood family culture for such elements to help soothe the friction that can result from normal wear-and-tear.  Even (or especially) my kids are included: even while they are being yelled at for destroying something irreplaceable and invaluable (and sometimes something that they’ve been assured “aw, the kids can’t hurt that!”), other adults remark how absolutely polite my kids are.  It actually weirds some parents out.  That’s just how we roll.  But I digress.)

There were also times in the depths of my Blue Pill daze, particularly when I was “between assignments”, when we both doubted my ability to actually make my career work out.  But to her great credit, she never voiced those concerns to me, or to anyone else to my knowledge.  And when my discouragement not just with my writing career, but my ability to get any sort of job became too much, she was universally supportive even if she wasn’t sure if she believed it.

Things got pretty frustrated on both sides, compounded with an ankle injury that led to a long stint on crutches/in a cast/in a wheelchair for her.  But as frustrated as she was, she almost never lost it and took it out on me.  Instead, when she saw that I was having problems, she would quietly invite me to help her do something that was actually designed to help me. 

It’s complicated, but in the depths of depression she found a way to re-ignite my passions and invite me to move forward.  She managed to inject me with hustle at some critical times not by telling me how desperate things were, but by telling me that she believed in me enough that she was certain that they were temporary.  She rarely nagged, never bitched, and always – always – respected me. 

So Mrs. Ironwood suggests to those women who are struggling with men trapped in Betaland that they consider trying to invite their husbands to take steps designed to allow his inner Alpha more room to run.  By using the simple feminine power of invitation, informed by expectation and backed by sufficient gratitude, a woman can encourage a man to take a few tentative steps towards the Captain’s chair. 

Consider this example: Mrs. Apple would really prefer Mr. Apple to get her a little more juiced by presenting more Alpha – more, she’d like to see him really take charge and handle things, now that they’re both fairly secure in their marriage.  But Mr. Apple is hesitant.  He’s been told all of his life that GOOD husbands don’t assert themselves and their male privilege in a marriage, because that’s WRONG and means he’s a bad person. 

He feels that deferring to Mrs. Apple is the only way to be happy in a marriage, and he accepts this because a) he’s been made to feel guilty for and ashamed about his masculinity and b) because it allows him to escape the accountability of traditional masculinity. 

Simply put, by constantly ceding the initiative to Mrs. Apple and letting her take the lead whether he agrees with how she’s doing things or not, Mr. Apple has a convenient scapegoat upon which to blame his mediocrity: his wife won’t let him.  He feels vindicated in his passivity because taking the risks that are implicit in leadership can and does lead to bruising, and by escaping leadership he can also escape fault and responsibility. 

That might be a safe strategy.  But it's not particularly manly.  And it's not a panty-dropper by any means.  She knows it, and deep down so does he.  By taking refuge in the Beta under the cover of a "co-equal relationship" and making his wife the leader in fact, if not in name, he thinks that her respect for his feminist principals and dedication to equality will improve her attraction.  In fact, he's clinging to that idea, because the alternative -- that he needs to Alpha up and show some leadership -- is just too darn scary.  It's too much work.  It's too dangerous, considering how quickly the womenfolk in his life are likely to jump on a sudden emergence of spine.

Worst of all, it might endanger his pussy supply, which he sees as a scarce quantity manifested within well-establish boundaries.  While he might not be thrilled with either the quality or quantity, he figures meager poon is better than no poon . . . and he can supplement with porn as needed.

It's not a bad life, for a Beta.  He's got about a 50/50 shot at seeing inertia overcome any regrets his wife might have that would lead to divorce, and those are pretty good odds in Vegas.  If he can distract himself with fantasy football, work, or other hobbies, and he isn't too into sex, being a Beta drone doesn't suck.  Not exactly a man's life, but compared to the living conditions throughout history, it's not bad.  While living in fear of your wife isn't pleasant, it beats being slaughtered in the meatgrinder of industrialized warfare or starving on a streetcorner or dying of something infectious.

But the Beta's poor wife, she struggles.  Whether she deals with the passive-aggressive nature of the marriage with any amount of grace or not is immaterial: what she actually got in her marriage was not what she envisioned at her Big Party.  She slowly loses respect in her husband even as she struggles to trumpet his feeble achievements.  Her frustration may turn to chiding and nagging, exacerbating the situation (most men will merely withdraw, their attention if nothing else) or it may turn into an increasingly-tacky number of shit-tests.  Neither route transforms him into the man of her dreams.  Worse, they both confuse things.

She wants the dependable, loving, empathetic provider, a man adept with comfort-building Beta skills.  But she craves the strong, decisive, resolute and protective Alpha male she reads about, sees in the media, and may even know in real life . . . and hubby ain't him.  Some days she wonders if they're even in the same species.  She desperately wants him to be that man, but at the same time she fears losing control of both him and the relationship.  Encouraging his Alpha is dangerous, after all.  That's why she wants it.  And fears it.  And wants him to intuitively understand that and manage to do that without pissing her off -- hell, by making her like it, even when she doesn't want to.

But when it actually happens, she reacts.  When he asserts himself and she senses losing control, she responds by tightening down.  He responds by clamming up.  Frosty times result.  Eventually, he caves, because he knows sex is out of the question until this is resolved.  Obsequious and allegedly romantic ass-kissing results, she knows she has to feign approval of his clumsy efforts or risk real problems, and a few mutually miserable weeks later she gets drunk and lets him tear one off before she passes out . . . thus rewarding him for his Betatude even while she despises it.

In the end, she ends up directing while trying to pretend that it's a union of equals.  Even when she tries to defer to her husband on an issue, even if it's a token "male" issue, he's reluctant to offer an opinion for fear of upsetting her.  So even while she might get things the way she wants them, the fact that she could not rely on him for input makes her dissatisfied with the process.  That triggers his fear response, and he piles on more obsequious Beta . . . precisely what she's finding objectionable.

So she ends up acting Captain without the title or the clout, while he avoids conflict and, increasingly, his chances at poon.  Mrs. Apple ends up telling Mr. Apple what he needs to do, even if she finds a nice way to do it without overtly emasculating him.  And if she's telling him, then there's no room for him to even try to show some Alpha leadership . . . because he feels like it's a trap.

So on top of Inviting your husband to take an active hand, you must reduce his Fear by assuring him that you will accept the consequences of that, no matter what they are, in advance . . . and then sticking to that.  You must convince him that you will not second-guess, criticize, undermine, or otherwise attempt to re-take control once you have ceded it, except in the most dire situations.

And yes, you should prepare yourself for much teeth-gritting and patience as he stumbles through the idea that he is in charge the first few times.  Because no one gets bitten by a radioactive pit bull and turns into Alpha Man.  With rare exceptions, they have to learn it the hard way, like Bruce Wayne did, one painful mistake at a time.

That's the downside of encouraging Alpha, Ladies: your newly-strong and passionate man may not always do things the way you want.  And you have to not only accept that, you have to be open to it.  You have to be willing to accept the consequences of his leadership, even if they suck.

This is especially difficult if you have spent most of your adult life on your own, and have a low threshold for incompetence.  One flash of impatience and you tear the wheel out of his hand and you've ruined the entire effort.  It's also difficult if you have standards so rigid  for how things should be done that you are unwilling to entertain an alternative to something you know is just more efficient or otherwise preferable.  Just because you know how you do it, that doesn't mean that you know how he does it, and his way might be . . . different.  You have to bite your tongue and let him make mistakes without criticism and judgement, unless he solicits it.  If he does solicit it, do your best to be a diplomatic and helpful First Officer, but do not hand him the answers . . . and don't criticize him or the process.

Above all, YOU MUST NOT PANIC, JUMP IN, AND TAKE THE WHEEL BECAUSE YOU THINK HE'S SCREWING IT UP.  Unless the boat is going over a waterfall, you must not only accept the inevitability of his "screwing up", you must allow him the room to do so without condemning him.  Point out that you're sorry things didn't go as planned, if you must, and offer him some quiet encouragement to marshal his resources and rethink through the problem . . . but don't offer to solve it and don't tell him he's an idiot for not solving it.

It's a confidence thing.  And Betas have a long, hard road back to Alpha levels of confidence ahead of them.  Think of it as a sandcastle that they're building, one grain of sand at a time.  Until it's large enough to withstand it's own weight, it will be a fragile thing.  In order to improve his confidence in his own leadership, you must express your confidence in his leadership even if you have your doubts.  And you will -- you'd be stupid not too.  But an expression of confidence in his ability to -- eventually -- handle the situation helps remove some of the "crippling fear of judgement" element.

Next, you have to clearly and simply state your Expectations.  No, really.  Don't beat around the bush, don't hint, use innuendo or subtlety - the time for that is past.  Such hints only confuse him about what you actually want - remember, he isn't another woman.  He doesn't use multi-channel communication, he has a purely analog mind for these purposes.  If you don't tell him what the desired goal is, at least one aspect of it that he can hang on to, then he's going to be confused and hilarity will ensue.

Consider: When you tell your dude "I really wish you would be more romantic", in so many words, he has no freaking clue what you really mean, so you end up with flowers and chocolate and dinner . . . which is all very nice and regular and cliched and boring and not at all what you really meant.  What you really meant was "I want you to pay me some close, personal attention in a stimulating environment in a way that leads to emotional intimacy, growing affection, and sexual excitement, making me feel important and loved and lucky to be with you."

Sure, "romantic" is short-hand for that . . . to women.  But most non-Game dudes cling to the safety of chocolate/flowers/dinner/diamonds because that's all they know of romance.  So spell out your expectations without handing him the answers.  Let him know what would make you happy, but don't be so specific that it turns into a shopping list, not an opportunity for leadership.

Lastly, you have to dangle the Incentive in front of him.  It doesn't have to be sexual (that's just the simplest and most basic incentive), you can actually give him meaningful reward merely by verbally paying him some respect.  Mrs. Ironwood assures that the best results come when you leave the exact nature and means of the incentive vague and nebulous, with the understanding that it will be commiserate with the effort and the achievement.  But she also cautions that bait-and-switch tactics undermine the very confidence you are trying to inspire.  If you imply that "very grateful" is somehow sexual, then you follow through.  If you imply that the pay off will be in admiration and respect, then it has to be verbal and (if possible and appropriate) delivered publicly.

(ALPHA BUFF: Ladies, quick-and-dirty way to up your fella's Alpha instantly without him even realizing it?  Call him out for effusive but reasonable praise in front of a group of people -- friends, family, even in-laws he doesn't like.  Men get a surge of Alpha from both respect and loyalty, and your public recognition and admiration are just the kind of cheap trick that can put a little more Tarzan into Saturday nights.  Just sayin'.)

Once you have Invited him to take up the challenge, removed the fear of judgement, assured him of your approval (even if its just for the effort) and gratitude, invoked your confidence in him, and presented the lure of a grateful incentive then . . . you just have to sit back and wait. 

That's the hard part, for two reasons: firstly, because some guys are so mired in Beta that you might have to repeat this two or three times before he gets it.  Secondly, because sitting around and waiting for the Alpha to sprout can be maddeningly frustrating.

You can mitigate this by starting with small things, low-hanging fruit.  For example, if you tell him "I've got the last weekend of the month free . . . I want to go away together.  Just the two of us.  Would you please make the arrangements? Whatever you pick will be fine, I just want to go someplace.  Surprise me, but let me know what kind of clothes to pack about a week beforehand, so I'll be ready.  I'm confident you'll find somewhere intriguing to go," then that gives you everything on the list:

1. Invitation ("Would You Please Make The Arrangements?")
2. Expectation ("I Want To Go Away Together For The Weekend")
3. Removal of Fear ("Whatever You Pick Will Be Fine")
4. Assurance of Approval/Inspiration of Confidence ("Surprise Me . . . I'm Confident You'll Find Somewhere Intriguing")
5. Incentive ("Just The Two Of Us" [giggity])

And that's the proper way to extend an invitation to a dude.

One of three things will happen.

a) He ignores you completely.

b) He makes a tepid stab at it, but folds and asks you for advice and more information.

c) He stumbles a bit, but manages to find someplace that technically fulfills your expectations, even if the details are, perhaps, not what you envisioned.

d) Free of restrictions and constraints, he will pick an extraordinary getaway destination that truly surprises you.  Mad wet panties as a result.

So how do you deal with each of these situations?  That comes under Follow-Through.  It varies according to his response, and should be tailored to the situation, but in general if he ignores you, you should repeat yourself at least once, without prejudice.  If he ignores you twice, then proceed to the Direct Approach:

Grab both of his hands suddenly.  Sit him down in a chair.  Crawl into his lap until you are straddling him.  Grab his face.  Kiss him for no less than ten seconds straight.  Use tongue.  Make moany noises.  Continue until you feel the bulge rise under your booty.  Break the kiss.  Say,

"Now, do I have your complete and undivided attention?"  Wait for positive response.  Then repeat the original Invitation.

He will probably pick up on it the second time.

In the case of b), a variation of the Direct Approach is called for.  Repeat all the steps up to the dialog.  Substitute:

"If I wanted to make the arrangements, I would have made the arrangements.  I wanted you to make the arrangements.  So make the arrangements.  There are no wrong answers.  As long as I don't end up at a gun show or a NASCAR rally, and it's someplace no one can hear you scream, we're good.  Don't overthink it, just do it."  Repeat kiss.  Walk away and wiggle your ass.

Then be prepared for a lusty weekend at a Collard Greens festival or such, because yeah, he's probably going to screw it up.  It doesn't matter.  He tried.  He made an effort.  If the result sucks scissors, you must still reward the effort.  One more grain of confidence to his pile.  In case of c), your best bet is to utterly ignore the quirky-to-abysmal conditions and focus on the "Just The Two Of Us" element.  Yes, you should still hump him silly, because sexual positive reinforcement works with dudes like bells with slobbery dogs.

But afterwards, when you do comment on it, keep your criticism light and suggestive ("Maybe next time we could try the hotel without the chalk line silhouettes in the room -- it looked like they had a salad bar!") without bringing him down.  Make sure to thank him for the effort and assure him that you not only had some fun on the little adventure, that you appreciate all of his hard work and efforts to make it happen.  Then screw him again when you get home, just to emphasize the point.

If you get option d) you are a very lucky woman.

If he absolutely blows you away, and you find yourself having lunch in Paris, singing a duet with your favorite pop star, or sampling champagne while a horse-drawn carriage drives you down to the two-masted sailboat your husband has hired to whisk you away to the Bahamas overnight, then you have struck Prime Husband.  Fuck him rotten upon arrival.  Blow him like it's prom night.  Seriously consider anal.  Offer to get a tramp-stamp tattoo of his name.  Think about a threesome with a $1000 a night hooker.  Dress up in a schoolgirl outfit and put your hair in pigtails.  Compose an ode to his penis.  You do everything in your power to make him feel manly, mighty, and truly Alpha.

And before you know it . . . he'll start acting truly Alpha.  Because nothing incites the ambition for Alpha like getting righteously laid by a stone freak that you just happen to be married to.  Success breeds confidence, and to dudes nothing makes you more confident than successful breeding.  If he manages Option D, then you start thinking up shit to do to him you've only heard about on the internet.  That kind of positive reinforcement is just the feedback his masculine soul needs to give him the desire to be the kind of man you want him to be.

After a couple of slow balls, you can consider upping the ante . . . but don't push him too far or too fast.  Slowly but surely extend him invitations to act, and then persuade him that it is in his interest to accept them.  Pick things you know are well within his scope, at first, before getting too challenging.   Don't expect him to go full Picard the first time, but gradually increase the difficulty of the challenges and the richness of reward.

And if you think using sex as an incentive is somehow cheap, demeaning, or an insult to your femininity and individual independence . . . grow the fuck up.  You're married, you aren't in high school anymore.  Sex for romance, intimacy and love is for the infatuation stage the honeymoon, and vacation sex.  When you're married, sometimes you have sex because that's what married people do.  It isn't always about your personal feelings on the subject.

Believe me, your husband swallowed his personal feelings when he suffered through all of those bridal shows and your sister's piano recital.  He's bought tampons for you against his inclination.  He's done plenty of stuff he wasn't into, for the sake of the marriage.  If you suffer from the illusion that all good sex is an intimate and erotic expression of love, then you don't need to be married.  Married sex is like a huge box of chocolates: there's plenty of variety, and every now and then you'll come across something you just don't like, but it's only candy.  There will always be another piece in the box.  And you know that caramel praline you've been craving is hiding out there, somewhere . . .

One of the dramatic misconceptions that has arisen out of the feminist-influenced Sexual Revolution is that if every sexual experience in marriage is anything less than a magical intimate gestalt of emotion, spirit, and pleasure, then the wife is being cheated somehow.  The fact is, in marriages that last (that is, non-feminist-oriented ones) there's plenty of mediocre sex.  For both parties.  That's what you are signing up for.  If you can't handle that, then don't get married and stay on the carousel.

The trade-off is that when it's good, married sex is REALLY fucking good, because you can do things with your wife of 20 years that you couldn't even consider proposing to a woman half her age.  While the dude who goes out and puts 10 notches on his post in a month with his exotic harem of FBs and ONS is seen as a successful player by any reasonable standard, the fact is he only has sex 10 times in a month.  That's just barely the married average.  While he's struggling mightily to break new ground and add another notch, a married couple can go through foreplay, intercourse, and afterplay before he's found the first likely prospect of the evening.  And an hour later, they can do it again.

Married sex might be mediocre on average, but in a Red Pill marriage, it's plentiful with occasional flashes of brilliance.  If a dude has good Married Game and can juggle the Alpha/Beta skillset skillfully enough, then the opportunities for such flashes go up as his woman becomes more inspired.  If a dude is trapped in Betaland, he requires an invitation to escape before he can find his Alpha.  An invitation to lead.  An invitation to be the kind of man you know he has the potential to be, and the kind of man he wants to be.

But he has to accept the Invitation in the first place.  He might be reluctant to, so keep it simple.  Repeat the offer, if you must, but extend the Invitation to follow his masculinity and find his Alpha.  And then hump him righteously as a reward.