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Topic: My Life was All about Women
Hi folks,
I just want to take the opportunity to have a place and give my life story. I’m going to drone on a bit, though I wish I could condense it more, but there’s just so much in my story. I’m going to focus on what I’ve realized to be pretty much about what my life has been about: women.
For the record, I’m not true MGTOW. I want to lay that out there right now. The MGTOW movement is in response to they psychological pathology of our society. Our society is very ill. The point is that MGTOW is in response. If society was healthy, this would be a celebrated forum, specially for men, and promoted by women to empower them to be who men are. Before you start jumping my case though, I want you to also understand that I just heard of MGTOW not too long ago on Feminism LOL’s Youtube channel, where she says it’s really the only hope men have. We’re talking a few weeks. This is where I’m at.
Now my family was dysfunctional, and what I’ve learned about dysfunctional families is the gender roles. In the more sicker the society or group of people, the stronger the gender roles. In the ghetto, gender roles are dialed up to eleven, but in healthier societies there is much more flexibility in gender roles. I’m not really all that macho of a man, I don’t like football or trucks, but I do like fighting, video games, heavy metal, working out, philosophy, psychology, and computers. I also like essential oils and a host of other traditionally effeminate things. I’m going to point out my life philosophy and you’ll see why I posted the mix of interests I have. You’ll see my attitude as it was shaped. You’ll see how those interests are important.
Again, I was born into a dysfunctional family. I had two older sisters and both of my parents. My mother was seriously codependent and my father had a moderate case of borderline personality disorder, and a strong case of PTSD. I’ll leave it up to you to figure out how the gynocentric (FYI, the word, “gynocentric,” is underlined as misspelled in my browser) culture really helped the both of them, by convincing my mother that she just needs to keep playing her vagina card (which just means she’s less of a woman that it didn’t work), and how my father’s existence was valued entirely about how he can control women, and also about his serious needs and how not one person in the entire world did anything to help.
I grew up with a seriously impoverished male role model. It was so awful that I didn’t want to be a, “man.” To me, a, “man,” was something abhorrent. I do now realize I had a little bit of help along the way with this. However, my father’s behavior, which was very abusive to everybody, and to me, gave me the view that manhood was actually dangerous immaturity. He leered at teenage girls, commented to me about them, and all sorts of poor behavior. He called this, “eyeball liberty,” but I found it demeaning. Now, don’t get me wrong… I’m not saying the male gaze is demeaning, but that he was abusing male gaze to hurt people deliberately and cover it over with either, “eyeball liberty,” or the argument that these young women should appreciate it. However, he was truly hostile. Keep in mind that he was married to my mother at the time.
That’s not all my father did. He was manipulative, violent, and controlling. He made all of us feel like garbage. He was a major pornography addict and wanted to take his interest into the norm. He wanted to be able to freely talk about it and express his interest. He pushed me around a lot. If I made him look bad, I was punished. His punishments weren’t terrible, but they were harsh. I wasn’t punished for my sake though, but for his. I was often punished when what I needed was helped. I was being bullied at school for being small, different, dyslexic, ADD, by the students, the teacher, and the staff. My family did nothing to help.
At this point I see manhood as disgusting, and to my credit, what I saw in all the men was stupidity, immaturity, violence, selfishness, and all sorts of vileness. I felt legitimately loved by my mother however. She wasn’t helpful to me, and even encouraged me to tolerate my father’s violence and abuse (she didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding another man, because she knew what was going to happen if he went to jail).
I’ve said nothing of my sisters. I know they both have PTSD and a serious hatred of men. For extra credit: How has feminism helped them grow up and heal from this abuse? Of course it didn’t. I became hated by them. It wasn’t just proxy hatred, but gender hatred. They both were jealous of me because my father was less violent both when I came around, and with me directly. My father, according to them, has a clear preference to me. However, what they don’t know is that I was to be his pet boy. He didn’t respect my sovereignty but tried to force me to be his little bitch and his little sexual frolics. They also failed to see that I sympathized with them, and the trouble they faced both as women, and as victims of my father. They also paid no attention to the problems I faced, dismissing them, and even took dumps on me as they explained to me how women do this and that for the benefit of men.
I took all of that but I didn’t understand the true seriousness or their mindset. We all have frustrations and issues. You can see how I’m placed helpless and being hung in effegee for fictitious sins.
What my sisters failed to acknowledge is that they were very abusive too. When I was a toddler, I was dressed up in my older sister’s doll clothes. She told me that if I didn’t let her put them on me, I would turn into a girl. This girl was 10 years old at this time, probably. I then would cry because I was scared. I don’t remember this story, but I do remember my sisters telling me this story, year after year, after year. It seems to be very important that I remember and know this story.
My middle sister seemed to have taken a sexual attraction to me. She never crossed any lines proper, but she did weird me out a few times. I remember licking my lip once in the corner of my mouth. Then she would ask me to do that all the time and dote on me for it. She said I did it so well and apparently it was so aesthetically pleasing to her. I eventually protested and stopped it, but she persisted on pressuring me to do it until she gave up. Later, when both my parents were out working and we had just moved into another place in a small town (this town was a very sick town, and I was going to get severely bullied, one of the worst times of my life). I was unfortunately left with my sister for long stretches of time.
My sister did play mind games. I don’t know what the nature of these mind games, but there was one in particular that still leaves me feeling sick after all these years. It’s funny how physical violations are never forgotten. What she’d do is coax me into getting close to her physically, then she’d reach her arms around me and pull me into her as though a mother grabs her child affectionately. I gave her the benefit of the doubt at first, but pushed her away when done. I didn’t like her back then, already.
She would keep this up, and promised me outright that she wasn’t going to do it. It seemed funny to her that I would fall for it every time. I would trust her, do what she asked (that was a psychological paradigm, me doing what she says all the time, something she never gave up on), and go physically close. While I did it, her excitement increased and I could hear the mouth noises as she struggled to contain her mirth, and then the same thing would happen again. She would smother me in her arms. The last time I made her promise to me, and she did it. I guess she thought it was funny that all she had to do is say whatever it is I needed her to say before I could trust her again. She through the word promise at me, and I gave her the credit. Well, it happened one last time and at that point, I knew she was nobody of her words.
My relationship with that person was always troubling. My middle sister always pushed me around. She picked on me from time to time. She even tried to call me, “boy,” after my father called me that. She thought that this was OK to do since I was, “The Boy,” or something. From my father it means one thing, but from her, it was something else. One of the few times she was reprimanded for treating me like this, she grudgingly accepted.
My middle sister still held on to her other privileges, thinking I come when she calls, just like how I come when my parents call, even if she’s doing it for her interests, outside of my parents command. She also was demanding and controlling, and when I realized I didn’t have to do what she wanted, she hit me. She lost a bit of power in that, but it was a shortlived victory (this was when I was like in 3rd grade). In the future, she was going to master manipulation to get it her way.
That sister was always of heavy disposition, and by that, I mean she was fat. I wasn’t allowed to tease her for it. She was however allowed to treat me however she wanted. In time, she was going to be a really pushy person, and her antics would never be addressed. What she’d do is harass me and attack me, over and over, saying all kinds of things. I would just let it roll off my back until she went too far. Then I would tell my father but he’d do nothing. Then I would do something to protect myself, and suddenly, it was the two of us just bickering. My mother even told me that siblings just bicker, that’s what they do in healthy families. So, I had to tolerate her abuse.
Still, nothing matched the little creepy things my sister would do… the odd overly appreciative grins, the excessive doting in public, telling everybody how adorable and lovely I am in her school (my language, not hers), acting a bit too affectionate in private, and turning into a psycho when she doesn’t get it her way.
I’m not sure whether my middle sister had sexual interest in me, or at least was trying to emasculate me and turn me into he little pet. The obvious problem though is what adult is catching on and doing something about it? If you guessed absolutely nobody, give yourself a gold star, because that’s exactly what happened. Her behavior was often downplayed, or falsely justified way, or even compared to my behavior. She got away with almost absolutely everything.
One last complaint against her, and this too is important, was that she’d do whatever she could to get out of chores. Then my father would make me do them. He knew that she wormed her way out of it, and I believe he wanted to do something about it, but never got around to it. Once we agreed to clean the bathroom we shared and I did it my week, but she didn’t her week… nor for several weeks. Until the bathroom was so overly disgusting I decided that if I valued cleanliness I was just going to have to do her work for her. Sure, I was picking after her, but I was going to enjoy a clean bathroom, even though her fat butt was going to enjoy it too, and make it messy again. She was so excited about this and complimented me on it. My father actually stood up for me that once.
My older sister, the one who dressed me up in doll clothes, and of course reminded me of it, year after year, treated me with contempt. She’d play jokes on me and I’d fall for them but I never figured it out, until later, when I began to stand up to her, and especially when I complained about my middle sister.
In time, my middle sister started to take a more central role in my life, and in the lives of everyone. She was winning the contest. She was getting fatter and fatter, more angrier, and her victim complex increased drastically. I would complain about her but I was already so weak that I couldn’t really complain. When I did complain about her, they would completely lie about her behavior, saying I was just vilifying her, or that she was just kidding, or what have you.
After several years, and finally an adult, I was so neurotic. I was such a horrible mess. I was addicted to pornography, lonely, and chronically feeling like trash. However, I didn’t give up on my fight with my sisters. My oldest sister promised me that the middle one was getting better, but she was only becoming more vitriolic and cruel. Her antics started to be come more blatant and obnoxious and the lies so hopelessly in-congruent, even manipulating the material facts to make a point, that I could see there was no hope. By the time I was 25 or so, I told my sisters off one last time, and refused to talked to them.
It was so hard prying them out of my life. My mother would pull off tricks to force them back into my life. She would make me go to family gatherings (where I’d staunchly refuse to talk to them), invite them over, pressure me into dinner or lunch with them, and and then bring on the guilt trips and morals like non other. I’ve never seen my mother act like this before then.
My ran into a girl who was nineteen. She learned quickly that I had serious family problems and I wanted to get away from them. Well, her family was very loving towards me, I learned so much and for once I began to heal and grow. Then we fell in love and I got married. Now we have two kids and a third on the way. She is very loving towards me and empowers me to be the best man I can be, developing my talents and intellect. Then we all lived happily ever after. The end.
OK, I lied. She was actually messed up, the oldest (and the responsible child) of her dysfunctional family. They were in massive denial and those children had already suffered serious neglect. That girl became my girlfriend out of pressure. She pushed me back into college. They convinced me that they knew how to be a good healthy family and extended their hand in charity to help me learn and grow. I took them for their offer. I felt so guilty about using this girl because I wasn’t interested in her. She was a dork with a few extra pounds. Though, she did have curves and considerable breasts, I was still obsessed with the perfect body thinking I would get my doll. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been so shallow, on the other hand, she should have respected my disinterest.
My girlfriend at the time was trying to change me. In her family, everything is about the mother. The Mother was in control of everything, and she was a neurotic beast. I could write a whole book on her. In the end, she turned out to be a very weak person, who was living in massive denial, was very jealous of other women (including my mother), and knew everything about my girlfriend and me. She even knew when we had sex. I could tell you more, and there’s plenty more, but I’m already droning on and on. In the end the family unit collapses and they face the truth.
At first I took this family for face value, but it wasn’t long before I started to see problems. When I moved in with the family (not just to live with my girlfriend, and to get away from my mother and the family, which was The Mother’s idea and not mine, and a crazy psycho schizophrenic woman who moved into the apartment below my mother and I, which was turning into stalking allegations), that very night, The Mother began to reveal her true nature. I wanted to get to bed at 10PM but when I proposed this idea, The Mother became defensive. I walked away wondering what happened. Then in my room she visited me and told me she was sorry. I then challenged her asking her why she was sorry, which she said, “DON’T YOU DARE MANIPULATE ME IN FRONT OF MY KIDS.” I responded by standing up to her and said, “I DID NOT MANIPULATE YOU.” This event became really important since it was her embarrassment and I never let it go. She struggled, and so did my ex, to keep their version the canonical, and my version some how evidence of how messed up I was. She was incapable of saying sorry and my girlfriend was incapable of standing up to her.
When The Mother realized I was a messed up person, she related with my struggles. She recognized that I had a pornography addiction (more luck than discernment actually), and she decided to send both me and my girlfriend to couples counseling. Since I was feeling so guilty for how I was treating my girlfriend (remember, I didn’t want her, but honestly, her affection was drawing me in and I couldn’t keep her away).
I think my girlfriend at the time just wanted the counselor to fix me up and turn me into a, “Man.” I would be her husband and then I do that sort of thing. She was a troubled woman who wanted to escape her family since they were messed up and she was the responsible child. The counselor was a bright man, sharp, and a man who was cruelly hurt by a previous marriage with an attractive, but narcissistic woman. He was very gentle with my girlfriend, and I held onto fear that I’d be identified as character disordered, and her identified as a victim, and she played that up, but I was also very chivalric, putting her needs above my own. I in fact did this a lot, protecting her from pain, but only up to a point. When it really came down to it, I couldn’t let go of any lies, or unfinished business (years of dealing with my sisters made it impossible to let by-gones go bye). As time went on, I became more vocal with The Mother and my girlfriend, slowly gaining ground and becoming increasingly critical of them. Eventually so much proof that they were seriously damaged people, liars, dysfunctional, and very dishonest with me emerged but because I was very hopeful that we’d finally be some sort of healthy happy family, I denied it.
The counselor actually just taught us how to both be good people, and not how to make something work. I became healthier, and stronger, and began to lose my need of The Mother and my girlfriend. We eventually broke up. Now The Mother has a problem. She no longer desires to give me charity since I’m not falling in line and I’m not picking up her silly beliefs. I’m still me, and I’m not becoming them. In fact, I’m becoming more vocal about my thoughts and feelings. They were so arrogant to believe that I’d abandon logic for them.
Well, my girlfriend, now my ex, found another guy pretty quickly and I was so heartbroken. She treated me like such dirt and now she was going to really let me have it. I quickly dashed that house for my father’s house who took me back.
I rebuilt my relationship with my mother under my father’s pressure. He seemed to have mellowed out and I give people the benefit of the doubt, hoping they’ll grow under my grace. He was just doing marijuana at the time so he was mellow, though it wasn’t long before I could see his anger and rage was still very much there. He wanted to push me around one day, and when I refused, demonstrated that he was mad by hitting my cup holder in my car (I was driving him home). I pulled over and kicked his butt out. He didn’t want to go but he did. We had an altercation. He blindsided me with an unexpected strike in my temple. I was dizzy but he didn’t follow up in time for me to recover and put up defense. I punched him square in the nose (he’s slow), and he bled immediately. Then he turned his coat and started acting like the nice guy, getting my glasses and things, but he was still going to get himself home.
Of course the older sister comes to pick him up (and later this is used to guilt me, though it doesn’t work, because she *had* to because of me). I moved out immediately and into my mother’s place, where I finished school, and found a job, which finally moved me on my own, at about 28 years old.
I missed my ex though, and was so sorry that things went the way they did. I blamed myself for not being as good as I could have been, but I was so frustrated and angry about how unfair it was. It was like, gee, I just got out of a nightmare situation, and suddenly she expects me to be healed in 1 month by promising me that I’m loved here. She had other demands as well, that were unfair, and dealing with her mother always worked to my detriment. She never stood up for me, and even betrayed everything I confided to her to her mother.
A rational person would have said that this girl is messed up and that he’d be glad to be rid of her. However, not me. I held on to it and hoped that she’d remember the man I was, what I went through for her. Instead, she just found a guy who had a nice easy life, was neurotic, and had a job. They get married.
When the news came back to me I was utterly crushed, and became very suicidal. I cried every day for a few weeks. Slowly though, over time, I began to heal, and began to see that my ex is not worth it. She was very messed up and her idea of a healthy relationship is very sick. She’s very gynocentric.
Ironically it was her mother who first started to teach me about the whiles of women, in how they control men. It was her who wanted me to start looking at other girls and see how they were manipulative, especially my mother (who wasn’t really controlling). Unfortunately, she convinced me that my father was really a good guy (despite the evidence, but remember, I was messed up really badly at the time), and that my sisters weren’t really all that bad (this was a time they were trying to get rid of me). The Mother was transferring badly onto everybody. She had serious problems. Eventually she divorces her husband and marries another, becomes a party girl (repression?).
So, I’m browsing these Youtube videos and a strange video about how female privilege backfires appears in my search for random things, by Karen Straughan. I watched out of curiosity wondering how this could be. Remember, at this time, I’m not really pro-male, but I’m pretty much a feminist. I didn’t comprehend.
I was blown away by Karen’s arguments. She had so much blatant evidence that it demanded a reversal of so many of my convictions. I started to watch her other videos. Then I started to watch many videos by Feminism LOL, the Honey Badgers, and so on. I noticed that they were always supportive of MRA men. No matter what, even when I think they’re about to ridicule men, they did not. After a while I began to trust them.
Later there’s a fiasco in avoiceformen.com. Feminism LOL said that vagina has now found it’s way into the MRA movement and that our only hope is MGTOW. I didn’t know what that was. Later, actually on the bottom of avoiceformen.com, I find links to Barbarossaa’s channel, and he links to other channels. I related with him. I saw what he was saying. I began to watch more videos trying to teach myself how to identify problems with women and what they’re trying to do.
I started to really reflect on my past an I realize now that I’ve had so many terrible relationships with women. I haven’t even began to touch on them here. I once got involved with a girl who had a lust for murder (she loved serial killers, and wanted me to be one too). Nobody did anything about that abomination, but I was considered for a bit obsessed with her.
I used to hate men, but now I don’t. I don’t hate the male part of me any more. I know what I am and I want to develop my talents and creativity. I’m not fully MGTOW because if I find the right woman, I’ll marry her. The right though, meaning she’s a woman of good character, intellectually honest, fair, hard working, and equitable. I don’t think I’ll find her, but I won’t settle. I know there’s no hope for that now.
I think I want to leave the states, because the laws are so unfair here. We men have gone out of our way for the benefit of women, and we’re only vilified further. All we want are romantic relationship but this is used as a lure to torment us and beat us up. The very women we trust abuse our trust.
What’s really sick is that all male things somehow require female moderation. Women find it scary that men have a place to talk about their issues. This is just a typical woman, not a feminist. If this is how things are, then our culture is seriously ill.
In the end, I find that there’s always some woman at the very center of all of my pain. If it’s not my middle sister, then it’s my girlfriend’s mother, of my girlfriend herself. My inability to accept emasculation and refusal to accept lies has cost me so much in my life. I’ve been reviled and scorned. Well, almost everything, since my father was a bully to me and abused me. However, I’m able to reverse my hatred of maleness and accept it.
I used to revile men and consider them stupid brutes, that I was better, and thus more deserving of pussy. However, the dumb bruts got the girls, and the girls called me a creep. I was nice to them, knew feminism and related to these things. I played into their character disorders, and support their defense mechanisms, even at times downright pimping myself for their sake. None of this counted though, because women want an idiot they can control.
I did the feminism thing. I did it as best I could, but it was hopeless. I was what women said they wanted. I did that. It doesn’t work. They will never approve of you. The problem is with them. They need to suffer the humiliation and surrender their defense mechanisms for our sake. Corporately, women are very damaged, and very narcissistic.
Topic: Intro
Hello everyone. New here; glad I found this site.
MGHOW since May of this year when I ended a 7 year LTR 1 month before I turned 26. It was a long, miserable 7 years. I just happened to stumble upon a video made by Barbarossa and it snowballed from there. I feel like MGTOW saved my life.
Topic: hello from Jack Reacher
I picked Jack Reacher because I saw the movie and was impressed with how the character was portrayed as kicking ass, taking names but not taking phone numbers from bitches. Anyhow watch the movie and you will see.
I heard a concept that was associated with Barbarossa, and it really resonated with me so I want to include it in the intro and see if it connects. The concept of not waiting for that mother validation from bitches because it isnt coming, you have to go your own way. That is really powerful and I wish I heard it 25 years ago.
I lost a lot of my life with drugs and alcohol dealing with childhood abuse and betrayal, from you guessed it, dear old mom. And yet my coping mechanism besides what I mentioned, was to be a white night because bitches couldn’t be wrong. Right?
So I made every f~~~ing excuse for their s~~~, including befriending a toxic feminist bitch for over 20 years who further polluted my identity and thoughts. Until I could not reconcile the contradictions of feminism and her selfish, bitch, entitled, neurotic behaviour any more and cut her loose. The most frightening thing is as f~~~ed up as she is, she is a major player in the feminist scene here, and I found many like her in the movement. And the awareness of how f~~~ed up these feminist “shot callers” are was a huge wake up call and turning point for me. These are the ones lobbying for legislative, educational, political and societal changes to favour feminism.
So now I am working on self sovereignty and detoxifying my brain of the feminist garbage, ironically as even many women are doing.