When Good Men Go Bad: How I Became MGTOW

[Mr. ManParticipant 2916]

Rebirthday Today is my rebirthday. Three years to the day since I walked out of a Sonoran desert canyon a totally new man. A man who, after a lifetime of unicorn safaris, found his own way to go. It was a painful, gut-wrenching process to go through, but the outcome has exceeded my expectations.

That Fateful Morning It was 4 AM Sunday morning and we were laying in bed, my arm under her neck, ready to roll her over onto my chest for our usual morning snuggle, when I heard her say in a cold, reptilian voice these exact words: “I’m not happy in our relationship.” I could tell from the tone in her voice it was over. There would be no we-need-to-talk conversations, no where-is-this-relationship-headed prattle. No, it was over. I was dumbfounded. Crushed. I shook uncontrollably.

I Was Marlin Motherf~~~ing Perkins When I met her, I managed about 53,000 acres of conservation properties in the Sonoran Desert; ten properties across thirty-five miles of desert backcountry and designated Wilderness Area. My job, my life, was like one giant episode of National Geographic and Animal Planet combined. I worked my ever-living ass off day in and day out, and could not have been happier. My normal routine included maintaining breeding populations of three speices of endangered desert fishes in two stock ponds on my main preserve, monitoring ground water levels throughout the basin, capturing feral livestock (in a trap of my own design), conducting annual southwestern willow flycatcher, desert fish, leopard frog, desert tortoise, gartersnake and other wildlife surveys. Oh, and there were lots of desert plant revegitation projects to manage as well. But there were also lots of buildings, fences, farm equipment, and irrigation pumps to maintain. I even had my own herd of cattle to look after. Had you asked me two years prior to landing this job if my resume would some day include herding, branding and castrating cattle, I would have laughed at you. But the very best part of my job was the summer field season where my preserve hosted a variety of scientists who were conducting research along the 85 miles of riparian habitat my preserve was located on. The place was absolutely alive with the most interesting people you could ever want to meet. There were spontaneous potlucks and beers around campfires; half naked undergrads floating in my topminnow pond; and warm beds with the aforementioned, slinky undergrads. But then the field season would end. The researchers, post-docs, undergrads and interns would return to their respective institutions and I’d be left alone. For months. And I got lonely.

So one especially lonely Friday night, after I had a few Fat Tires in me, I fired up the PC, saw that I had an Internet connection (Internet was very unreliable out there), and reluctantly logged in to Plenty of Fish. I’d already had a year of dates from POF, and based on the Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride experience that was, I had vowed to stay away from it and be content in my desert wilderness. But I couldn’t. My soul mate was out there somewhere. You can’t find her if you don’t keep trying, right? So I set my search criteria to include the usual no kids, non-smoker, college degree and athletic build. I searched Tucson, Phoenix and Flagstaff, all of which were several hour drives from where I lived, but it was better than trying to find an attractive woman in the hordes of toothless wonders in the small, rough mining and ranching towns nearby.

And in that search I found her. A waif-like creature seven years younger (she 42 and I was 49), a rocking, ripped body, cute face, non-smoker, no kids and a f~~~ng PHd to boot.

It was love at first sight for both of us. Or so I thought. We took it slow, but there was no denying she was the one. After a lifetime of searching, I’d hit pay dirt. I’ll save the details for future posts on how our relationship grew and then succumbed to the inevitable breakup two and a half years later, but here is the abstract that will paint a susinct picture of what I learned in our time together: She’d spent her life in and out of mental hospitals. Sometimes she’d voluntarily commit herself and other times it was state ordered. She didn’t come right out and tell me this, of course, she’d disclose tiny bits here and there over the course of the next two and a half years. But what are you going to say to these incremental disclosers once you are in love? As a man, an empath of the highest order, you say I can deal with this. She needs my love. My support. With me there will be no third suicide attempt, because I will love her so much that her self-hatred will fade like fog to a rising sun. I will be the one to stick with her where others have abandoned her. I will be the good man.

Within the first eight months she feigned enough physical and mental maladies to convince me to quite my dream job and move in with her to help her through her dark time. I thought to myself, what’s a dream job if you have no one to share it with? So I did the unthinkable, I quit my once-in-a-lifetime job and moved to the city to help her through her hard time.

To put a fine point on the following two years, what she really wanted was a sucker that would help her stabilize her life so that she would not loose her high-paying defense contractor job. That was it. That’s all she needed me for. Because once I helped her through the process of getting off of the f~~~ed up pharmacologicals the drug-pushing Psychiatrists pumped into her 100 lb body, and creating a stable, organized and loving home life for her to thrive in where she could find her balance, she s~~~-canned me. What she wanted was not a soul mate, a husband, but an adult caregiver.

My Canyon Metamorphosis After uttering those fateful words, I became some kind of emotionless robot. I got up out of bed and started throwing away everything I owned while she blathered on about incompatibility and other hamsterbations. But I didn’t care. I didn’t listen. I told her to get the f~~~ out and leave me in peace as I prepared to go. She did as told and drove off to her parent’s house. I threw away everything I owned except for my bike and a backpack with my ultralight gear in it. Then I rode for seventy-five miles through the desert mountains, in 100 degree heat, to one of my favorite desert places, a remote wilderness canyon that was my own personal sanctuary. I arrived at the trailhead before nightfall, parked my bike in Ed Abbey’s (look him up) old tool shed, and hiked into the canyon until dark. The first night I slept on a sandbar in the middle of the creek, unconcerned with the possiblity of a flash flood, and looked up at the stars through the cottonwood canopy and slept the sleep of the dead. This whole time I was in shock. I did not eat. I did not drink. I was experiencing some kind of waking night terror that transcended any previous spasm of angst I’d ever lived through. This was the purest kind of hopelessness. It was primitive. Reptilian. I pray to (insert diety of choice here) you never reach such an emotional low in your lifetime, because it’s dark place to be, and I don’t wish that condition on anyone.

In the morning I went further into the canyon to a place I knew well. A quiet place with ancient sycamore trees and cottonwoods that three people could not get their arms around. And through the foliage of this riparian paradise I could see the red cliffs above and forests of saguaro cactus beyond. The place is otherworldly. And since I was in another world emotionally, this was the perfect place to sort out not just what happened in Tucson, but what happened all the years prior.

You see, I’ve had to reinvent my career three times over because the skilled trades I dedicated myself to were offshored to cheap overseas workers, or because the local economy was decimated due to corrupt financial bubbles. But the epiphany I had in the canyon was this: career disruptions were nothing compared to the disruptions relationships with women caused me in the course of my life. From elementary school until the day just before, it was women who were the greatest source of instability in my life. This, THIS is what precipitated out from my pacing and mumbling and soul-searching that day deep in my canyon.

Enlightened, and with a new perspective on life, I exited the canyon. I rode my bicycle back into town, called my mom and dad back east, told them what happened, and two days later I was back in my ancestral home.

Coming Home I didn’t want to leave the Sonoran desert, it’s the place I love beyond all others, but mom asked, in light of what had just happened, if I would move home and help her take care of my feeble dad, who she no longer could take care of by herself. Shortly after returning I found that she needed financial help to keep the house as well. So in the big picture, the Tucson debacle was a good thing because I got to help where I was truly needed.

The Great White Unicorn Hunter I’ve loved women my entire life, even from a very young age. And I believed the hype that your soul mate was out there waiting for you, you just have to keep looking and trying and never give up. That, my MGTOW brothers, is why I have been married three times and cohabitated twice. Optimism can be a fault, and I am living proof of that. I’m happy to say that I’m over the need to be with my special Cupcake now. I returned from Tucson to the rusted, crumbling, post-industrial s~~~-hole that is Metro Detroit, a free man. I’ve since rebuilt my life, reconnected with all of my closest friends, and have lost interest in women entirely. Which is no easy thing. The first year I was back I had woman throwing themselves at me, which I’m somewhat used to because I’m a bit of a Chad. Finding women is not a problem for me, finding a good woman, however, is an impossibility, even for a Chad. For a while I thought I’d still have the occasional fling, especially while I’m traveling. But even that has lost it’s luster, because like you guys have said before, which hand grenade are you going to pull from the bag, the stable one or the one that will go off in your hand? There are no guarantees which kind you’ll pick up. But I could not shake the desire for an eventual hook-up until I found you guys. And that’s where the true peace of mind comes from, not just emotionally rejecting women, but still hoping for an occasional fling, but rejecting the entire notion of ever having a woman in my life. Ever. Never. Nada. THAT, my friends, is where true happiness started for me. And I would have never gotten there had it not been for binging on reading your personal stories for the last five months. Once I realized that no matter who you are — Doctor, lawyer, engineer, scientist, CNC operator, machinist, bricklayer or carpenter, you will have the exact same problems with women that all these other brothers have, rich or poor. So why engage these irrational, loveless beasts at all?

I will be forever grateful to the men on this site who have taken the time to write out their painful stories in excruciating detail, so that other men may learn — especially me — that they are not the only ones to have gone through the meat grinder that is a modern relationship.

Stay strong, my brothers, there is life on the other side of relationship hell.

[Jan SobieskiParticipant 28791]

Welcome home brother!

Love is just alimony waiting to happen. Visit mgtow.com.

[TaxGuyParticipant]

WOW. Thank you for sharing that story, it is amazing. It’s sad to hear how many of us have had a woman rip your heart out and show it to you while it’s still beating. I’m glad you found this site and that it helps. Thank you Keymaster and crew for giving us this site. It’s stories like this that proves how much it is needed.

And to all the women reading this, F~~~ YOU. And you wonder where all the good men have gone………

Order the good wine

[Anonymous 24]

Mr. Man wrote:

But the epiphany I had in the canyon was this: career disruptions were nothing compared to the disruptions relationships with women caused me in the course of my life. From elementary school until the day just before, it was women who were the greatest source of instability in my life.

The first year I was back I had woman throwing themselves at me, which I’m somewhat used to because I’m a bit of a Chad. Finding women is not a problem for me, finding a good woman, however, is an impossibility, even for a Chad.

Great story, thanks man.

Two interesting insights, the first one I think most of us here have had. The second one I had always assumed, because even Chads must have troubles too right? See, no matter how Chad you are there are always other Chads who are more Chad than you are Chad… HA! WE CAN NEVER WIN!

[Mr. ManParticipant 2916]

@JoeBauers, you are exactly right. All men cease being a Chad to their special Cupcake the moment they commit. It’s like some kind of natural law.

[HitmanParticipant]

really great story, thanks for the effort it took to write it.
WELCOME !

[CPT ObviousParticipant 2730]

That was five minutes of my life very well spent. Thank you for that excellent introduction and taking the time to write it.

My days of hunting the illusive unicorn are done as well. It’s akin to the story of Ahab and the white whale. If you don’t give up the hunt, it will eventually destroy you.

So welcome to MGTOW at the end of all things. You may have taken the long and painful path to arrive, but you’re now here. I look forward to reading more of your posts.

"You don't know a woman till you have met her in divorce court."

[Darth TyrannusParticipant 349]

Damn you achieved the dream most will never attain in generations time…
I do agree though that relationships are the worst of the worst and it sucks that you dealt with the crap but in the end? You achieved self-actualization.

[NerevarParticipant 8040]

Welcome, brother!

"One of the best things internet exposed is just how insane women are." - Freeman_K

[Anonymous 12]

Welcome and yes, women create MGTOW’s and f~~~ them.

[RoyDalParticipant]

Welcome!

Society asks MGTOWs: Why are you not making more tax-slaves?

[Anonymous 42]

Welcome Hominid, that was one of the best intro’s I read in a while! You’re a post industrial rust belt brother! Say hi to Terrance Popps for me, he’s in your neck of the rusty industrial monuments.

Mr. Man wrote:

I shook uncontrollably

That’s a classic breakdown, it sucks, I know.

Mr. Man wrote:

it was better than trying to find an attractive woman in the hordes of toothless wonders

Toothless wonders can be trusted a little more due the the fact they can’t bite, not that they wouldn’t if the could, but they can’t.

Mr. Man wrote:

career disruptions were nothing compared to the disruptions relationships with women caused me in the course of my life.

I can’t agree with you more, not even platonic friendships work, disappointment is all they have to offer, everything good is made up in your own mind then erased by reality.

Mr. Man wrote:

rejecting the entire notion of ever having a woman in my life. Ever. Never. Nada. THAT, my friends, is where true happiness started for me.

Same here, I’ve been going utterly detached from any form of anything a woman has to offer. I would rather pole dance a shotgun!

Welcome to extended and prolonged sanity! Welcome to MGTOW!

“Where are all the good men?
They’re MGTOW now, they walked away from your pathetic sorry ass! So go do your womany s~~~ by yourself and to yourself, become a feminist lesbian for all I care, you support and glorify it along with all manner of sickness, it’s only befitting that you become it!

[Red Pill SurvivorParticipant 21]

I learned that pu$$y are just vile parasites. No matter what U do she will seek a BBD.

I was always bewildered how easily a woman can just end a relationship with NO intention on fixing it.

When she decides it is over … IT IS OVER.

All my posts are my opinion.

[Mr_WhiteParticipant 48]

in a cold, reptilian voice

^this^ the paradox of how something so warm and soft can and will ultimately revert to its true nature…

Thank you for the articulate introduction, and welcome.

Let go or be dragged -Zen proverb

[Mr. ManParticipant 2916]

I’ve never been one to try to work things out. If the relationship is over, for me or her, it’s over. Has talking endlessly about the issues or seeing a counselor ever saved a relationship? None that I can think of. Damn, must suck to have that job.

And thanks for all of the kind welcomes, gents. It’s good to be here.

[CPT ObviousParticipant 2730]

Mr. Man wrote:

Has talking endlessly about the issues or seeing a counselor ever saved a relationship? None that I can think of.

Nope. It just prolongs the misery.

"You don't know a woman till you have met her in divorce court."

[505vikingoParticipant 521]

Welcome Brother,

You are fortunate you didn’t marry or have children with her. Life will improve by leaps and bounds for you. Sad occurrence but a good eye opener for you.

[Mr. ManParticipant 2916]

@505, I’ve never wanted my own kids. Ever. I had my vasectomy when I was 25 years old, so I was always safe from that particular land mine. However, like the optimistic dolt that I was, I did wife up a single mom. You can guess how that turned out.

[Mr. ManParticipant 2916]

Hey @MG, I did not know Terrance Popp is from Detroit. That guy cracks me right the f~~~ up.

[Author]

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