A man who believes that I either require complete agreement with my sociopolitical views or constant intellectual discussion in order to be romantic with me are as deluded as women who believe that disagreement means that she isn’t loved or “respected”, with “respect” being either an entitlement, like chivalry, or outright worship by an inferior.
Whereas, personally, I can only tolerate being worshipped if I’m being materially compensated. Sex isn’t going to do it for me in terms of compensation. Compliments from strangers are nice but don’t really do it for me either. Encouragement to keep writing however is not only well-meaning, it’s nice, even if it isn’t enough. The real work has to come from inside me such that if I am to survive I’m going to have to manufacture a carrot tastier to me than the “satisfaction of a job well done” and affirmations from strangers.
Success itself is a chore not a reward which has thus far served only to attract to me supplicants and narcissists.
Newsflash to Feminist “submissives”, few “Dominant” men are going to settle for sex as compensation for the administration of 24/7 BDSM either. After all, there’s a hot twenty-something right around the corner offering the same thing you’re offering; and if you too are a hot twenty-something, that situation isn’t going to last forever, so, figure out what he wants. Hopefully, what he wants isn’t your life savings earned via the success that Feminism and likely your parents have told you that you want.
It would appear to me that men have rules of engagement with regard to intellectual discussion that allow for more disagreement prior to descending into violence or irrationality than women do. However there are certain rules and cues which hopefully result in some sort of authority or power interceding to calm everybody down before problems escalate. Often, the presence of “a lady” does just that because everyone knows that “ladies” abhor violence. Distinguishing a “lady” from a “slut,” “whore,” “provocateur,” or “exhibitionist” is an art all by itself, even if we’re all supposed to pretend that we’re all “ladies” and that we’ve shown up together as sisters and friends rather than fierce competitors for said men.
With women however, the discussion is often either a top-down “teacher to student” lecture, grandstanding, exercises in affirmation, or of course, “victim oneupwomanship”.
(Note to Feminist women reading this blog: Maybe one day, if you grow up, you’ll learn how to be a “man” without assuming that every challenge means that either you are not loved and appreciated, or that you’re about to be sliced to ribbons in a catfight.)
It is a bit of a mystery to some, given some of my experiences, how it is that I am not a lesbian. It is also a difficult concept to understand how and why my bisexuality has dried up. Given that it was sex which originally gave me a reason to live as an adolescent when I thought that life was little more than misery, pain, disruption, and being responsible for the happiness of my parents, the idea that I could somehow be happy, lonely but rich, never occurred to me. It still doesn’t.
Specifically, when I first started out with enjoyable, pleasurable, fulfilling sex (rather than the other kind), it became apparent that the demographic who gave me back my sexuality was probably going to die sooner than I would, or at least lose interest in sex. Therefore, it would behove me to plan for this possibility. I therefore attempted to become bisexual. I gave it a really good run.
Honestly, I do not know how you heterosexual men do it—women that is. It probably helps to have a whole lot more testosterone than what I have. Perhaps even your brain compartmentalization is superior to mine. Oh how about that! It probably is!
That demographic I speak of who rescued me consisted of very bad men who were usually at least ten years older than me but more likely twenty. If it weren’t for them I probably would have walked in front of a train. On the negative side, I began to believe that I was invincible because of them.
I had been lifted out of crippling depression and learned helplessness into a sense of invincibility by much older men. I also admired them and appreciated the attention. Moreover, unlike my parents, I was able to make them happy. In my other life, I was a high math achiever, and often one of the top three or so math students of the particular class, in the various schools that I attended, and sometimes the top student.
Now someone please tell me how it would ever occur to me that I should be interested in boys my own age?
By the way, when it was my name on the top of the list on the blackboard (that primitive display device in classrooms of my youth) alongside my test score to indicate that my test score was the highest, I would hear the sighs and cries of pain from the boys. This confused me. I was supposed to do my best such as to make the teacher happy. Right?
Meanwhile, none of these older men on my own time dared to claim me because that would probably have resulted in their arrest. Instead, they too urged me to achieve such as to be able to avoid “bad” men such as themselves.
Just how castrating is same-age co-ed compulsory education and the notion that it is peers who are best suited as equal partners in romance. What a load of crap as far as I am concerned but blame Hollywood and fairy tales for romanticizing the notion that a young poor man is the perfect mate for the princess daughter of a rich man, who has no desire greater than to be rescued from her father by such a pauper hero. Is this not the same narrative that is promoted by Feminism to young men?
So, is this the motivation which causes young men to believe that it is an effective courtship strategy to try to rationally explain to their female peers that they should abandon Feminism?
It would seem to me that the only man who has the capacity to penetrate the cognitive dissonance of a young Feminist female would be her own father when he gives away her hand in marriage to a man who he respects and who is not a boy, and who continues that lesson. However, today, thanks to Feminism, such a father is just as likely to believe that her own achievement will raise not lower her own romantic standards.
Meanwhile, since most women today are effectively and emotionally motherless and fatherless, it is often up to men to fulfil that role for her in some way, to include setting the firm boundaries and rules that should have been done for her by those parents. That’s a greater challenge and one that might be facilitated by D/s.
As for me, the evidence mounts that I need to reach outside of my own generation, and not to my usual reach (who, if they’ve survived Feminism with their balls intact, and are single, they’re probably longevity narcissists a.k.a. “vampires”) for a romantic partner as opposed to just a friend-with-benefits. Perhaps I can rescue a younger man before he succumbs such as to assist him to reclaim the masculinity he may have subsumed to the women of his life to include female authority figures, an ex-wife, sisters, daughters, and even professional subordinates, out of the misguided notion that to do so will help such women to achieve happiness through success. That way, assuming that he outlives me, he’ll be able to use the lessons he’s learned from me on younger women. Just a thought.