Mitch Cumstein has a story about a careergrrl nursing pained regret that, while entertaining on its own, contains within it an eternal truth that CH house lords thought proper to feature and expand upon.
Off-topic…a career woman ghost story I thought CH and the readership would enjoy.
I ran into my ex at a party a few days ago. I haven’t seen her in a couple years, but she moved back into town. We used to date and she was into me, but she had to pursue her dreamz out of state. Career woman heh. We did the long distance thing for a couple months before it fizzled out. I wasn’t happy, but I found this site and used it to shed my beta ways over time. I learned to become detached and implemented tips and suggestions here to hook up with other girls. I even used them successfully on the ex a few times to hook up when she was in town, but only until it got boring for me.
So at the party, I was civil and brief. When I got home, I got a text from her, saying how great it was to see me. I texted back, “I did look good, didn’t I?” She ate it right up. Kept texting me for the next day or so, until I dropped the hint that I’m seeing someone and it’s serious. She went silent for about an hour. And then, a string of text bombs.
“I’m afraid that no one will ever love me like you did. When I was younger, I thought career was the most important thing (she was 23), but now, I know better (now she’s 29).” “I fucked up my life by choosing my career and now I only do it in hopes that it pays off somehow.” I poured myself a drink and just watched the confessions pile in. The last one was, “If you wanted to elope this weekend, I would do it.”
Years ago, I was devastated that I lost this snowflake. Fast forward to today, I sit amused as the clock is running out and she’s throwing hail Mary passes. I’m going to take the screen grabs, print them out, and show them to my future kids. To my sons: a lesson about oneitis. Life goes on. Half the people on the planet are women. Find a better one. To my daughters: a lesson about The Wall. It’s real and hits like a motherfucker. Play the game wisely and don’t be left without a chair when the music stops.
Don’t let any mincing manlet tell you otherwise; it feels good to have hand. Power always beats powerlessness.
Now, to the real gem in this post: Oneitis and The Wall. There are many lessons to teach your son or daughter, but these two are the most important for their future happiness. These are lessons that only a father can teach, because, quite frankly, mothers are constitutionally incapable of dispensing useful dating advice to their children, particularly to their sons. Restating Mitch:
Fathers, teach your sons about Oneitis. If there’s one lesson in love that will do them immeasurable good, it’s the belief that girls are interchangeable, at least during the time when a courtship is fresh and finding its footing. Later, when your son graduates to more serious relationships, he can learn to be more selective about the character, personality, and maternal instinct of the women he
games into bed woos.
Oneitis is truly the mind killer of men. Besides all the time wasted on THAT ONE GIRL who knows she’s THAT ONE GIRL and parcels her weakly reciprocated interest accordingly, there is the psychological damage Oneitis perpetrates against a young man’s self-conception. Oneitis is the opposite of that crucial alpha male attitude to cultivate: The abundance mentality. Your son will never have that “TAKE HER OR LEAVE HER” attitude that is so intoxicating to women if he pops a years-long hard-on for the red-haired girl with the jerk boyfriend.
Fathers, tell your sons, “Don’t get hung up on this one girl. I know what you’re feeling… I’ve been there. And I’m telling you from experience that you’ll be far better off, and feel so much happier, if you allow more women into your life, and don’t put so much of your faith and hopes in any one of them.”
After teaching your son about Oneitis, teach him about Game.
Fathers, teach your daughters about The Wall. So much regret, spinsterhood, low fertility, and smelly cats can be avoided if young women are sternly and firmly warned against the danger of waiting too long for the right man. Use stark, unsparing language, if necessary. You’d be surprised how much of what you say sinks into their minds, even if in the moment they appear to not be hearing you at all.
Daughters must be cautioned to USE IT OR LOSE IT. Tell her with uncompromising bluntness that she is pretty now, and all the boys notice her, but her prettiness will disappear faster than she knows (or can possibly know at her tender age), and there will come a time, always much sooner than she had hoped, when none of the boys will notice her. And when that time comes, if she doesn’t have a loving husband by then, the rest of her life will be a horrifying trial of inescapable sorrow.
After teaching your daughter about The Wall, teach her about jerkboys and niceguys, and how you know she’ll fall hard for the former, but she must seriously consider giving the less exciting boys a shot, and to be patient with them as their self-confidence grows into adulthood. Tell her, if she does fall deeply in love with a jerkboy, to be certain he is the kind of jerkboy willing to commit to her, and to be aware of the other kind of jerkboy who will most certainly break her heart, if not her body, and leave her less attractive to better men after he is gone.