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Lion and lyin’

September 11, 2013

The TRUTH is like a LION.

You don’t have to defend it.

Let it Loose.

It will defend itself.

-St. Augustine

 freedom sculpture

And so it goes.  I have am still learning to leave the B fiasco behind me.  I will just say that B’s ex-girlfriend, now friends with a good WK (White Knight) friend of mine are now F-buddies, and she isn’t nearly the batshitcrazy™ freak that B led me to believe.  Also of note, both of them work with B and the girls he is dating  screwing now… let’s just say either B is NUTS, he is getting back at his daddy by dating the most miserable whores he can scrape up, or lots of people need lots of testing for STDs. (The latter has been recommended to me by numerous folks via facebook or text – good to know that I was making supper while he was busy cutting another filly or several from the herd – as far back as when I was doing the “Women’s  Work” cleaning up the barn after the tornado…(Yeah, I am an idiot, please be kind and reserve comments on this topic. I was clearly stupid and too trusting to think that he meant it when he said all those nice things because he was all about “bang-a-bitch and go home to a nice supper”) All while of them he was seeing (not just when I was angry at the break-up and being told I am crazy) were bragging all over about how each had supposedly “won”.  Why is the innocent party always the last to know??? One in particular, was and still is very vocal about it, and I am sure her 5’6”-165#-three-kids-by-three-different-guys-Walmoart-workin’-child-support-collecting-gold-digging-doorknob-ass will be very freaking proud to learn “I have my own farm” doesn’t exactly mean he owns it, and he makes less money than she does:

 shit together

Funny thing about it, I DO have my shit together.  That’s why I am the one paying my own bills, and not getting banged like the old screen door at grandma’s house.

Whew, end of rant.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch… this past weekend I helped coordinate a motorcycle run of about a hundred bikes.  It wasn’t the spectacular sight that the “Million Biker” thing in D.C. is, but it was my first public event since before I met B.  (I am beginning to see how he socially isolated me.)  Here are a couple of pictures:

 flags 2

I am no biker-chick, in fact, I refuse to get on one, but this was cool to see and the proceeds went to a ‘Wounded Warrior’ Transition Battalion!

Nothing like reverting back to old habits; my entourage for the morning was the retired folks who helped make this event possible and I rolled (in my truck) up to the after-party with five little girls.  We were home by 4:30 p.m.  Single, and knee-deep in people who are losing teeth at an alarming rate, or as I like to call it, “Total Bad Ass”.

In my post-break up and STD-testing lunacy (yep, I did it because, yeah, sorta freaked out since learning the truth) I also agreed to cook the meal for 100 people coming to an upcoming Antique Tractor Ride.  All things being equal, maybe I have just gone back into the cave that I thought I had successfully escaped from where it is safe… Or maybe B did, but I have learned from the whole thing.

First, the comments from Peregrine John made an impact, and I present them here in so what I have to say next makes sense:

Of course it’s beneath you. Imagine a bunch of people stumbling out of the dark for the first time after discovering there is something outside the absolute blackness of their caves, where they had to rely on the unreliable good will of others to keep from hitting sharp rocks or falling into pits. Their eyes hurt like hell from never having been used before, the world outside is unbelievably good, beautiful, and safer, and the very people who tried to keep them in the dark – many of whom live there still – are trying to talk them into returning.

Each of the escapees thought they were the only one, and they’re collectively trying to make sense of what they always should have known. It’s all being figured out and built from nothing, and there’s precious little help from outside their number that is anything like trustworthy. Is it any surprise that their sight is confused, their development stunted, and their mood angry? Is it any surprise that their basic discoveries seem sophomoric to one who is used to seeing?

For what it’s worth, angry people unused to seeing properly have a strong tendency to go off half-cocked and make bizarre blanket judgements. It’s not right, but it is predictable. Reliable, even.

My little world of being a good mom, reliable employee and community steward is what I thought of as my cave.  I thought for a while that B was the “unbelievably good, beautiful, and safer” but maybe he was trying to drag me into his cave and I had been living in the sun all along.  Anyone reading is free to judge who is a cave-dweller and who lives in the light,  I am not in a place to make the call, and might not ever be, but here are my lessons:

Lowered expectations, do not equal success.  Without the smile and flattering words, I would have never ever have been swayed to enter into a relationship with a 29-year-old who lives under his father’s rule; whose only exercise is to swim in his own debt; and whose only redeeming quality was to relieve me from a life of carefully constructed personal solitude.

Compared to men’s lowered expectations in the manosphere my current disillusionment is nothing.  It has, however, led me to see that I need stronger personal convictions to what I expect in a partner, and I have to stick to them no matter what my dopamine-soaked brain tells me to the contrary. In a perfect world, it would have never come to this, but someone who at least in part expressed the way I feel said some of it here.

decent human

Viva, la Red Pill!!!

Stay tuned, there is a rant brewing that has to do with tractors and old people and absolutely nothing about B, because as I was told, “Stop shopping for your future by dewlling in the past”… xoxo



From → Uncategorized

  1. David Sutton permalink

    I am very glad you found your own “cave,” independently and with dignity. All of us in the manosphere are pulling for you

  2. I didn’t find a cave, I already had it, or I just came back into the sun, depending on your perspective. Either way, I am happy to have your insight, whether you approve of my choices or not. Thanks for your support, David!

  3. Peregrine John permalink

    So here we are, blinking and hopping on one foot in the glorious light, having discovered that you can stub your toe even when you can see the rocks. Hardly seems fair, though I know it’s a learning process. All my metaphor (or conflating of others’ metaphors) really means is that while reality’s a shock to the system in several ways, the worst is probably that the unreality was promoted by those you thought had your best interests at heart. And maybe they did, being just as deluded. But it makes one angry at the deception, either way. Like you said, lowered expectations don’t equal success. Or happiness, for that matter. (Thus the anger of the new members of the androsphere.) It looks like we can get accustomed to the light and seeing things for what they are, and I look forward to being able to do it far better than I can now.

    All I know is, with the way you’ve been, I’d have fought for you instead of against you. Ah, well. Here’s to whatever comes next.

  4. John, I am not entirely sure how the metaphor applies to me. Either I am running back to the safety of the cave, or I was in the light already and B took me into a cave. Maybe I brought him into the light with me and he went back to his cave (where daddy pays the bills and slutty pussy is plentiful). I have no idea what is happening now, what just happened, or what is coming. I just see that I can regain my life WGTOW being mom and having ho other close relationships, and it is lonely, but I do not get hurt this way. I miss having a specific adult in my life to cook for, serve and who holds me, but I have a replacement for most of that in the multitudes that I can serve. The only thing I can’t replace is the intimacy, and I don’t want to do that. Too soon. Not now, maybe not ever. I am not over this experience, not by a long shot.

    I leave it to you to decide for yourself whether I am in the light now, or in the dark once again. I only know it is comfortable, reliable and familiar.

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