You’re Not a Special Little Snow Flake and Your Self Esteem Is too High


I’m fully convinced that the entire business of psychoanalysis and psychology is nothing more than a scam to keep people reliant on so called experts to continually reassure them that they aren’t losers in spite making decisions that would indicate everything to the contrary.  Most people eventually realize that they aren’t anything special in the grand scheme of things, find a mate, have some kids, tend to some hobbies and call it a life.

At least that’s how it used to be.

But now, thanks to a mix of factors that include but are not limited to technology’s democratization of the ability to make one’s voice heard, the school system’s treatment of mediocre achievements as if they are Pulitzer Prize winning works, the equal acceptance of any and all lifestyles and cultures and the inability to tell people when they just plain suck, we have created a culture of smug narcissists who are incapable of looking at the big picture and see the world for what it is.

Case in point: the girl I went on a date with this past Friday.

I know what you’re thinking.  Edwin’s bitter that she didn’t put out and this is just a revenge piece.  But this tale isn’t told out of bitterness for, I felt, that, in spite not getting very far with this lady, I was still the big victor of the evening in the battle of the sexes for dropping a truth bomb that her therapist never would dare.  I didn’t even know she had a therapist until she admitted this to me after I made fun of people who see therapists.  Note: the disdain does not apply to psychiatrists since mental illness is a real thing.

Dates for me usually go like this:

I take a girl out, we get a couple drinks at first bar of choice, go to a different place, walk around the downtown area, I make some moves, we start kissing and then she either invites me back or says good night and we meet again or don’t.  This time, while she invited me back to her place to smoke some bud, she said she’s isn’t putting out.  Fair enough.  What was surprising was her definition of “putting out” meant “me touching her at all.”  In her words it was “too much, too soon.”  I was taken aback.  What kind of fool’s game was I in for?

The questions started to fly: “do you always do this?”, “do you always expect a girl to put out on the first date?” “When is the last time…” and on and on and on.  With a smack to the forehead and a slight bit of frustration at how this date turned into an interview, I sat down and said, “what do you want?”  She said, “I don’t want to settle. I want to see what’s out there and be able to date other guys.”  I don’t know what level of social retardation it takes to tell someone who you’re on a date with that you’re also going to see other people.  The correct response to any man you’re interested in is, “if you want more to happen, you’re going to have to call me again” or something to that affect, not, “I’m going to date around and see what other people I might make a connection with.”  On top of that, she added some psycho babble probably taught to her by her therapist:  “I don’t want to NEED to date somebody, so I know that I WANT to date somebody.”

This one wasn’t a head scratcher, but it was annoying; rewarded by men and an overly forgiving society for doing nothing more than being a woman whose one hobby is posing in fetish magazines for PLUS SIZED women, she “complained” that, when she went onto the OKCupid dating site, her inbox filled up with 200+ messages in the first couple of weeks and she just doesn’t have time address them all.  I jokingly remarked “I know some people who would love to have that problem, but I’m flattered you picked mine above the rest.”

So, rather than try to make it a romantic evening of smooching sans the sex, she asked me to tell it “like it is” from a guy’s perspective.  She picked the wrong guy.

I told her that, as a man, especially one of average to slightly above average looks, we don’t have it so easy in the dating world.  We don’t have the luxury of GETTING 200+ messages in our OKC inboxes, that is being HANDED 200+ OPTIONS.  That, when we’re young, the instruction manual to the opposite sex is fraught with politically correct nonsense that rarely actually plays out in real life.  Boys aren’t taught that the more attractive a girl is, even at a young age, she is given carte blanche to act as antisocial as she wants and have zero accountability for her actions.  Or that, if you pursue her, you WILL most likely get shut down.  That is, unless, you’re a wickedly good looking type or you’re the black kid in a mostly white school.

But this isn’t all about looks, is it?  She said, “I thought guys are attracted to a woman with confidence.”  Yeah, “confidence.”  THAT is what all of the overweight women in the world lack.  I remember reading in a Mad Magazine, I think it was, “the first thing a man notices about a woman depends on which direction she’s going.”  Society DOES NOT determine beauty standards; your penis does and is directly attracted to high chest to hip and waste to hip ratio.  Don’t get me wrong, I value intelligence just because I don’t want the post coital conversation to be full of “yeahs”, “ums” and “likes” and, on top of that, when attractive women get into male dominated hobbies such as comic books, video games or listening to heavy metal, their value shoots through the roof.

So men, through a potentially embarrassing process of trial and error or, if we’re lucky to have stumbled upon dating/pickup/seduction guide books, learn the rules of the game.  We realize that we should NEVER take what a woman says at face value; that “no” doesn’t mean no, it means try a couple more times before it really means no; that we never ask “can I kiss you” but we just go for it; that we don’t call back for a couple days even after coitus has occurred unless she calls or texts us first; and we keep our options open, and our standards at an acceptable level for how much bullshit we’re willing to put up with.  Higher the standards, higher the level of bullshit.  Ugly truths they are.
In response, she said, “I’d hate to think a guy is only into me for my looks.  How can a guy like a girl ONLY for looks?”  I told her that, if an average chump lucks upon a blonde, 19 year old bimbo with a great boob job and a killer body, he’ll MAKE himself like her.  He’ll turn that one night stand into a two year stand and put up with missing out on games, concerts and other fun events because what is his other option?  A man is most content after coitus, especially if he doesn’t get it that often and, the more attractive the woman is, the higher the contentment.  This is why men marry women who they have nothing in common with; fear that they’ll never get it again or from someone as attractive.

This is also why 36 year old women now are consigned to their therapists on a weekly basis; because the influence of feminism has taught them that they are “empowered” if they play the game like a man, that is go from one dick to the next, in spite the fact that they’re not playing any game.  For a woman to be slutty and call it being “empowered” is no different from kicking down a bunch of bowling pins and claiming that you’re a professional bowler.  Then, at nearly middle age, when all of her friends are getting married and she’s getting dumped AGAIN by another field playing 30 year old with a tan, a washboard stomach and a full head of hair, she will go to the therapist and he will tell her what a special little snow flake she is and to never settle for second best.

Well, that got me thrown out of her trailer, but at least she’s only 25, so there’s still time for her to figure all of this out, I’d hope.

Oh, and if you think I’m a misogynist pig for writing the above, then I’d highly suggest you consult this article from Huffington Post, which says pretty much the same thing.

One thought on “You’re Not a Special Little Snow Flake and Your Self Esteem Is too High

  1. Psychology and therapy aren’t about confirming your worldview. They’re about challenging you, about helping you understand yourself better and finding the fallacies in your thought. You go to a therapist not because you want to be told everything is fine, but so someone can help you see what’s wrong.

    Of course, some therapists are better than others.

    You’re dead-on about what it’s like to be dating while male. We don’t have the privilege of constant attention. We’re told to not be aggressive, but asking is a turn-off and making a move is a turn-on. So what do we do?

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