Subversive Rejection Feeds Misogyny

Another post by HyperSexualGirl got me thinking about the battle of the sexes.

Well over a year ago I had the best first date I have ever had. We hit it off, we shared the same philosophies and ideas, same favorite movies, same books, favorite bands and more. I couldn't believe it. Could my luck with women finally be turning around? All hints to the positive.

Before the date even ended, she asked me out on the second date. Unprecedented, I thought, this is new territory and it feels great! But alas, how short the euphoria would last!

The next day upon reflection, how well the date went, how the conversation just flowed, how we had so much in common, I realized that on the date something happened that has never happened to me before. She spoke in language that connected with my soul. The way she formed her sentences, the way she put her words together and the way she expressed her ideas, it turned me on! My heart and mind felt relieved that maybe I had finally found The One. Her personality was truly that attractive to me. I felt so blessed to have met this person!

Resisting the foolish temptation to become her husband in my imagination, and not wanting to seem desperate, I waited until the next day after to call and thank her for a great date. Just a regular message: hey it was great I had an awesome time, looking forward to seeing you again. Not overbearing, not over the top, not over-impassioned, not psycho, just casual.

Contrary to all prominent indicators, however, she never called me back.

Three weeks later she finally emailed me (what could be more cowardly?) saying she got back together with her "ex" and that I was a "great guy" and all that. Now, it's fine for her to get "more serious again" with her ex, but what she doesn't know is that we have mutual friends... And there is no ex!

Was she suffering from an utter lack of integrity? Did she flat-out lie? Was it all because I didn't kiss her after the date? If only she'd tell me the truth. I knew the ex story was BS, and leaving me for three weeks to contemplate why I might be getting blown off after such a great date was just absolute cruelty. Was my time and emotions not even worth a 15-second return phone call?! Apparently not, and it amounted to absolute disrespect.

Despite my determination to not blame all women for the pain and anguish caused me by the few, stuff like this plays tricks on one's mind. It fucks with your self esteem, diminishes your self worth. The guy comes away with nothing positive, nothing constructive, no advice or direction to learn from the experience. The guy is left with nothing more than one big "WHAT THE FUCK?!" and that's only one step away from saying "FUCKING LYING BITCH" and that happens enough times and the next step is "FUCKING WOMEN" because the culmination of experiences has no positive return for your emotional investment. All you get is confusion, wasted time, and the painful conclusion that you must have gotten rejected. The let down is a thousand times worse, because not only are you rejected, but you didn't even get the respect of her honesty, which could have saved you thinking about her so much, all that empty wishing, the hoping beyond hope that it's REAL this time.

In some ways I believe this reactive misogyny has happened to me. I have been deceived and hurt so many times by women: blown off, given the wrong phone number, told "yes" to a date then they drop off the face of the earth... one woman even gave me her boyfriend's phone number! Now it's hard to think of a more dishonest, disrespectful, manipulative, cruel and inhumane way to treat another human being. To use me as an instrument of jealousy, to realize rejection in the form of the threat of violence: "I'll kick your ass for asking out my girlfriend!"

Ladies, understand that by not having the GUTS to tell us men the truth when it comes to how you react to our advances, you are only doing humankind a terrible disservice, and merely making peace and love an even more distant dream. Men who face constant and continuous rejection without courtesy or explanation, become the Hitlers, Kilmer Rouge, and Ted Bundy's of the world.

Yes, women, believe it or not you do have that much power. Please use it wisely, and just be honest with men.

Thanks.

Forced Objectification

I was thinking more about misogyny and yesterday's post, and decided I had more to say to get my mind around this.

My bad luck with women has led to a total loss of faith in the female species. I keep telling myself that I can't blame all women for the heartache and pain cause by those in the past, and that I need to move on. But the problem is that my relationships with women have only gotten more fake, contrived, and more difficult to understand. Things have not gotten better as I've gotten older, which is contrary to my life philosophy. Life is supposed to improve. Relationships are supposed to grow from one to the next, only that hasn't been the case.

Seven years ago my heart was utterly destroyed by a woman whom I was madly in love with. Her callous, casual way of breaking it off really devalued what we had had together, from my perspective. She did not honor or respect our connection, and the pain from the way she left me has remained unhealed. After seven fucking years, I am still a shell of a man.

Since then I have been unable to secure so much as a second date, let alone have a deep and meaningful relationship to help steer me away from the despair that she left me in. Something to help restore my self confidence, and perhaps most importantly, restore my faith in women. Because from where I'm standing, looking back on this road I have traveled, it would be hard for me to believe any of them had a heart. And that leaves me in this ridiculous state of self-pity, desperately hoping some fantastic woman who truly cares about me will somehow come along, someone who will rescue me like on e-fucking-Harmony. But that is a pipe dream that I cannot continue.

So they see the bitterness and hatred, they see that I am jaded, and they must think, "ahh, no pussy for him." Then they might think to themselves that I objectify women once they see how desperate I am. And women do have this sixth sense for desperation, like dogs can smell fear, and as soon as she notices you staring at her cleavage, or catching a glimpse of other women in the room, she might call you a womanizer, a pig, or a jerk... or maybe she'll slap you, dump her drink over your head. Why not humiliate you? After all, it is her right.

Now this is where my misogynistic feelings really start to boil, when I realize that women objectify themselves, but then demonize men for reacting to it naturally. It is such a double edged sword, yet some men have learned to play the game masterfully. They get pussy by not acting like they want it. They get her to think getting laid was her idea. It's amazing. Only thing is I'm not that guy. That's too dishonest for me, too much of a charade. So instead I end up glancing too much, too often, or too long, at whatever irresistibly sexy part she's got out for display, and then I get placed squarely into the NO PUSSY ZONE.

It's like they're fishing without a hook. They'll tease me with the bait, but they don't really want to catch me. So I get no action once again, go to the strip club and then home to porn surf... and hey guess what, all I'm getting out of the deal is OBJECTS. Is there any question why women are objectified?

On Gayness and Misogyny

Misogyny is defined as the hatred of women. So, what about sexual hatred of women? I had this thought the other day, as I was reflecting on my path to get where I am now with my sexuality. I wondered if my bisexuality is just a natural outcome of my failures with women. Am I so embittered and hurt that I'm intensifying my gay urges, focusing on them, when it's nothing more than pure, unmitigated desperation?

Women always seem threatened by me. I am an intense person, yes, but I think that my outward honesty and the fact that I "wear my emotions on my sleeve" just turns them off. Women have an uncanny way of being able to sniff out my desperation, so it has a snowball effect. The less I get laid, the less chance I have of getting laid. It is one of life's cruel ironies. I don't know if I have an angry or violent vibe (with what I've been through I suppose I do), but I always strike out with women. I have not had a relationship in seven years, though I have been "dating" this whole time, and that's a whole other tragic story too lengthy and off-topic for this post.

A few years ago when I was exploring my inner feelings, mustering the courage to face my gayness, I asked a gay friend of mine how and why he knew he was homosexual. He said, "I'm gay because of my mother." I didn't question his reason, or ask him to go into it further. I wish I had now, because I wonder if his gayness is an expression of misogyny. Did something happen to make him hate his mother, and that hatred now extends to all women? Or was he merely saying that she gave him the "gay gene"? Regardless, the whole idea of blame in being gay doesn't make sense to me anymore. Blame is nothing more than a transference of guilt.

As I become more distanced, more lonely, more desperate, I become less and less attractive to women. This leads to a feeling of helplessness, because each interaction with women becomes worse than the last. Soon I am practically weighing jail time against pussy. Should I just get a whore, or worse, rape my way to satisfaction? With the seemingly impossible task of ever getting any pussy again in my life, cock gets more attractive by the minute.