Among the difficulties men face after a feminized upbringing is that of finding a proper balance regarding to risk-taking. The caution the women who raised him can become internalized, thus making him overly hesitant to make the bold decisions required to develop into a healthy man.
However, many of these men find such hesitancy unsatisfying, observing that other men embarking on “risky” behavior do just fine. In an effort to not be so hesitant, he might instead over-compensate and become almost reckless. The internal voice that tells him not to quit his job prematurely is the same voice that tells him not to put himself forward socially or risk pissing someone off who deserves it. He therefore disregards this voice, not recognizing that sometimes prudence is actually warranted.
Hence my current predicament. Some time back, I returned from my Army stint in Afghanistan with a fairly decent amount of extra money, therefore having innumerable opportunities to embark on the sort of life I would have found fulfilling had I not either repressed my own healthy desires or viewed them as immature. Instead, I listened to the Feminine and decided to invest the bulk of my money into getting a nice apartment with pretty furniture.
It was only a couple of weeks after settling in that I discovered that “a nice place” wasn’t making me happy in the slightest, but I dismissed that as immaturity and a refusal to grow up. Nevertheless, the stuff I had and space required to house it substantially restricted me. After a couple of years, I transferred from an intensely stressful job to an insupportably boring one in a different city with the same company, but moving all my stuff made such moves cumbersome and expensive. Shortly after this move I discovered the manosphere and realized that I was actually right to resent all this crap I was carting around with me. Establishing yourself somewhere (maybe even tying yourself down) makes sense if it’s your objectively best option, i.e. you’re starting a family or you’ve found a place in which you actually want to put down ties. Neither was the case with me: I had little emotional attachment to my geographical location, nor was anything even closely resembling a prospect for a family on, or likely to be on, the horizon.
Instead of being able to save money for trips or socializing (or even the nebulous “future”), I had to sink it into rent for a place big enough to house all the crap I had. Yet my stuff was “assets,” and getting rid of it would have caused a substantial financial loss. So I muddled through, cognizant of the mistake I had recently made but also aware that anything I could do to counter it also seemed like a mistake.
At the same time, I was reading Captain Capitalism, Roosh, and others who were living lives of adventure, not tied down by stupid mistakes like the one I had made. Through a stroke of massive good fortune, I got a financial windfall that enabled me to consider other opportunities.
Of course, I had signed a lease that couldn’t be broken and got this windfall immediately after renewing it. I thus decided to muddle through for another year; perhaps something would change, or I would change, or something. Despite my newfound masculine boldness in social situations, something inside me still held back.
Finally, I decided to move on when the lease expired. I got rid of the furniture, moved out, and took steps to move to Europe. I secured (or at least certainly seemed to have secured) “location independent employment,” enabling me to work from wherever I happened to be. I made it to Europe about six weeks ago.
Unfortunately, I came here too soon. My “employer” kept telling me I was about to start, only to have me not yet start, then tell me I was about to start again, and again.
Obviously I should have waited, but I was so damn sick of waiting, and waiting had objectively caused me innumerable problems before. “Fortune favors the bold,” so I decided to be bold. Had my “employer” acted even remotely like he spoke, despite the other mistakes and strokes of bad luck that came my way (backpack with computer and other valuables stolen while visiting my father before I came here), everything would have worked out, but he didn’t and I did make some mistakes, so it didn’t work out.
So, if neither one of two things happens by Sunday, I have to return. I’m debt-free but without definite prospects for income (I’m still about to start my job “soon”). Unfortunately, my car in the States is really old so I’ll probably have to take out a loan to get a new one (one of the advantages of Europe is no car needed). Therefore, I will once again be starting anew, slowly positioning myself again to be able to once again take the steps I want to take some time down the road. However I’m not without prospects and talents I didn’t have (or know about) before, so this time it might not take quite so long.
Still, it’s frustrating to know that I’m still working on trying to find a coherent balance between taking bold decisive steps and prudence. I’m either too risk-averse and stagnate or too blind to risk and do dumb things. The voices that tell me to hold back have kept me from doing innumerable things to improve my life, yet had I listened to those voices two months ago I would be in infinitely better shape.
I also wonder, has my feminine conditioning been so strong that I set myself up for failure? Has “don’t be too bold” been so deeply ingrained into me that I almost intentionally do “bold” yet also “dumb” things so as to convince myself to just keep my head down and stay safe?
Yet I tried, and I’m aware that virtually every successful man out there has made some dumb choices. I had some great times over here and also learned quite a lot about myself.
Still, I had a goal in coming here and it would have been nice to have reached it. I failed, but at least I did something.
Thanks to those of you who noticed my re-appearance and welcomed me back. I’ll respond to emails shortly.
“Risk” means sometimes it turns to shit. All part of the deal. Very few successful men got there without fucking up a lot worse than you’ve done, and usually more than once. As long as you’re not collecting furniture any more, you’re good.
I’m still about to start my job “soon”
Europeans have to be gamed like women. You can pay them like prostitutes. You can befriend them. You can use Preselection and Dread against them. For example, you can subtly let them discover that you have other prospects.
Even the most successful of lives are full of missteps. What matters is how well you can pick yourself up and get moving again.
Was it rash? Probably. The job wasn’t secure, and you didn’t have other plans in place. On the other hand, even a “secure job” can fall apart under the right circumstances. And no plan survives contact with the enemy.
Only you can know that. In many ways we are our own worst enemy, and must confront our self-destructive nature all the time. Perhaps, as you try and figure out what will happen, you could spend some time reflecting on whether you are sabotaging yourself.
You don’t talk about your experience as a soldier. Given that soldier is a standard for manhood, I’m curious about your insight on the experience looking back.
It’s the first time for my visiting your blog. So I can not say “welcome back”. I definitely will come back here.
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Regret for action not taken is worse than regret for action taken, I’ve found.