Writings On Man, Masculinty And The Emerging Patriarchal Renaissance

Confidence, Not Notch Counts, Make The Man

Maximus Decimus Meridius | December 16, 2017 | 17 minute read

Despite all the knowledge now available from Red Pill / Game gurus to show you the path, there are young men who still just don't get it.

And by get it, I mean have some basic, foundational, confidence in themselves.

I go a fair way back in the sphere. Not as a writer, but just another guy trying to figure out how to get a girl. Yes, that belies my generation. I am an X'er, second in the firing line after Boomers for screwing things up. But note what I left open for you to interpret about my perspective in how I wrote about why I came to and discovered "the sphere," the red pill, and becoming a Man.

just another guy trying to figure out how to get a girl

What do I mean by get? Get laid? To a young Red Pill man of the 21st century, THAT is the only possible answer now.

To me... I wanted a girlfriend. Someone who could be a potential partner in life, a wife, a mother to my children.

Was I blue pill in my youth? A beta? Most would say I was, but that depends on what perspective you take when you look at a woman you are attracted to or interested in.

Are you looking to just fuck her, or are you looking to pass on genes with her?

If there was ever a Gen X film, a cultural turning point that shows the dividing line between X'ers and Millenials... this film is it.

Most guys younger than me and Red Pill'ed will see Vaughn's character as the one to emulate, the Red Pill guy who "gets" women and female nature. Favreau is the trad-con blue pill beta that is in need of rescuing from "love" suicide (called oneitis) with a stiff shot of "git yer dick wet."

I on the other hand see the opposite. It is Favreau that sees the problem in Vaughn's constant need to chase pretty birdies, to spin plates, to be the confident 'alpha' male that gets the girls and needs to have the attention all on him. This film WAS the questioning of "which way forward" for my generation. We could now have sex before marriage, it was no big deal, but a choice to live a life of constant partying and chasing pussy was seen as being... childish. And thus not what a Man, capital M, does when he grows up and finds confidence in himself with women.

The end scene above is one of confidence. One man finds it in his pants, the other in his heart.

One in validation BY the female (getting laid), the other in validation OF himself (I can handle this).

Story time. Not stories of sexual conquest, but conquests I did not recognize and let pass me by.

I lost my virginity at 35... but could have lost it many times far earlier in life. Why didn't I?

I write first and foremost for myself most days. I am pretty sure it is clear my blog is not out to hustle you. I write because I feel compelled to try and understand the path my life has taken and why. In doing so, I hope to provide younger men with an alternative to the YOLO Playboy lifestyle, or the angry and solitary MGTOW monk cave.

The nurse who fell in love with Zorro.

Fell in love? Yea right.

I was invited to a Halloween house party in my mid 20s. I was just becoming more social, being introverted by nature. I HATE dressing up. I don't know why, I just do. But for this party, I decided to try and be more "social" by actually coming in a costume to a Halloween party. Zorro seemed heroic and dashing. I found a cape, a mask and voila!

As the night progressed, I wanted to do some dancing. I had been taking salsa lessons and brought some music along. I asked if I could give it a go and the host said light up the floor. So I flourished my cloak, moved the coffee table out of the way and proceeded to ask a lady in attendance to give dancing a try.

She seemed to enjoy it! (They always do.) I had my eye on her and thought this was a good way to break the ice. We chatted, the party continued on and at the end of the night, I confidently walked up and asked for her phone number. She wrote it down and I called later that week to setup a date (yes... I use that word and still do).

At the end of the date, I was driving her home. It had gone well, but I was of the mind that this girl was not for me. Cute, fun but... meh. When we got to her apartment, she invited me up. I was like "Sure... ok." and followed her into her lair. I walked in, looked around, and she proceeded to show me "the bedroom" and went all quiet. As I continued to look around...

I saw a photo of a guy I saw at the Halloween party when I got her phone number... a guy standing RIGHT NEXT TO HER when I asked... and then WATCHED as she wrote it down and gave it to me.

I picked up the photo... looked at it... looked at her and said...

"Is this your boyfriend?"


No judgement. Just shook my head and said goodnight.

My question to myself? Could I have fucked this girl?

Alone. After 10 pm. No one in the apartment but the two of us after a night of clubbing and dancing. SHE... invited ME... up to her APARTMENT... to CONTINUE the evening just a little longer... and walked me STRAIGHT INTO HER BEDROOM.

Yea. Pretty sure I could have fucked that girl.

I left and never called her again.

Still a virgin.

South American blonde bombshell.

If you know what thigh-gap is, you know this girl was tight, tall and blonde. Need I say more?

I met this one during a summer I volunteered to help immigrants learn English as they got settled into Canada. It was at a house party and she spoke very little English. Being the gentleman that I am, I tried my best to communicate. I was always sincere and genuinely curious about her. No Zorro clown schtick this time. Just a tall Canadian guy being confidently social with a girl.

She seemed to give me some good eye contact. My gut screamed... I need to get her number. I tried. I got it. I setup a date.

Same thing as girl above. This time it was mid-summer afternoon. I can't remember what we did, but I DO remember being asked by this girl to walk her up to her apartment. "Sure... ok."

Nice apartment. I asked if her roommates were in (or how many she had, can't remember) and she said in broken Span-glish... "No one here."

Quiet girl... but relaxed, comfortable and in no hurry for me to move on. Standing... waiting.

I kissed her on the forehead and said I would like to see her again. I really did like her. I wanted to date her.

Never got a call back.

My question to myself? Could I have fucked this girl?

Maybe if I had kissed her... but I did not. Looking back now... it was the EXACT SAME vibe as the first girl above.

So yeah... pretty sure I could have fucked her to.

Still a virgin.

LavaLife sex adventures.

Does anyone even remember LavaLife? I think they are still around. There were no smartphones or apps yet, just online dating and LL had three sections to create a profile - dating, relationship and... "intimate" encounters.

I am no saint. I wanted a girlfriend, to get married and have a family, but by this stage and age I did just want to get laid already (cause I am an idiot, see above). I thought I would try out this "intimate" section. Got a few replies, and then a real hot spike on the radar. She really liked my profile and responded to my message. She told me her husband was simply not doing it for her and wanted to try something naughty (she loved the porn links I sent her). My profile pic was pretty good as I am in good shape, but she had no photo for me to judge her by at that point, so I asked.

Wow! Slim and trim blonde MILF. Virgin boy was absolutely stoked!!! Maybe a little TOO eager as she told me to calm down a bit... but... she still wanted to meet me. All I had to do was setup the coffee date.

What did I do?

I sent a reply with a date, time and place and then...

Look. I just want you to be clear about what we are about to do. You are going to cheat on your husband and while I have no problem with it (at the time), I want to be sure YOU have no problem with it. If he should find out, your children will learn of it also. Are you prepared to handle that? Are you prepared to get caught cheating on your husband and your friends and family to judge you?

I think you can guess her reply.

Despite my virgin status, I wanted to be sure SHE was ok with what she was about to do with me. She realized that in my asking, she could never do that to her kids (curious, no mention of her husband). She thanked me and deleted her profile within a couple days. Did she get horny and create another one later on? Did I simply postpone an inevitable cheat on her husband with another man? I will never know. As for my self, I am GLAD I killed this possible chance to get laid. I am GLAD I am NOT one of those guys, a guy who slips it in another man's girlfriend/wife. I probably never was that kind of guy, otherwise, I would not have fucked this up.

My question to myself? Could I have fucked this girl?

Maybe. I got horny desperate with her... but she was still COOL and WANTED to meet me, just be patient. All I had to do... was setup the coffee and meet with her and THAT was a 100% guarantee. From what I know of girls, if she WANTS to fuck you, you really can't fuck it up. Considering how I pulled the above two women, I am pretty sure that when I met this girl IN PERSON, I would have been fucking in-like-Flyn.

So yeah... I THINK I could have fucked this girl too.

Still a virgin.

The MILF who thought she was Samantha.

Sex In The City. Is there a TV show that men can point to as being MORE responsible for infecting western women with the fantasy of riding the cock carousal?

There is some truth to the advice to stay away from girls who dance salsa. I was getting pretty good and tried for many girls. Took many out on dates, but no relationships. Then... this new girl came into the scene. Recently divorced. Pleasant and in good shape. Around my age (early 30s). She invited me to a house party. I said "Sure... ok." It was a pleasant evening. We chatted a bit, but I was not interested in a divorced woman with kids. NEVER going there.

One night later out at a club dancing, she asked to dance what is called bachatta.


So... we danced... and she proceeded to give me what I now know are called bedroom eyes. I was still a naive guy... but you can't really be THAT naive. I knew something was fucking going on... cause I could see it in her EYES and feel it on my THIGH. Who needs a thigh master when you have a guy to bachatta with?

I might not have known EXACTLY what was going on... but I knew I needed to make MY position pretty clear.

I looked her STRAIGHT in the eye and said nothing... I did not have to. She could SEE there was NOTHING that was EVER going to happen with me. Without having to say a SINGLE word, I communicated... "Just WTF do you think you are doing? That shit don't fly with me."

The dance finished and every time we met after that, it was awkward. Not for me, but for her. She even completely fucked up my attempt with a girl I DID want to date. You can read that story here, just scroll down to the Latina section.

My question to myself? Could I have fucked this girl?

I don't know. Not as clear as the three examples above but... considering the subsequent "weirdness" AFTER I made it clear that night dancing with her I was NOT one of those guys (a DTF - down to fuck - dude)...

Yup. Single mother, salsa dancer, looking for "adventure" with a guy who was "sexy" and she was "age appropriate" for me to "want" her. Pretty sure if I had been the typical guy she EXPECTED me to be - a man obsessed with getting his dick wet - I could have fucked her.

Still a virgin.

The girl with the hip tattoo.

Cute Canadian chick. Uni degree. Going to save the world.

Never took this girl out once. She always liked dancing and talking to me. Said one night deep in winter as I was bundling up... "You're so cute!" as she then reached up to kinda Mommy me and help me with my hood and toque.

One night at a social... she had a weeeeee bit too much to drink. Came up to chat with me and proceeded to... take a thumb to open up her pants a little to show me the butterfly tattoo she has above her hip bone, all the while standing as close to me as possible while doing so to make sure I could see it.

"Oh... that's cute." I said.

You know that vibe of a drunk girl... a girl who has "found her courage" with a guy she likes?


My question to myself? Could I have fucked this girl?

I don't have a fucking clue, but considering the above stories at this point...

Yeah... probably could have fucked her too.

Still a virgin.

So... what did I have with these girls that made them want to fuck me? (All in my mind of course.)

Was it good Game?

Fuck no.


I knew what I wanted... and what I did not want. Period.

That was it.

I put myself out there. I met girls. I asked for phone numbers. I went on dates. I COULD have got laid but did not.


I was looking to find my life partner.

A quick fuck AIN'T going to find you that. You have to find someone who WANTS to be with YOU... not your dick.

That is why I have never worried about getting laid or if I will get laid. Which is not to say my virgin status at 35 was not beginning to grind on me, it was.

At 35... I simply TOOK the next opportunity that became available to me.

That was it.

Keep in mind... I am introverted, not all that social (in the sense I don't need to be around people, but when I am I can interact and have fun), and if I had been more flush with cash during my prime years, who knows what kind of luck I might have had.

Can you talk to a girl?

Ask questions and be curious about her life?

Simply have the balls to ask for a number and setup a date?

Golly gee whiz Mr. Wizard... you must have "Game."

Which is not to say a man can't improve his chances by learning Game. I am not saying that. What I am saying is... without a root foundation of confidence, all the Game knowledge in the world will be nothing but a crutch, a rickety frame easily collapsed when challenged by a woman in a way Game has not taught you "how to handle."

You can't Game a woman on your confidence in yourself. Either you have it, or you don't.

This is why women react and respond so radically different to me than most other men.

I have confidence.

A confidence that is NOT found in my dick.

It is a confidence the majority of women almost NEVER see in a man, and with many women, it scares the shit out of them.

Just last summer, a girl I took out once crossed paths with me by sheer chance (or was it, God works in mysterious ways). She was an interesting girl, Eastern Euro, transplanted to Canada around 10 or 13. These girls truly are hybrids - one half in the old world, one half in the feminist but the old world seems to win out still.

I was getting out of the truck on my labour job to get some fresh water at the well.

I was walking to the well and this cute, if heavier, girl calls out to me CONFIDENTLY and says...

Hi Maximus!!! How are you?

Having barely glanced at her when I got out of the truck, I looked at her this time, having been caught off guard and wondering "Who the fuck is this chick?"

Do you recognize me?

I looked at her again... all the while I am still WALKING to my destination and giving her a CONFIDENT masculine scan, head to toe, tits to ass...

I look a little different.

No shit... I don't remember ever asking you out.... ooohhh waaiiiit.... I SAW HER EYES I SMILED and said...

I remember you. I never forget a smile.

We chatted a bit. She married a doctor. Had a couple kids she was with on the beach. The fresh one out of the oven in the stroller and... curiously... SHE WAS ROCKING THAT MOTHER FUCKING STROLLER LIKE A CRACK ADDICT. "Why the hell is she rocking that child so damn much? Why does she seem so bloody fidgety, energy just leaking out of her like like a Pokemon about to explode into action?

Always a talker this one. Fast. Quick. Told her about my trip to Japan and RIGHT AWAY she asked...

By yourself?


I crossed paths with her once more at the same beach. This time I was off work and out for a swim. I had just trimmed down to under 15% body fat and was almost as muscular and lean as I was back in high school. She had no time to chat this time, friends were around. She completely ignored me... I completely ignored her... and we were less than ten feet apart.

All she had to do was say hello... if she was "just a friend" I took out "one time."

She did not say hello.

My question to myself? Could I have fucked this girl?

Not when I was out with her. No fucking way.

Now that she is married and knows I am in the neighbourhood during her summer va-cay rental at the beach?

Do I really need to ASK this question any more of myself?

Strength & Honor

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