Hey brothers, first of all, apologies for neglecting my contributions to this wealth of knowledge. I have been busy trying to acquire my first property and moving out. Thanks for your responses to my previous blog on cold approaches (and why they are so last century).
I have not always been an extrovert. In fact, in school I was one of the shyest kids out there. I was always content to observe the token hot chicks at school from afar and hang out with my so-called friends who I really had no interest in connecting with.
Tony Robbins says that you can do anything if you have a strong enough “why”. So, when I got to university, I intensified the pain I was feeling and used it to motivate myself to approach relentlessly. I would take up empty seats next to people and introduce myself. I quickly became known as that “fun, social guy from my psych class” and the title became a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Within a few months I was hanging out with people whose company I actually enjoyed.
Before I knew it, I was taking good company for granted and the five years of my degree had flown by. I took up a job in the city and started getting out into the real world. I started spending more late nights in the city. A consequence of this was that it took about an hour to get home.
Why do I mention this? More times than I would like to admit, I was coming home alone. Sometimes I would have new numbers in my phone or have “gotten” a random makeout (an example of my mindset at the time, subject of a future blog) and sometimes I would come home with no new connections. The former would fill me with excitement and a warm buzz. The latter would fill me with a sense of dejection and failure.
What was going on here? It is all too obvious as I write this: I was placing the responsibility of my own happiness on others. Do you think they knew this consciously? Probably not. But the women I desired probably felt something was a little off. Sure, I would “get results” if she was horny, but most of the time, the connection fell flat. I was psychic-leaning into her and she was not strong enough to support me (nor should she be) and I also fell flat.
So what is the solution?
(Warning: slightly metaphysical content ahead) I had to realize that I was using social interaction to fill the void I did not want to fall into. I was afraid of facing the pain I felt. However, once I realized this, it was a simple process of being able to sit with myself. And on the train home from work on the evening of my revelation, I felt the warm buzz I would normally feel with a few more numbers on my phone or lipstick on my neck.
I fell in love with me.
I looked in the mirror and grinned at the handsome, self-assured devil looking back at me. I felt so much energy coursing through me, I almost got hard at my own presence.
This revelation helped me in other areas of my life. My recent concentration which had been shot to pieces for the last few months started to stabilize; I no longer felt the need to check my MySpace or FaceBook to assure myself there are people out there who recognize me as part of their life.
Now the women I desire don’t lean back when I lean towards them because I don’t lean towards them anymore. They can lean against me knowing that I will not shift. They know they can do what makes them happy because they are not burdened with the responsibility of my happiness. Which, counter-intuitively makes them free to explore the ways to make me happy.
“Bitch shields” and “ASD” dissolve. They can admit they are attracted to me because they know my emotional frame wont collapse over them like a house of cards, much like a lady dancer who can give herself with careless abandon into a dip because she can trust her man will catch her with his solid physical frame no matter how she positions her body.
This is a profound concept but it can seem a little wishy-washy at first. So if anyone wants clarification I will be happy to answer emails or post a slightly more detailed post to follow up depending on interest.
Its good to be back,
Hatter
themadhatter@deservewhatyouwant.com
