[2Wycked]

What are your parents like? What sort of relationship do you have with them?

[Handsome Creepy Eel]

Both of my parents are well-educated, middle-class people with accomplishments in real professions (not pushing papers or anything like that). My mom is currently the main breadwinner due to dad having retired early, but their earnings were similar for the most of my lifetime. Dad did a bit more than 50% of housework when they were both working, but it didn't seem to make him a kitchen bitch or anything. Mom was always grateful for it, which would be tremendously rare among modern women.

Their relationship seems good. There certainly were periods of strife, but it was more general shouting over household chores or some major life issues rather than violence, threat of divorce or high-profile shit. They get along well and both maintain some mutual and some separate activities. Both are introverted people, with not more than a few friends each, and my extended family is likewise small. Their worst flaw as parents was being overachievers, who often put serious stress on me because of getting some Bs and Cs. I dealt with it by avoiding drama and respectfully standing my own ground, and these issues went away when I went to college. They were always generous financially with things I needed, but stingy with money for my own consumption and fun. I think that worked out well.

Mom is a bit overprotective, but kind and intelligent. Her personality is low-key and amiable. She also looks amazing for a woman her age (60) and, while old, would certainly be in the top 10% for her group and could put many younger women to shame. She doesn't work out or use much makeup (although she dyes her hair, obviously), she just watches what she eats. For this reason, I don't really understand why dad has taken up late-night porn of late. He has had some health problems of late but he is still in reasonable shape (only a small gut, maybe 10 lb. overweight) and their physical relationship looks good otherwise. Dad is a classic Beta - hardworking, smart and supportive, with many interesting ideas but a boring presentation and an average sense of humor. Most women today would describe him as a "nice guy", I'm certain.

Both are completely clueless about the sexual market and its awful dynamics that my generation is living through. They've met through one of their family members in late high school and have never been with anyone else, so they imagine that most people live that way. This has severely impacted my ability to crawl out of the hole when I was celibate until 20 (their advice was always some clueless variant of "just be yourself" and "bring flowers"). Our relationship is warm but a bit distant - I have always been a very independent person and don't share many things with them.

All in all, I've always been grateful to my parents for doing such a fine job. If I ever disclosed this to feminists though, obviously they would attack me for "having an Oedipus complex and wanting women to be my mom", just like they would attack 2Wycked for "hating all women because of his past".

[Architekt]

Father is a quiet, smart, very hands on man, that's always been content with the status quo. Recently he's started to try push his career further. Almost always he'll be calm and collected, and, as a result, he's very methodical and logical in his approach to any problems. I have lot of respect for him, but I feel he's let himself down (typical beta) in other areas and probably realises it.

Hard to describe my mother. There's a lot of mental issues (bi-polar, depression, alzheimers, etc..) on her side of the family and it's starting to show as she's aging, but she's definitely still very much loving and caring for her family. My brother now has a 3 month old son, which is keeping her happy and occupied. Other than that, she's paranoid beyond belief - growing up in South Africa apparently took its toll. She was thin and fit when she was young (may have been a gymnast if I recall correctly), but gained weight not long after I was born. She had 2 other children before me and we all had different fathers

As a combined unit, they worked pretty hard as parents and I'm not sure I would have made it particularly easy for them. They spent a lot of their time working to support the family (which I'm sure could have been remedied with some smarter life choices in all honesty), meaning I spent a lot of time in random places while they were between shifts (usually one worked nights, the other days and my siblings had already moved out) and they spent a lot of time sleeping or working when I was at home. Not the best set up, but at least I never starved.

[AnonymousBosch]

I'm enjoying these stories a lot. It's interesting to see if there's commonalities as to what creates a player.

Sorry about the length, but my relationship with my parents was complicated.

Dad was a photographer at uni in the 1960's, and knocked up my mother, who was an Art Student. He was 18, she was 16. She'd never been taught about sex, and was a virgin. Given the amount of naked pictures he took of women both before and after knocking her up - and trust me, I studied his B&W portfolios a *lot* as a kid - I can't believe he wasn't smart enough to rubber up.

Her parents were both hardcore ex-World War II vets so I suspect it was a shotgun wedding. (Yes, even my grandmother was that tough - she was a combat nurse and had a military honour guard at her funeral in the early 90's).

Married life didn't suit Dad. He joined a bikie gang in his early 20's, and took up a procession of extreme hobbies - trail bike racing, hangliding, car rally driving: most of my young memories are of avoiding being run over by cars and bikes. Mum was extremely-intelligent - I inherited it from her side, so they were a bizarre match.

We grew up in a rough housing comission area - the Australian version of government housing. You had to be tough to survive. Dad was a strong role model for me, but I never really bonded with him. He often seemed indifferent to our existence. There wasn't always food for us kids, and if there was, it was because my mother went without her share. If I went anywhere with Dad when I was young I always seemed to end up sitting in a car while he went inside different places to visit 'a friend'. All of these friends were female. It's only as I got older I realised what was going on. Dad had a *gift* with women.

The only piece of advice I ever got from him was when I was 8. I told him how two girls had been fighting over me at school to be my girlfriend. He asked who won, and I said I told them they could *both* be my girlfriends and they said yes. The next day, he told me that 'Glad Wrap was the school boy's friend'. I, obviously, was mystified.

The only other thing I got from him was teaching me the basics of guitar, and I'm thankful because that turned out to be gold with women, though I mainly-figured it out playing it myself through trial and error from there.

As the marriage went on, Dad got unhappier with the restrictions of family, after him and Mum bought their own house, and started drinking and drugging heavily. Mum was such a meek, quiet soul, that I literally have no memories of the pair of them ever interacting. Years later, I said I always felt she was invisible, and barely remember her during that period. She admitted she felt much the same at the time.

Eventually Dad started getting violent, and physically-abusing all of us. I noticed her reading a couple of books when dad wasn't around - one with a body hanging from a coathanger I now recognise as The Female Eunuch. Another was 'Fear Of Flying'. Then, when I was 10, my mother woke my sister up in the middle of the night, and we left with just the clothes on our backs and hopped on a train.

There was nowhere to go. The cops didn't care. There were no services for battered women back in the early 80's. My grandparents lived hundreds of miles away, but wouldn't take her in, as my grandfather said she was breaking her marital vows. My grandmother: "Oh, the worm has turned!" She had nothing but contempt for what she saw as dereliction of duty. This is why I get frustrated by modern feminists claiming women still don't have support and options. They are priviliged.

The St. Vincent De Paul Chapel took us in. Mum found a factory job within a couple of days, and she found a small flat in a rough area. She never asked for anything she'd left behind, child support, or her share of the house. She wanted no further contact with my father, and said "I know I can always start again from nothing", and we somehow survived. This is probably why I lack a drive for accumulating material possessions. They're not necessary for survival.

I learnt later on that Dad stole his best mate's fiance two days after we left, and moved her in. He never came looking for us. I made peace with him years later, after he dealt with his addictions and apologised, and see him now and then. I wouldn't say we're close. He's a lone wolf by nature, and, I guess, so am I. The dude is a master at game, even at 60+. His current girlfriend is younger than my Sister.

I spent my early teen years a constant truant, involved in gangs and crime. I met my oldest friend watching his 10-year-old sister hotwire a car. It wasn't unusual for me to be out til 3 in the morning every night of the week. Obviously, it was bad for me, but I also look back romantically on that time as experiencing absolute freedom, because I didn't care what might happen to me, even though I was desperate for restriction.

Nothing was said at home about my coming and goings. I asked years later why she never tried to restrict me, but she admitted she didn't know how, and just hoped I'd find the right way. From this, and other experiences and observations in my life, I honestly believe single women cannot raise male children, because the pattern of how they act out without strong male role models is utterly-consistent. Riding home after a bang, I still sometimes see young teenage boys wandering the streets in packs in the early hours of the morning, and I just know their fathers aren't around.

I was saved from crime by an older male mentor in a position of power who recognised my intelligence and steered me on the right track by giving me firm boundaries and expectations, which is how I eventually ended up being able to attend university, despite never having completed high school.

My mother meant well, worked hard, and eventually remarried a good man for a 25+ year marriage, but she spent her life working like a dog in the same factory until it closed. A year later, she was diagnosed with cancer. She wasted away over the next seven years. I spent a great amount of time looking after her, and have a lot of respect for her strength of character and how she handled it with grace and dignity, particularly in a world where people speak of trigger warnings, or claim traumatisation over the lyrics of pop songs. As she was dying, the Palative Care Nurse said "People die as they lived. Your mother was a tough woman."

A few weeks before her final coma, in a reflective moment, she told me that Feminism had utterly failed her in every way imaginable, and all it had resulted in was the necessity for all women to work due to everything being budgeted for two-income familes, regardless of a woman's desire for children. She said the need to constantly work for a paycheck had imprisoned and stifled her more than marriage ever had.

The hymn she chose for her funeral was the one praying for women to be blessed with 'peaceful spirits and gentle hearts'. I think I learnt game and masculinity from observing Dad with Women, but I definitely learnt about resilience from my Mother.

So, it was an interesting upbringing, though the weight of experience has given me gravitas and maturity far beyond the women in my age group, who still seem to be act like the girls from my high school years.

[neanderthal]

I used to think that my mother was the reason for a lot of the things in life.

But now I think to myself... Who's really at fault here now that I am aware of the root of the problem?

It was my fault for not being able to see the effects her behavior had on me. In life people will always do things that are detrimental to another person's state of mind.

We do the same to these girls we pump and dump. That's why older women don't go to bars often. They know what type of men are available for them.

Women see bars as a store where they can buy attention, love, affection a "boyfriend". All she needs to do is dress a little slutty to get it. But this same thing we call a "bar", has contribute into turning men into objects that can be used and thrown away. There has been countless times when I would get a phone number from a girl to only find myself with Radio silence on the other end. How you think that effects a man who is not used to going out and doesn't know how girls operate?

I was not what her actions were doing to me at the point she was doing them.

It's like when I was inexperience with night game. I would think a girl was into me as long as she stayed talking to me.(haha).Not knowing that this girl just couldn't figure a way out of the situation.

The only girls that are into me are the ones that go home with me.

[thebassist]

(09-20-2013 07:11 AM)AnonymousBosch Wrote:  

I'm enjoying these stories a lot. It's interesting to see if there's commonalities as to what creates a player.

Sorry about the length, but my relationship with my parents was complicated.

Dad was a photographer at uni in the 1960's, and knocked up my mother, who was an Art Student. He was 18, she was 16. She'd never been taught about sex, and was a virgin. Given the amount of naked pictures he took of women both before and after knocking her up - and trust me, I studied his B&W portfolios a *lot* as a kid - I can't believe he wasn't smart enough to rubber up.

Her parents were both hardcore ex-World War II vets so I suspect it was a shotgun wedding. (Yes, even my grandmother was that tough - she was a combat nurse and had a military honour guard at her funeral in the early 90's).

Married life didn't suit Dad. He joined a bikie gang in his early 20's, and took up a procession of extreme hobbies - trail bike racing, hangliding, car rally driving: most of my young memories are of avoiding being run over by cars and bikes. Mum was extremely-intelligent - I inherited it from her side, so they were a bizarre match.

We grew up in a rough housing comission area - the Australian version of government housing. You had to be tough to survive. Dad was a strong role model for me, but I never really bonded with him. He often seemed indifferent to our existence. There wasn't always food for us kids, and if there was, it was because my mother went without her share. If I went anywhere with Dad when I was young I always seemed to end up sitting in a car while he went inside different places to visit 'a friend'. All of these friends were female. It's only as I got older I realised what was going on. Dad had a *gift* with women.

The only piece of advice I ever got from him was when I was 8. I told him how two girls had been fighting over me at school to be my girlfriend. He asked who won, and I said I told them they could *both* be my girlfriends and they said yes. The next day, he told me that 'Glad Wrap was the school boy's friend'. I, obviously, was mystified.

The only other thing I got from him was teaching me the basics of guitar, and I'm thankful because that turned out to be gold with women, though I mainly-figured it out playing it myself through trial and error from there.

As the marriage went on, Dad got unhappier with the restrictions of family, after him and Mum bought their own house, and started drinking and drugging heavily. Mum was such a meek, quiet soul, that I literally have no memories of the pair of them ever interacting. Years later, I said I always felt she was invisible, and barely remember her during that period. She admitted she felt much the same at the time.

Eventually Dad started getting violent, and physically-abusing all of us. I noticed her reading a couple of books when dad wasn't around - one with a body hanging from a coathanger I now recognise as The Female Eunuch. Another was 'Fear Of Flying'. Then, when I was 10, my mother woke my sister up in the middle of the night, and we left with just the clothes on our backs and hopped on a train.

There was nowhere to go. The cops didn't care. There were no services for battered women back in the early 80's. My grandparents lived hundreds of miles away, but wouldn't take her in, as my grandfather said she was breaking her marital vows. My grandmother: "Oh, the worm has turned!" She had nothing but contempt for what she saw as dereliction of duty. This is why I get frustrated by modern feminists claiming women still don't have support and options. They are priviliged.

The St. Vincent De Paul Chapel took us in. Mum found a factory job within a couple of days, and she found a small flat in a rough area. She never asked for anything she'd left behind, child support, or her share of the house. She wanted no further contact with my father, and said "I know I can always start again from nothing", and we somehow survived. This is probably why I lack a drive for accumulating material possessions. They're not necessary for survival.

I learnt later on that Dad stole his best mate's fiance two days after we left, and moved her in. He never came looking for us. I made peace with him years later, after he dealt with his addictions and apologised, and see him now and then. I wouldn't say we're close. He's a lone wolf by nature, and, I guess, so am I. The dude is a master at game, even at 60+. His current girlfriend is younger than my Sister.

I spent my early teen years a constant truant, involved in gangs and crime. I met my oldest friend watching his 10-year-old sister hotwire a car. It wasn't unusual for me to be out til 3 in the morning every night of the week. Obviously, it was bad for me, but I also look back romantically on that time as experiencing absolute freedom, because I didn't care what might happen to me, even though I was desperate for restriction.

Nothing was said at home about my coming and goings. I asked years later why she never tried to restrict me, but she admitted she didn't know how, and just hoped I'd find the right way. From this, and other experiences and observations in my life, I honestly believe single women cannot raise male children, because the pattern of how they act out without strong male role models is utterly-consistent. Riding home after a bang, I still sometimes see young teenage boys wandering the streets in packs in the early hours of the morning, and I just know their fathers aren't around.

I was saved from crime by an older male mentor in a position of power who recognised my intelligence and steered me on the right track by giving me firm boundaries and expectations, which is how I eventually ended up being able to attend university, despite never having completed high school.

My mother meant well, worked hard, and eventually remarried a good man for a 25+ year marriage, but she spent her life working like a dog in the same factory until it closed. A year later, she was diagnosed with cancer. She wasted away over the next seven years. I spent a great amount of time looking after her, and have a lot of respect for her strength of character and how she handled it with grace and dignity, particularly in a world where people speak of trigger warnings, or claim traumatisation over the lyrics of pop songs. As she was dying, the Palative Care Nurse said "People die as they lived. Your mother was a tough woman."

A few weeks before her final coma, in a reflective moment, she told me that Feminism had utterly failed her in every way imaginable, and all it had resulted in was the necessity for all women to work due to everything being budgeted for two-income familes, regardless of a woman's desire for children. She said the need to constantly work for a paycheck had imprisoned and stifled her more than marriage ever had.

The hymn she chose for her funeral was the one praying for women to be blessed with 'peaceful spirits and gentle hearts'. I think I learnt game and masculinity from observing Dad with Women, but I definitely learnt about resilience from my Mother.

So, it was an interesting upbringing, though the weight of experience has given me gravitas and maturity far beyond the women in my age group, who still seem to be act like the girls from my high school years.

Just want to say thank you for sharing this dude, I really enjoyed the read.

[Kickb]

Mine are cool

[bacon]

The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.

I never knew my birth parents. There was a car accident. My birth mother was incinerated, and I only survived because her smoking carcass had formed a protective cocoon of slaughtered human effluence. A Belgian man and his fifteen year-old love slave were looting the accident scene, and came across a blood soaked baby, moi. They raised me to be evil. You know, that old chestnut.