I walked away 25 years ago. I never looked back.
I was done with the lie that I picked the wrong one.
I watched my friends pick the wrong ones.
My neighbors picked the wrong ones.
My family picked the wrong ones.
My coworkers picked the wrong ones.
My classmates picked the wrong ones.
Even celebrities picked the wrong ones.
Everyone is picking the wrong ones.
The problem isn’t the men.
The problem is the women.
I lived through the wreckage ten times over.
The script never changes.
First it’s I love you.
Then it’s I love him.
Then comes the war.
You don’t do enough.
You always do this.
You never do that.
It’s always your fault.
It’s never enough.
Meanwhile I work.
I earn.
And I’m expected to beg for permission to use my own money.
To buy a car.
To live free.
I’ve endured false accusations.
I’ve endured car key attacks.
I’ve endured tantrums from women with titles and degrees.
Even doctors.
I’ve endured betrayal in my own home.
I’ve endured someone slipping sleeping pills into my drink to stop me from working on a Saturday.
Poison in the cup of a man just trying to live.
The sweet face you met turns into a tyrant you never imagined.
Dr. Jekyll hides Mrs. Hyde.
I watched how my mother treated my father.
I watched how she treated her boyfriends after that.
I watched how my father’s second wife treated him.
I watched how she stole money from him.
I watched how she divorced him after taking what she wanted.
I watched my brothers dragged through the same betrayals.
I watched their lives collapse the same way mine did.
I watched how my sister treated the three fathers of her three sons.
Every scene different.
It’s the same script with different faces.
It’s the same wreckage left behind.
Every ending, the same.
It’s all the same.
Different women, different masks, but the same games.
Sweet in the beginning, ruthless in the end.
I learned that charm is only the bait, dependence is the hook, and destruction is the guarantee.
And whenever you tell another woman what a woman has done to you, the response never changes.
She must have had a reason.
You must have done something wrong.
The man is guilty.
The woman is excused.
The pattern was clear.
It started when I was 17.
By 37, I stopped the madness.
I walked away.
I’ve seen men destroyed by women my entire life.
Eve ignored GOD.
What makes you think she’ll obey you.
Lot’s wife ignored GOD.
She was turned to salt.
Solomon fell to women.
Samson, the strongest man alive, was crushed by a woman.
The pattern never ends.
It repeats again and again.
For 63 years I’ve watched it.
Women destroy men.
And when you speak the truth, they attack.
Not all women are like that.
You hate women.
You picked the wrong ones.
Who hurt you.
Where do you find these women.
You allowed her to do that to you.
You let that woman rob you.
And don’t call me an incel.
Not because I cannot get women.
I’ve had many.
I only wanted one.
I married her.
She betrayed me.
She left me for someone she thought was better.
Then she left him too.
I’ve had girlfriends who were doctor, lawyers, singer-songwriters, actresses, teachers, classmates and neighbors.
Women from every walk of life.
I even lowered my standards.
Less attractive.
Less accomplished.
The result never changed.
The same chaos.
The same destruction.
The same accusations.
Over and over.
It’s the same thing.
It’s the same thing.
It’s the same thing.
Now I’m 63 years old.
Fat, bald, ugly and going blind.
And I still have women coming to me.
Most of them married.
Young girls slip me their numbers.
Girls in their 20s.Girls in their 30s.I know the outcome.
I’ve seen it too many times.
There is nothing in this world that can change it.
Nothing in this world will erase what is obvious.
Women are trouble.
They don’t want a man.
They don’t want a husband.
They don’t want a boyfriend.
They want his provisions.
They want you to protect them with your life from the first day you meet them.
And they give no thanks.
No gratitude.
For anything you have offered.
They wanted independence.
They wanted freedom.
They screamed for it for decades.
Now they’ve got it.
No men to save them.
No men to carry them.
No men to clean up their wreckage.
They begged for this world.
Let them be independent.
