“… trying to be me, oh, it ain’t easy…”

 

 

 

 

 

Recently, I was asked by a reader if I had any posts regarding a woman “ghosting” and how to cope  with it.

 

I thought a moment, swiftly realizing:

 

I do not.

 

So, dear readers, here it is.

 

 

 

What should a man do, exactly, when a woman “flakes”, “ghosts” or otherwise fades into relational shadow when he was of the opinion that she was interested/involved/invested?

 

My answer:

 

Clean your home.

 

Literally.

 

Break out the dust-rags and vacuums. 

 

 

 

No, I’m being neither humorous nor flippant.

 

See, there’s only two possibilities here:

 

1} She is legitimately unable to communicate (which, to be perfectly honest, is unlikely but very possible).

 

2} She’s lost interest.

 

 

 

What can a man do about either?

 

Nothing.

 

Accept it.

 

Like it or not.

 

And get your house in order.

 

 

 

Trying to get her attention – at this juncture – is a fool’s errand.

 

She’ll either write you off as desperate (at best) or creepy (at worst).

 

So take care of yourself.

 

Sanitize your surroundings.

 

Freshen (in every sense of the word) your environment.

 

 

 

There’s no downside to this course of action.

 

1} It clears the path for friends and visitors, new and old.

 

2} It helps clear your own head.

 

3} It prevents you from hating yourself and your station, if only a little, that much more.

 

4} It keeps you from obsessing over mistakes, missteps and self-doubt.

 

5} Lastly, and importantly, it keeps you from digging the hole between you and she even deeper.

 

 

 

Thus, get to work and let her go… to flee or return.

 

Take care of you.

 

Because, as a man, no matter how much you’d wish differently—

 

No one else will.

 

 

Ω

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20 Responses to ““… trying to be me, oh, it ain’t easy…””

  1. Reading this post is a cold comfort, but it helps. I imagine I’ll be reading this a lot in the next couple of weeks.

    Anything’s better than trying to get back in touch with a dead end.

    Wald

    • Wald, sorry if this is TL:DR. I once got a Friend request from a chick who did me dirty nearly 15 years previously. Literally no contact for 1.5 decades, then boom, there she was. Probably still up to no good, but they remember, man, they remember. If they go Ghost, you go ten times Ghostier! 🙂

      And when I say “did me dirty” I mean completely, utterly blew me off and was banging someone else half a day later. Like, I still had a key to her house and she had some of her personal effects and kid clothes at my place. Like, when I went scarce for a couple of months I came back to my neighbourhood pub and was informed the dude had knocked her up already. 100% nuclear rejection (ohyeah, she did me a favour)

      Like, she was away to her folks’ that weekend, so I went to her place after my hangover wore off and got my stuff and dropped hers off. Wrote her a nice note, dropped the key in the mailbox. She had a sweet digital camcorder; we’d recorded a few happy moments on it. I couldn’t resist; I fired it up. The footage of us was all recorded over by a big ass house party; bikers and some of her slut girlfriends in attendance, while I was down at the pub getting shitfaced. At least one of those girls said hi to me that night as they walked in on a beer run.

      But damned if she didn’t find me. I don’t think we even have mutual FB friends.

      My first girlfriend moved away after a few months, and would be back through our way maybe once a year. Until she got hitched up she’d call me; my God I swear she got hotter every time I saw her. Nobody knew the term “booty call” in 1986 but guess I was one. After 24 years she hit me up on FB. I’d been friends with her sister but hadn’t seen her in a quarter century. Apparently they talked about me more than once over that time. News to me!

      Another one I met at karaoke, talked to maybe twice. Didn’t see her again for six months. She didn’t even know my last name but I’d given her girlfriend my contact info because she needed a work reference. Guess who sends an FB request six months later?

      Your little Muse is being squirrelly, but I guaran-damn-tee she remembers you just fine. They forget NOTHING. Carry on being awesome; like Ace said, let her sweat your absence.

      • Never tl;dr, my man.

        I appreciate every syllable. Helps to hear someone else’s story, even though I *logically* know I’m not the only one. Hearing that they talked about you months, years later is quite interesting and comforting at the same time.

        I suppose I can settle for having a brief, but vivid impact on her life.

        Logically, I realize I may have dodged a bullet. She may have done me a favor. But I can’t help but feel the way I feel.

        Hope all is well, brother.

        If you got anymore stories along these lines, please share’em.

        Wald

    • Wald,

      Glad to help.

      Hang in there,

      A♠

  2. Eduardo the Magnificent Says:

    Men do. It’s what we do. I can only get so much out of talking. If I’m in a pickle, eventually I have to do something to distract and clear my head. Clean out the closet and throw shit away. Find anything that’s been on your list for too long and just do it. You’ll feel a lot better.

    • Eduardo,

      “Find anything that’s been on your list for too long and just do it. You’ll feel a lot better.”

      Exactly.

      Plus, an accompanying benefit, there will be that much more to entice the next woman.

      A♠

  3. I doubt there’s many men who haven’t ‘staked out’ a favourite haunt wondering what the hell she’s up to. Fortunately pride usually kicks in and you say “what the hell am I doing?”

    Yeah, if she fades out, best thing you can do is be found with things even better than when she left.

  4. Another post request from anothe reader.

    a) How to be a man that women don’t ghost on.

    or

    b) How to not be a man that women ghost on.

    Wald

  5. […] Yesterday’s post was one of them. […]

  6. Hey Wald,

    It’s sort of cold comfort, I mean I really loved a couple of these women and got messed up bad. But the past 30 years have closed a few circles for me. Women want the Bigger Better Deal, naturally.

    At my 30-year HS reunion in my hometown, a girl I was sweet on (who of course went on to a series of douchebags) showed up for a couple of hours. Obviously at 49 she wasn’t anything like she used to be but we had a very nice chat for a couple of hours. She left at 10 because she had to pick up a kid and also work in the AM. I went back up north the next day.

    Six months later. It’s a Friday night, in January, in a trailer park next to a majour highway but otherwise in the middle of nowhere.

    It’s her. She asks how I’m doing, we talk back and forth for a few minutes. Then she says “I called because I wanted to say something to you. I came to the reunion to see you. I always loved you, I was stupid, and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know that.”

    My hand to God.

    Third party confirmation came, unsolicited, that she said similar things to mutual acquaintances at her workplace. When I moved back down that way, her brother told me over beers one night that he was sick of ‘listening to her fucking pining”.

    I laughed, I did. Looooong time closing that circle.

    Now, some things were messed up in her family life at the time. She couldn’t stay, she had to leave town. Gotta file it under “not meant to be” because some just aren’t. Rollo Tomassi is absolutely correct, there is no “One”.

    I commented on another post, and Ace definitely agrees:

    “Become the Man who chooses
    Not the Man who is chosen
    That takes hard work; even in an age of comfort no Man is exempt from toil.
    Then you can sift out Cinderella from the Cinders.”

    If you’re anything like me, when one of these broads walked I felt like I had a 400-lb black hole in my chest and I couldn’t think about anything else. When you’re young your mind starts building castles in the sky about what your life together will be like … what your kids will look like … what your love life will look like. It just goes off on its own. It’s called ‘limerence’ and it’s just a chemical mindfuck. This is what women were once trained to take advantage of to get a husband. Now they obviously have no idea how it works. This girl on your mind is truly no better than average, save 10-15 years when she gets to be above-average through no effort of her own.

    Kitten Holiday had a post called ‘It Doesn’t Matter If You’re Ugly”.
    I’ve never been a poonslayer; my body count is just barely double-digit. I’m picky about looks, I won’t dump a load in just anything. I have a nice-guy face and have only been strong and ripped a couple times in my life, it’s just not something I’ve been able to maintain. I generally choose outside jobs just so I’m getting paid to exercise. Low Energy! your new President would say. And yet some heads still turn. A percentage always will. If you don’t like the quality of the women who check you out, upgrade yourself. It’s always about YOU, my man.

    The strong likelihood is that the woman suitable to be your companion is still in junior high. Seriously. I’ve had snow-white hair since I was in my late 30’s and it doesn’t keep women away at all.

    There’s a new crop of women on the market every year. Want a 19 yo? A 25 yo? A 30 yo? A 40 yo? (I’m in my 50’s now, some arent’ bad) Time is the conveyor belt that brings them your way. And I hate to say it, they are interchangeable. So lazy and complacent now they feel no need to differentiate themselves from each other.

    Perspective:

    Google Images for Rita Hayworth, Betty Page, Virginia Bell, Brigitte Bardot, Russ Meyer Girls, Samantha Fox, Anastasiya Kvitko. That’s about 75 years’ worth of hotties. What do they have in common? They’re all sex bombs, they all get their Day, and they spend it with the men having THEIR Day. They all pose the same, they even sorta dress the same. The female body is what it is. The men they’re with? Varied as the day is long. Some attractive but mainly money/power/status. They have shit ‘going on’. You’re RP, you can tell from their expressions they’re faking some of those smiles. Interchangeable. Unless Ghost Girl looks like one of these broads, she fucked up bad not calling you back.

    Google these same women later in life. In their prime, you’d pay anything. Now? No way, even if they paid YOU.

    Short term, absolutely clean your house. Get the clutter out of your life. Focus on YOU. It’s what AlphaGorillaFuckBeast ™ would be doing anyway. What happens if a girl Ghosts AGFB guy? She’d best be showing up with the beer and condoms, she’s already disqualified herself from anything else (not like he’ll tell her that of course). Ghost Girl isn’t special, man. She needs a bathroom fan for the same reason men do (having been married twice, I’d say they need it worse)

    No lie, I’d be a far wealthier and more powerful man, with far more and better options, if not for the shit women brought to my bluepill life. I lingered on the bad ones waaaay too long.

    You have the Red Pill. You are weaponized. Literally dozens of terrible and scarring experiences that you’ve been inoculated against.

    Longer term, build yourself three things:

    1) Six months’ living expenses in cash. Maintain for life.
    2) Complete elimination of debt. It’s freeing and empowering.
    3) Max your 401k/ every tax-deferred thing you can find. Get it large early so it can grow longer. Google “Permanent Portfolio”.
    4) Structure your assets so Sweetie’s legal team will never get their hands on it if SHTF.

    Become the Man who chooses, Wald. It’s a mindset/Frame/call it what you want. The fact is, you are more valuable than these women. They do not realize that Ol’ Ma Nature gave them JUST ENOUGH va va voom to lock down a mate for life. Without their looks – and Men, the only species those looks were designed to attract – they’re second-tier men at best.

    I kept writing, made this really long, because I’ve been where you are, and it bloody sucks man.I appreciated my friends who stuck around to talk me through it.

    But really think about this thing. You’re gonna be turning this girl and your interactions every which way in your mind, and it’s not wrong to do that, so long as you look at it as a lesson to extract. Because it is. In the meantime an attractive pleasant surprise is on the conveyor belt. Heading your way. Will you be ready when she finds you?

    All the best my friend.

    • JD,

      Thanks again for your small brochure, I mean comment.

      (Joking aside – I really enjoy the length – gives me a lot to chew on)

      Funny you mention highschool. My Father went to a highschool reunion sometime last year I believe. Not many of them left at the 50 year reunion (he’ll be 70 next year). Some girl kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’ve waited 50 years to do that.”

      Really struck awe in me.

      So I don’t doubt your story one bit.

      Makes me think the friendzone and any acknowledgement of male and female relationships as anything more than platonic (aside from the briefest of interactions) as a subtle poison. How many opportunities were missed, how many men married women who did not truly love them, for lack of looking for the signs of it in the women who did?

      It’s easier to convince people that love doesn’t exist rather than getting rid of it. The effect is the same, in the end.

      I’ve been incredibly lucky in my journey. With the exception of one girl, I’ve only been ghosted by girls with whom I’d spent only a short spell. All things considered, a small part of my life, maybe.

      I’ve been ghosted on four times that I remember.

      1) Girl I messaged on OKC. College gal. Slept with her on the first date. Sexually compatible (minus one or two proclivities). Stopped talking to me after day three. Probably something I said that was tryhard.

      2) Honorable mention (not former girlfriend because we didn’t date nearly long enough): German gal who I connected with on a deep level. Never had sex with her (was about to but had an attack of conscience, did the right thing and told her about something I had). Relationship floundered shortly after, because of miscommunication, me mishandling it, and ultimately, something that had nothing to do with me.

      She found out she had cervical cancer.

      She ghosted on me and then hit me up 9 months later when she felt I had gotten over her and told me about it. Said she loved me and didn’t want me to share in her pain, given how she heard about my Father’s devotion to my mother after my mother had a stroke.

      I learned a lot from her. More than most girls. My time with her, though painful in the end, was a blessing.

      3) A girl who messaged me on tinder and started the interaction. Met up with her, kissed her, took her home, cooked her steak, planned to see her the next day, and she never showed up. Never talked to me again, save once when I called her and she didn’t recognize my number. She said she’d talk to me later and tell me what happened, but of course, it was a lie.

      4) The most recent one. I’ll write about her on my blog (which helps me cope). This is the second most painful ghost, as I met with her three times and things seemed to be going particularly well. A phone call and plans to see each other the next day (Friday) and no response to calls, texts, or snaps (Saturday), and the fourth ghost was born. I can only suspect a couple things I’ve said to play a role.

      All the longest relationships (which tragically were all long distance as well) never ended in a ghost (minus the first one, but only in response to me going ghost). They all keep in touch with me to various degrees. All younger than me, though only by a hair or two (2-3 year difference rather than 5-10). Something prevents me from ghosting on them and I think the same for them on me.

      Don’t know why I have that hunch.

      Limerence is an exellent word. I think I have half a name of a post.

      1) Six month’s cash – won’t happen until I pay off all my debt
      2) I escape college with a college degree and no college debt. But I managed to get myself into a spot of debt anyway. Nothing that will cost me my future to pay off, however.Z
      3) I really ought to look into to taxes. But I must say, given how I sort of look forward to a civil war and strife for some reason, taxes are hardly on my mind except for the month of April.z
      4) One step at a time. But duly noted.

      I do like the idea of the man who chooses. I’d like to be that. Seems like I’m a ways off from that for now. Seems like every serious girlfriend I had chose me first, before I chose them. Even this past ghost girl, who happened to coincide with this post. She asked me for my phone, to put her number in.

      The good news is I did learn a few lessons from this girl. It wasn’t a waste of my time, in the end.

      In the meantime, while I’m sad it didn’t work out, I wish her all the best.

      If she truly doesn’t want to be with me, I don’t want her to be with me either.

      Wald

    • JD,

      Thanks again for your small brochure, I mean comment.

      (Joking aside – I really enjoy the length – gives me a lot to chew on)

      Funny you mention highschool. My Father went to a highschool reunion sometime last year I believe. Not many of them left at the 50 year reunion (he’ll be 70 next year). Some girl kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’ve waited 50 years to do that.”

      Really struck awe in me.

      So I don’t doubt your story one bit.

      Makes me think the friendzone and any acknowledgement of male and female relationships as anything more than platonic (aside from the briefest of interactions) as a subtle poison. How many opportunities were missed, how many men married women who did not truly love them, for lack of looking for the signs of it in the women who did?

      It’s easier to convince people that love doesn’t exist rather than getting rid of it. The effect is the same, in the end.

      I’ve been incredibly lucky in my journey. With the exception of one girl, I’ve only been ghosted by girls with whom I’d spent only a short spell. All things considered, a small part of my life, maybe.

      I’ve been ghosted on four times that I remember.

      1) Girl I messaged on OKC. College gal. Slept with her on the first date. Sexually compatible (minus one or two proclivities). Stopped talking to me after day three. Probably something I said that was tryhard.

      2) Honorable mention (not former girlfriend because we didn’t date nearly long enough): German gal who I connected with on a deep level. Never had sex with her (was about to but had an attack of conscience, did the right thing and told her about something I had). Relationship floundered shortly after, because of miscommunication, me mishandling it, and ultimately, something that had nothing to do with me.

      She found out she had cervical cancer.

      She ghosted on me and then hit me up 9 months later when she felt I had gotten over her and told me about it. Said she loved me and didn’t want me to share in her pain, given how she heard about my Father’s devotion to my mother after my mother had a stroke.

      I learned a lot from her. More than most girls. My time with her, though painful in the end, was a blessing.

      3) A girl who messaged me on tinder and started the interaction. Met up with her, kissed her, took her home, cooked her steak, planned to see her the next day, and she never showed up. Never talked to me again, save once when I called her and she didn’t recognize my number. She said she’d talk to me later and tell me what happened, but of course, it was a lie.

      4) The most recent one. I’ll write about her on my blog (which helps me cope). This is the second most painful ghost, as I met with her three times and things seemed to be going particularly well. A phone call and plans to see each other the next day (Friday) and no response to calls, texts, or snaps (Saturday), and the fourth ghost was born. I can only suspect a couple things I’ve said to play a role.

      All the longest relationships (which tragically were all long distance as well) never ended in a ghost (minus the first one, but only in response to me going ghost). They all keep in touch with me to various degrees. All younger than me, though only by a hair or two (2-3 year difference rather than 5-10). Something prevents me from ghosting on them and I think the same for them on me.

      Don’t know why I have that hunch.

      Limerence is an exellent word. I think I have half a name of a post.

      1) Six month’s cash – won’t happen until I pay off all my debt
      2) I escape college with a college degree and no college debt. But I managed to get myself into a spot of debt anyway. Nothing that will cost me my future to pay off, however.Z
      3) I really ought to look into to taxes. But I must say, given how I sort of look forward to a civil war and strife for some reason, taxes are hardly on my mind except for the month of April.z
      4) One step at a time. But duly noted.

      I do like the idea of the man who chooses. I’d like to be that. Seems like I’m a ways off from that for now. Seems like every serious girlfriend I had chose me first, before I chose them. Even this past ghost girl, who happened to coincide with this post. She asked me for my phone, to put her number in.

      The good news is I did learn a few lessons from this girl. It wasn’t a waste of my time, in the end.

      In the meantime, while I’m sad it didn’t work out, I wish her all the best.

      If she truly doesn’t want to be with me, I don’t want her to be with me either.

      Wald

      • You raised a good point about girls choosing us. If they take a shine to you … and they’re attractive, I just hid from the fuglies … you’re probably gonna go for it. They do shuffle things around to accommodate you if they like you. The hazard for me was there was only one at a time, not a lot of talent in my small town. It definitely affected my mindset, and I gave them way too much slack when I really should have done the opposite. The choosy man wouldn’t put up with gaslighting and disrespect.

        And, since they’d sort of initiated the whole thing, it paradoxically made me complacent. “She wanted me, she’ll always want me.” Some of them treated me lousy and I tolerated it to keep them around, but I bristled at the expectations they were trying to lay on me. I mean what the hell, I was the pursued one here, what’s the problem? I had a LOT to learn man, there was no advice. I just projected qualities of rationality and logic onto them that simply weren’t there.

        This right here:
        “Makes me think the friendzone and any acknowledgement of male and female relationships as anything more than platonic (aside from the briefest of interactions) as a subtle poison. How many opportunities were missed, how many men married women who did not truly love them, for lack of looking for the signs of it in the women who did?”

        Oh yeah. In retrospect I had some truly beautiful women laid on my table, but I always wanted to go slow and most didn’t. They had no chill and cut no slack. I wasn’t rejecting them, I had deep Christian views and believed things needed some time to take root. But it mattered not … so far as they were concerned they offered themselves and I must not be interested. Now, would any of these have resulted in “true love”? Doubtful. I was shy and awkward and and had little of that irrational confidence the young man is supposed to have. So even if I’d just dived in it might have fizzled out quickly. But it would have been valuable experience that I really suffered for not having later.

        The PUA’s are right, you escalate until they stop you. I can see now that even in my younger days there were sweeties that wanted me to “Just Get It”, and I just didn’t. So if you’ve been bold, you’ve done it right. There’s no other way to play this game.

        There’s one that still calls me her “Big Bro” … lol I cringe. That was my Beta Friendzone Hell. And yeah, they know. They know. She was mad sexy and just toyed with me. I should have told her I was busy when she’d call and ask what I was doing.

        But she had a severely messed up home, and I wanted to save the whole world. She took my side when my first wife slagged my name all over the map; she apologized for ever doubting me. She still long distance calls and FB’s me all these years later and now that she’s very post-Wall it doesn’t bother me. She’s the only rescue animal I tolerate in my life anymore.

        (Jeez, I’m a brochure factory all right.)

      • Brochures make for good reading.

        Interesting rescue animal you got there. Nice that she took your side when it mattered (rare, rare amongst women!).

        I think I suffered the same thing – complacent because this gal chose me. I didn’t think I was invincible, but I was thought thoughts somewhere near there. The fall’s never pleasant.

        To reference the bit I included in the DM and its relevance.

        I’m on a slightly different path where I’m trying to be more honorable and honest. Not for them. For me. So I can look myself in the mirror and like what I see. I’m clearly relearning how to be savvy again and proper timing in things.

        I find though, that being honest doesn’t hurt as much as people say it does [provided you do it right].

        RE: Rita Hayworth and future bride.

        I plan on getting married and having four children. I don’t plan on getting married before I leave the military. Still, you know what they say – man plans and God laughs. I still hope that I marry an 18-20 year old when I’m in my late 20s or early 30s. I suppose that disqualifies most women I’ll meet for the next half decade? Hahah

        I know there’ll be more and better women on the horizon. There always is. It is only in the past couple years that my emotional understanding of that fact has caught up to my logical understanding of it.

        And damn, if Limerence ain’t a bitch!

        Wald

  7. Wald,

    Greatly enjoying this exchange young sir.

    Limerence is why a noted London neurosurgeon threw himself off a bridge a month ago. His ice-cold TV presenter wife pulled the plug on him. A neurosurgeon! Red Pill is far more important education for men than anything else now. Without it you’re just fattening yourself for the slaughter.

    Rational Male’s “Casualties’ post is a wakeup call. You may find Terrence Popp’s video “Purple Heart’s Final Beat” relevant too.

    I absolutely agree, don’t even think about marriage while you’re in the military. Afterwards, refer to my Point 4 ( in the previous brochure:) ) You must make yourself as anti-fragile as possible; your military pay and bennies will attract some truly worthless women. (At least camp followers had to stick around in the old days!) You may want to shop around for jurisdictions, even countries, where the risk is lower and the women live in the real world.

    Please believe me, you don’t want to leave anything to chance. Add the limerence of a 10-year relationship suddenly ended, to your kids slowly being turned into damaged strangers and your income being siphoned off at gunpoint so a treacherous whore can transfer your family’s legacy to shoe stores, car dealers and casinos. And, probably, a layabout boyfriend. If you seek justice with gun or fists, as you naturally would, you are vilified as a creepy monster. All because you tried to be a good responsible guy and signed on the dotted line.

    We had a mid-50’s equipment operator – new hire – get out of his tree-cutter one morning and walk backwards into the saw; took the whole back of his skull off and my baby brother discovered him an hour later. I don’t know his whole story but I highly doubt it’s unrelated. At my last job my supervisor had only started a week before me; his predecessor didn’t show up for work one morning and was found at home hung by his belt. His 3rd wife had pulled the plug on him; he was 63 years old. Another supervisor, at 60, was raising his 8 yo grandson by himself. His daughter got into the crack and his wife, a high-powered health exec, decided she wasn’t going to stick around to raise another child. He made good money so he could afford help at least.

    You need a plan in place before you go shopping for a wife. It’s no game, the family courts are satanic. Men lose their minds, this is murder-suicide scale pain. I’m sure military life is risky and dangerous, but you don’t want this. Men aren’t built to tolerate this.

    To your family – but also to the family law people and child protection bureaucrats rubbing their hands – you’re the prize. You’re the golden goose. You’re the fount of blessing. Somebody’s gonna benefit from you doing what you do.

    So, you guard your interests like Fort Knox. And while I agree with honesty as a best policy, you probably know not to put all your cards on the table with women. They like mystery and they don’t need to know. Perhaps a family trust situation where you don’t actually own anything. The point is you make damn sure if she pulls the plug on you that SHE’s the one living under a bridge.

    That’s all I got for now buddy. Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum.

    • Good God, that limerence is a bitch, my friend.

      It hits you the worst when you least expect it.

      And when you least expect to, is when you meet someone.

      Double damn!

      Wald

      • Yep. Like with the Sirens, you wanna last yourself to the mast.

        But, you gotta have a mast first.

  8. […] statement I’ve heard three times since publishing ► this article ◄ […]

  9. […] has some advice on what to do when a woman flakes: “… trying to be me, oh, it ain’t easy…” and a deep and forgotten track from Bad Company. Also a couple more literary projects are in the […]

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