I know I go through a very exhaustive background of my years that preceded being sociable, but trust me, it gives you a much, much clearer picture of my development relevant to women.
A recollection of the last 1.5 years of my life: From total virgin to not virgin
In an effort to give you some relevant history on my social skills and sexuality, let's travel back to the beginning of high school. Almost surprisingly, this is actually a long time ago considering that I'm almost 25 now. So, from really what was the beginning of middle school, I can remember getting bullied and picked on almost incessantly. Every single day people would either call me a faggot, punch me, spit on me, throw gum in my hair, make fun of my first name, insinuate that I was gay, tell me that I'm the ugliest person they've ever met, or call me Ecuadorian Monkey Boy. I couldn't figure out why people disliked me so much, I was always really nice and tried to have fun with everybody. Instead of trying to figure out why all my peers hated me, I just recessed further into my various interests (computer programming, herpetology, rock/jazz guitar, photography, etc) until they were literally the world I was living in. I effectively shut out almost everybody.
Until high school, I had zero friends. After being diagnosed with and medicated for attention deficit disorder (ADD), I was placed in almost entirely special education courses. More or less, I gave up on a formal education at this point. I didn't see any point in academia whatsoever. While my peers were reading the abridged version of Huckleberry Fin in 10th grade, I was discreetly reading a textbook on object oriented C++ programming and entirely blowing off the class. Eventually, I started skipping all my classes to work on my guitar playing. (Skipping these mind-numbingly boring classes paid off. I was able to attend Berklee College of Music on scholarship with absolutely awful high school grades, and while I did end up dropping out of Berklee after a year due to the cost, it was a great experience.)
Back to the point of getting incessantly bullied, called ugly, and told that I'm a faggot in high school. After a while of this constant bombardment of being called a faggot (even though I found myself aroused by women a great deal), I started to think "Hey, maybe they're right. Maybe I'm just gay." These thoughts that I might be gay absolutely dominated my internal monologue and created a constant stream of self-depreciation, negativity, and denial. While I was terrified by women entirely in high school, this idea that I might be gay acted as a multiplier for my fear of women. I wouldn't talk to women my age for more than 2-3 minutes at a time if I didn't have to. If there were girls in my social group, I'd just avoid the entire social group when the girls were around.
Since I was so entirely ostracized in high school, my social skills became absolutely abysmal. I would avoid eye contact with people at all costs, my posture was always very awkward, and my speech prosody was overly formal. The only thing I could really converse with people about was my intense interests. Somewhere along the line my mother, a psychologist that specializes in autism diagnosis, diagnosed me with Asperger's. An autism spectrum disorder as complex and controversial as Asperger's is clearly beyond the scope of this thread, so to briefly summarize it: Asperger's is basically a mental disorder that profoundly affects your ability to socialize and connect with other people (it would definitely affect so-called game).
Despite being called ugly so often, every now and then, some very attractive girls would show interest in me in middle school and high school. I didn't know what to do with that, so I avoided them like I avoided everybody outside of a few close friends.
Even though I had only barely graduated high school, I was admitted to Berklee on a scholarship to study jazz guitar. Long story short, this did not work out after a year, so I ended up moving back home to hopefully find something interesting to study at community college. Eventually, the entire point of academia clicked for me after taking a philosophy course, and I developed an insatiable interest in cognitive science. After spending 3 semesters receiving almost entirely A's taking computer science, math, psychology, and biology courses, I was able to transfer to the University of Connecticut to get a degree in Cognitive Science. Once again, to save you more reading about my irrelevant academic history, I more or less became obsessed with this field, did some independent research for a professor that was eventually published, and graduated Magna Cum Laude with a bachelor's in Cognitive Science. This field absolutely captured my entire intellectual being.
Some girls were definitely interested in me, sometimes they were cute, but once again, I had absolutely no clue what to do with them, so I effectively ran away from all of them. After living in more or less isolation during undergrad (I lived off campus at UConn), I wasn't getting bullied anymore and I started to forget entirely that I might be gay. By 21, I pretty much never thought about it.
The Discovery of "Game"
After developing crushes on some girls at UConn that I had very limited interactions with, I started wanting to do more than this. After reading The Mystery Method during my last semester, I cold approached some mildly attractive girl (you could probably label her as being a bit on the chubby side) at the library. She agreed to come out for a coffee with me and we absolutely hit it off. I think we talked for like 3 hours about anything and everything. While I was really nervous initially, I became so comfortable with this chick.
We never went on a second date, though. This totally crushed me. I was probably too awkward and uncool. I know it wasn't my looks or level of connection holding me back on this one. Back then, however, I thought I must've been some sort of troll for some girl like that to reject me. I spent an entire summer after graduation being very depressed about this rejection.
Luckily, I made close friends with a fellow cognitive science major that had a side-interest in game. Sometimes I think I'm awkward and uncool, but relative to this kid, I was a social prodigy. This guy was also involved in a local lair. This is where it all begins...
The First Lair Meeting
As soon as I get to the strip club, I see my friend in a gathering of guys outside the building in a parking lot. They're all trying to game some strippers with some total bullshit. One of the guys that sticks out is this short, strikingly handsome guy (great jawline; he pretty much looks like Anthony Keidis) with a ton of swagger. This Anthony Keidis looking guy, Tim, is the one to make the most progress with one of the strippers and she's instantly calling him things like "beautiful", etc. After we bounce to a real bar and Adam and I work some girls, it is obvious that we are going to become very good friends. We both fail miserably on the gaming front that night. It turns out that he lives no more than a few miles away from my house, plays guitar, loves music, loves women, goes to UConn (I have graduated by this point), and has the best game out of anybody I've ever seen. Tim plays a pivotal role in my development. He's more or less a role model in a way at this point.
After going out with some friends from my lair to other bars over the next few months, I start to realize some things. Eye contact and proximity is the channel of communication that 90% of flirting takes place on. Contrary to people who are all about the verbal game (Tim included; we'll get back to why this is later on perhaps), in my experience, all sexually charged interactions with women have risen out of flirty eye contact and body proximity. I'll get back to why I absolutely do not care about verbal game anymore, too.
So, outside of eye contact and non-verbal confidence, I noticed another huge factor in what determines who's getting the girls: looks. If she doesn't find you physically attractive, the door is shut and she's speaking to you through an intercom system in a way. There is no game that can compensate for this except for maybe money and social status. However, those factors aren't even something you can really control for in an interaction with a random girl; that's all social circle stuff.
The makeouts start coming in a month into it. My first makeout in my life occurs at 23 at a frat party I was invited to by Tim (a 25 year old undergraduate student at that time; he never graduates). The girl was absolutely disgusting and fat. I only did this just to see what it's like to makeout with a girl. She was absolutely enamored by me. I check her facebook the next day and see an update that says "I wish people would keep their word and actually take you out for coffee when they say they will..." I block her on facebook because I'm so grossed out by myself.
A few weeks before that first makeout, I end up dressing extremely well while going out "sarging" with the boys. The attention I get is through the roof. As soon as I enter a bar, some girls try to get a picture with me and are like "you're cute!" I don't know what to do, so I eject. Some other girl (kinda chubby from what I remember), puts her hand in my pocket without me even talking to her and tries to feel up my dick. I get stopped by some graduate students as I'm walking around the bar looking for a friend that try to get me to dance with them. I ignore them. They were pretty cute. We go to another bar, and some cute girl tries to dance with me once again, and I get so fucking nervous and walk away after getting through the basic dialog. I could sense the sexual energy and I had no idea what to do with it.
We go out to another bar a week later, and I get approached by some stunning blonde that just says "Hey. Damn, look at you." I try to chat her up outside and while that's happening and her boys start destroying this car they think is our own. As soon as I see this, my friends and I take off before they find out which car is actually our own.
While in NYC on Halloween, I get absolutely smashed on long islands. I see drunk goggles cute girl dancing by herself, so I decide to say hi. It's a direct hit. She tries to teach me how to dance, etc. After 5 minutes, I grab her number and eject.
Within this period between October and April 2010, there are a gargantuan number of rejections that I can't even begin to recount to you. Some of them range from a girl approaching me telling me she's a gynecologist, small talking for a bit, and then when I re-engage her later, she tells me I need to get a new face. Another great one was when some somewhat chubby chicks made a *grossed out* face at me once while I was trying to dance with them at the club. I also got a bunch of numbers that went nowhere during this period of time.
Two weeks before I go to NYC for the second time, I do something kind of crazy and facebook some cute girl I was obsessed with in HS. I ask her out over AIM and we end up meeting up for a couple dates. On the second date, she's absolutely plastered and we makeout a bunch. In retrospect, I was kinda on fire on the makeout front during those first few months, haha. Something about her personality, though, is absolutely disgusting and she seems extremely lazy. I cut it off after she suggests we go inside to make love on the third date because her breath smells like cigarettes and she is a total fucking mess (she was crying about how nobody had ever taken her on dates before like this and how she has stomach cancer).
2 months later after meeting NYC girl for the first time, I go to NYC for NYE 2009. My friend tells me to text NYC girl again after not talking to her once during that two month period. I go ahead and do it, boom, she remembers me perfectly. I wonder why? Perhaps because I was way, way better looking than her? My game was horrible back then. We setup a time to meet a few days later. More interestingly, during NYE, I end up making out with some total cutie at a bar after getting approached on the dance floor by her. I can't figure out what to talk about with her, so I ignore her for the rest of the night. Durrrrr...
I hang out with Halloween NYC girl two days after NYE 2009. We talk about all sorts of non-gamey things from our research to fucking anime. We go back to her place to watch some anime (I hate anime, usually lol). I end up making out with her, but she claims I'm too arrogant to have sex with her. Whoops.
There were probably some more makeouts between January 2010 and March 2010, but I can't really remember them. There's probably more missed opportunities here than I even want to think about. It's totally absurd.
The First Time I get Laid: March 2010
I go to my gorgeous Nepali female friend's birthday party and smoke some weed/opium. This is the first time I've done drugs outside of weed/alcohol. It was pretty cool, I guess. That's besides the point, though. At the party, I notice some girl staring a hole through me, basically. I can tell she wants me, so I go in to say 'hi.' We talk about some stereotyped, kinda silly stuff. Before I leave, I ask her to walk me out because I'm so high and fucked up from alcohol/weed/opium. When we get to my car, I give her a kiss and we start making out furiously next to my car.
This girl was probably a 5 and on the chubby side. She had this chin that would make Jay Leno himself jealous. She had nice eyes, though. On the following Sunday, we go for a walk as our first date and the conversation obviously sucks, but we're physically attracted to each other, so we want to get it on anyways. Back at her apartment, we start watching Lost and start making out again. It quickly turns into sex and I can't get the condom on my penis because it turns out I have a penis that is too girthy for regular size condoms. I didn't realize that back then, though. So, we start having sex with a condom that is about to break and I can't really keep my dick all that hard, so I give up. She tells me that I should leave and I do.
Later on during the week, she tells me that she doesn't have sex with guys that she isn't dating and therefore we should just be friends. I'm totally OK with this seeing as that she is kind of unattractive and there is no connection, so I say "That's cool! I think you'd make a great friend!!" She ends up deleting me from facebook a couple months later.
My first relationship: A 19 year old Bipolar girl named Jill
Jill. Good fucking God. How do I even begin to describe the hurricane this girl was in my life.
I don't even know if I want to do this, but let's start from the beginning...
Tim and I (we're practically best friends by this point; I promise I'll get back to him, he's a very interesting character) are kinda depressed about our luck with girls lately. Neither of us are really getting laid (well, I just lost my virginity two weeks before this, but he didn't know that). We end up going to the stonewall (an awful townie bar nearby) and get drunk in the parking lot. Instead of going inside, I decide to ask my friend Joe if he knows of any good parties with hipster chicks. He texts me back an affirmative answer 5 minutes later and provides us with directions on how to get to the house.
I walk into the house, and god damn, it turns out he was right: this party is loaded with hipster babes everywhere. There's drugs everywhere, too. I get higher than I should be for gaming girls, I'm already drunk, and the opium is still kicking around. I walk downstairs and see my dorky ass friends talking to this smilely little thing. The approach was basically perfection, even though I could've said almost anything and she would've been in love. I ask my friends loudly enough for her to overhear it "Who's this girl? Who's this girl??" and she turns around and says "Hi, I'm Jill!!" flashing such a pretty yet psychotic smile. Her brown eyes were like looking into a pond that was just about to freeze so it looked almost like glass.
It turns out that Jill and I actually have a lot in common, even though I'm five years older than her. We went to the same high school, we both love jazz, we grew up in the same town, and we're both into socialist activism. This girl is so well-spoken and articulate for her age. And Good fucking God, was she beautiful. Short hair with a face that could be mistaken for Natalie Portman, around 5'7" with these long legs, 105lbs, and literally the overall figure of a victoria's secret model. I really doubt most people on this forum have gotten with girls this pretty. As an average guy, meeting a girl that looks like her and is down to be in an exclusive relationship (having sex with any girl is whatever; tons of gorgeous girls will use ugly guys for sex when the pickings are slim) is very rare. Indeed, I'm starting to think it's so rare that a girl that attractive has to have a mental disorder in order to settle down with an average guy.
Jill and I are pretty much inseparable at the party. I can notice something is off about her, though. It's those glassy, fragile brown eyes and the way they move around kind of nervously. Beneath this surface of beauty and intelligence lies a sea of chaos. The intensity of how quickly we're bonding and how she won't let me makeout with her that night yet we're feeling each other's entire bodies up is kinda weird. Jill and I have a lot in common, and most of it isn't in the area of interests/activities, but rather how mentally disordered we both are (at this point, I've been on adderall and prozac for 12 years). I should also mention that Jill is bisexual (I suspect she's actually a lesbian, but isn't ready to come out yet), and that, for some reason or another, bisexual girls are drawn to me like moths to a fire.
Anyways, I quickly notice something is very wrong with Jill after returning from smoking some weed with my friend Tim. Of course, as soon as I take a break from her, guys crowd around her. I guess one of her girlfriends convinces her to paint her tits and as I come back, some jacked guy is painting her tits while another little Jewish friend of mine is flirting with her hard. However, I come in right as that guy is done painting her tits, and pretty much everybody in the room besides me doesn't exist to her anymore. I keep trying to bang her in my car, but she totally refuses, haha. I get her number before she leaves the party. I got some other cutie's number at this party, too, but my phone deleted it. She seemed really cool, and in retrospect, a lot more stable than Jill, actually. Maybe it was just the universe trying to lock me into something with Jill.
I wasn't in love yet, but I sure as hell was disappointed when she didn't answer my text the following day. Oh well.
Once again, it's Tim and I hanging out the next day. We've become such good friends by this point. We're so good at winging for each other, it's practically a perfect system. He's the crazy one and I'm the more chilled out one.
We decide to go back to that bar we were at last night and do the same routine over again drinking shit beer in the parking lot. This time, though, we actually go inside.
I'm dressed up ridiculously well once again (blonde jacket, expensive dress shirt from urban outfitters, nice shoes, and nudie jeans). I notice this gorgeous girl, Alyssa, smiling at me with her friend, and Tim and I approach. They blow Tim out immediately (he's kinda short and aggressive, these girls were very tall), but they let me stick around. Eventually, that Alyssa's friend leaves and it's just the two of us talking. I end up moving in very close to her and her non-verbals are perfect for a makeout after 15 minutes of this. Maybe it was too soon? Maybe she didn't want to look like a slut in front of her friends? Anyways, Alyssa turns her face away at the makeout but lets me kiss her neck (????) and gives me her number. While she was pretty, she wasn't anywhere near Jill. I still wonder about this chick sometimes and if she rejected me based on looks (her on/off boyfriend looks like Jude Law) or was I just too aggressive?
I go to the same house I was at the night before to party. Guess who's there? Jill. I say 'hi', she gives me a kurt "Hey Rob, how're you?", and then turns her back to me to continue talking to this total dork. I leave her alone and I end up getting another girl's number at this party (as we find out later, it was not a strong number; she wasn't actually attracted to me). Whatever. Bad night, I guess.
Two days later, I'm at a socialist action meeting, and after the meeting, I hear this girl squeak out "Hey Rob!" from behind and it turns out to be Jill. We start talking again and I apologize for being so forward with her the night before, and she discloses to me that she's bipolar. I tell her I've had strong unipolar depression for years, and since we're crazy, we agree that we shouldn't have sex. LOL.
I decide to take this disturbed creature with me to a small gathering of friends at my friend's place. Jill and I sit right next to each other, and as soon as the weed starts flowing again, it's obvious Jill didn't mean a damn thing about not wanting to do anything with me. I take a 3rd grade approach and start rubbing her leg with my foot and we're talking right in each other's faces again. She discloses to me that she's been to a mental hospital before after an overdose attempt on Vicodin (look, if you're trying to kill yourself, that's a pretty bad way to go out) and stresses that she has bipolar disorder. I ignore it because she's outrageously pretty and kinda classy in a way. I try to kiss her again, and she tells me to fuck off. Before she leaves, she tries to kiss me, but mumbles something about not being tall enough to reach my face and how I'm so vain and handsome.
The next day we go on a coffee date, and 20 minutes into it after I'm stroking her legs with my feet under the table, she says that she needs to be somewhere a bit more private with me. We start making out in the car finally. Jill is fucking weird about this, though. She claims to be a defensive kisser and doesn't know how to kiss using tongue.
The next day we bang it out after she makes pro/con list of having sex with me.
Long story short, since this isn't about Jill, I'm gonna try to shorten this. I fall in love with this girl against my better judgment and we date exclusively for four months. The arguments and fights are so god damn epic. The makeups are fucking out of this world. This relationship is like a constant see-saw between amazing and miserable. Jill and I have synchronized our depression cycles to crash and peak at about the same time as a result. We're just way too fucking sensitive and insecure lovers for each other.
Jill is much, much more insane than I am, though. There was one time we came back from a party after fighting on the car ride home once again and doing the insane makeups we did. This night was a bit different, though. I get woken up being punched in the face with some girl screaming "I hate you! You're cheating on me!" and it turns out that Jill is more or less sleep fighting with me. She's stuck in some dream world where I cheated on her at that party and is going ballistic right now. I eventually end up holding her down and she falls back asleep instantly. She doesn't remember anything in the morning. I think Jill's schizophrenic.
Throughout this summer, I'm trying to find her replacement because she's driving me insane. Nobody nearly as attractive as her bites. In fact, it's always these girls I would never want anything to do with. There was one bisexual chick I thought was pretty hot that was into me, but I was far too in love with Jill for this to go anywhere.
After trying to dump her for the 4th or 5th time (I don't remember), she eventually cracks and dumps me for good the first day of the semester. As you would expect, I'm pretty devastated.
Interim between Jill and the rest of the girls
During fall semester of 2010, it was apparent I wasn't going to be able to find a single god damn job, so I started taking classes in speech language pathology at UConn in hopes of eventually obtaining a Master's in it.
In the back of my mind (or really forefront of my mind), I was also obsessed with finding Jill's replacement at UConn. I still haven't found her. It is at this point where I started playing the numbers game harder than I have in my life and learned a lot of things about people that I would rather not know now. I think I obtained the numbers of around 30 girls between breaking up with Jill and now. Most of these numbers were from social circles I found myself involved in.
There were a lot of makeouts in this period. I also tried all the hard drugs I have ever done in this period that includes E, DMT, ketamine, MDMA, coke, acid, oxy, and probably some other drug I got for free that I can't remember. The combination of these drugs with weed and alcohol I feel has done a significant amount of damage in my ability to recall memories. My lexical recall ability is now shot.
Only 5 of those semi-random numbers went anywhere. One was a mediocre looking french girl that would use me for makeouts and attention, but never had sex with me due to lack of connection. The PUA folks on here might say I could've done this, that, and the other thing within the conversations with her to get her relating to me enough to have sex, but the fact of the matter is that you cannot fake a connection. The other four ended up having sex with me, but they were all sluts or ugly. Most of the time, they were relationship girls using me for sex between boyfriends.
The last one had sex with my "friend" Tim the day after we broke up. We broke up because I'm not a polyamorist (that girl had never been in love or dated anybody until she was with me and she had been with 18 guys at the age of 21). I found out she had sex with him because he was going through a box of random things as he was moving into his new house and a pair of her panties appeared. As he was pulling them out, he was like "Hmmm, I have no idea who these are from." Yeah right you do. I have not had sex with anybody 2 months later and refuse to do anything more than just bang when I encounter a slut now. I'm looking for a girl that can fall in love with me.
After seeing that only damaged hot chicks will date me and only hot sluts will have sex with me, I've about given up on getting a stable, attractive girl to date me. This numbers game has caused me a lot of damage with what I've picked up through it. I might actually date the next mediocre girl that gets into me without me doing anything to get it. I'm over looks, especially after that last incident.
I'd like to go on, but I'm running out of steam right now as a result of writing for a couple hours. Maybe some other time.