I Am A Victim: Women Forced Me To Have A Bad Personality


Women made me who I am today. It’s not my fault. I was always such a nice guy. I held doors open for girls. I paid them compliments. I’d buy flowers, chocolates, and jewelry for them as little romantic gestures. I did everything, and yet they’d still never put out.

They walked all over me like I was a doormat. Girls would ask me to do favors for them, and I was eager to oblige, thinking I finally had my in. I mean, what’s the point of doing things for someone if they’re not going to sleep with you? In the end, however, it turned out they had no interest in me that way. They were just using me. They took advantage of a nice guy who was willing to do anything for just a little sex. Was that too much to ask?

My first true love, Cecilia, is responsible for breaking my heart. I was so enamored with her. I would stare at her entire classes, wondering what her lovely body looked like naked. I fantasized over her all day, imagining her sweaty and moaning as I gave her all five inches of my petrified love. I thought the best approach would be to pretend to be her friend, and in time she’d sleep with me. I mean, what’s the point of friendship if it doesn’t lead to occasional banging? I was a nice guy willing to give up my time and company for a girl, and all I wanted in return was to have my penis touched. Was that too much to ask?

Cecilia and I had kept this “friendship” going for about two months. I decided to take it to the next level and invited the idea of doing some after-school “studying”. She was on-board and told me to come to her place. This was good, I thought. That way if the sex was awkward I’d at least be able to sneak off without worrying about getting rid of her. I was finally going to lose my virginity.

The evening was going pleasantly, I thought. She was dismissive of the eyes I made at her rather than freaked out. When I touched her hand lightly with mine she gently removed it rather than recoiling like I was a viper. Surely she dug me. However, this is the pivotal moment in my life which caused me to lose my “nice guy” ways.

That’s when I started working out. It became like a drug to me. But what was more like a drug were the drugs. I was cramming myself full of steroids and bench pressing like a vascular boss. Between the workouts, ‘roids, and protein shakes, I was becoming one hell of a beef cake.

One day a girl approached me at the gym and started chatting me up. When I spoke, I heard my voice, but it wasn’t me. I heard a cocky douchebag instead who played by his own rules. I sounded like a real alpha male who lead all the wolf packs. Then I remembered hearing that women liked being treated like crap. So I called her a bitch and made her cry, and told her I was going to take her out to the movies. Sobbing, she agreed. As if she had a choice. I took her out to see a Die Hard movie, and then to a nice sushi restaurant. I talked about myself mostly while she sat there in silence. Then I drove her back to her place. She asked me if I wanted to come inside. Of course I did. Why the hell else did I take her out in the first place? So I fucked her face and snuck out the next morning.

This is how I am with women now. They made me this way. I’m a monster of their creation.

Ladies, you could have had a nice guy. I would have been that guy more than happy to pull chairs out for you and buy you expensive things. However, that never got me any action. This works for me.

I was a nice guy tired of finishing last. Now I’m a jerk, but I always finish first. That’s a guarantee. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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