A Notch Is Just A Notch

Some guys ask me not only how I got into the game but why. Years ago I would’ve said, “To get laid,” but now I think it was just as much about building my self-esteem than sex. I needed to succeed at something besides academics. As crude as this may sound, every girl I fucked increased my self-worth and made me feel more like a man. It was a measurable unit of conquest that went along nicely with my evolutionary desire to procreate, and gave me a better high than nerdy pursuits before it, like video games or poker. I went a little too deep, though, because I’ve realized that I passed over relationships with a handful of girls—who would have given me happiness—just to keep banging more sluts.

Interesting hobbies I took on to get more sex inadvertently made me less reliant on getting further validation from women. I became busy, and spending a night doing my own work was sometimes more enjoyable than having the sex that I so greatly valued a few years prior. The pleasant buzz I got from sticking my dick into something new became more of a physical release that more frequently wasn’t even worthy of a conversation. A simple “+1” text message to friends the day after substituted giddy calls of excitement that would gloriously detail the score.

Like every drug, you get accustomed to the high and need more. Instead of getting laid from dance approaches, I had to start a conversation with actual words. Instead of talking, I had to increase the quality of women. Instead of fucking pretty girls via long-form dating, I had to do it through one-night stands. Instead of one-night stands, I had to get flags. Instead of flags, I had to get laid while using a foreign language. Instead of getting laid in a foreign language, I had to fuck young girls or virgins, and on it went until I did everything I originally set out to it and then some.

I started to reach, making up strange challenges that didn’t necessarily make me happy or a stronger man, like getting a Super Flag (a flag that was a virgin), going a long stretch where I banged a lot of girls without going on a single date, or trying to only fuck girls in my dad’s car or a friend’s couch. I knew I was going too far when I started mapping out the logistics of living in a homeless shelter for a week just to see if I could still get laid during that time (I believe I could). I was the drug user who upps the dose to get the same high, but I could never relive those days when I first started using it. I grew out of the sex drug in a rarely anti-climactic fashion. Finally sex had become just sex, and nothing more.

Whereas 80% of my perceived worth was tied into my sex organ when I was 24, it’s maybe only 30% today. It really is okay if I don’t get laid tonight because I’m doing other things that fulfill my non-sexual needs. And as my libido has decreased, the truth is I don’t need to get laid more than once or twice a week. I don’t need multiple women on the line, and actually rather not devote too much energy to them, which takes takes away from fulfilling my other needs.

There’s not a thing I would change about my past involvement in the game. It was a device that has allowed me to become my own man. The journey it has put me through has been so fulfilling and rewarding that without it I’d be a lonely, anti-social scientist stuck in some laboratory working for an Asian guy who doesn’t brush his teeth. But things change, and continuing to pursue it full-time would not see the rewards of the past. A new notch no longer adds to my character nor confidence because it will be done in a similar manner as so many times before. I’m an animal who needs sex and will continue to obtain it in various ways, but it’s no longer a big deal like it was in the past. And I’m content with that.

For now.

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