It’s an emotional rollercoaster of ups and downs, peaks and valleys. If you don’t learn how to manage your emotions, you will burn yourself out.
My current student is the tender age of 21. Shy, introverted, but highly intelligent and nice. People like him—women like him. But he just doesn’t know how to trigger the attraction mechanisms to land a girlfriend. Not yet.
We’re working on it.
These things take time. Serious time. Not weeks or months, but years.
And he wants to be better now! Why not now?
“When will this be easy?” he asks.
Months. Years. Never?
It really depends on you, your work ethic, your belief system. Do you believe in yourself—in the process?
We go for a walk and he see’s two pretty girls, about his age. I can tell he wants to meet them. “Go introduce yourself,” I say.
His look of wonder turns into fear, doubt, and he’s paralyzed. His eyes dart up, left, down right. Where can he escape this evil dating coach who wants to humiliate him?
“There’s nowhere to run bro. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. Whether you approach them, or I have to drag you over there, you are doing this.”
But he’s paralyzed with social anxiety.
So I approach them, and introduce myself. They’re cool Swedish girls. I call the student over. He hesitates and then joins us. We all go for a walk, chat a bit, and they leave. They were polite, but not interested in hanging out for long.
Now he’s wearing a mix of awe, respect, and shame on his face.
“Next time I say go, you go.”
Later in the Hostel bar, I battle his approach anxiety for three hours. All I want him to do is walk up to two girls at their table, and say “Hi. I’m Chris. How are you doing?”
I give motivational speeches, NLP, some hypnosis. I shame and scold him, take his wallet, the hotel key, his phone and say “You get these back after you talk to them. We’ll sit here all day, and all night, until you do this. Otherwise you’re sleeping on the street.”
He’s petrified, frozen with fear. His eyes dart up, left, right—full fight or flight. But after half an hour of coaching, and a slight physical push, he finally moves his feet, opens his mouth, and says “Hi, I’m Chris. How are you doing?”
“Oh hello! We’re fine. I’m Sam, this is Amber.”
He talks to them for ten minutes, and returns beaming, ear to ear, gives me a high five. He’s in the clouds. He feels like a real man. He’s energized. We talk about the experience. I even buy him lunch, since the whole ordeal took over three hours, and I’m proud of him. What seems like a small thing to an outsider, is a huge deal for him. He’s in social rehabilitation. Pickup and seduction, is the cure.
He’s a very, very happy guy. And that’s how I know, when he crashes, he’ll completely forget the positive experience.
Negativity is much, much, easier, than positivity.
Then the doom, darkness, despair …
That evening on a busy tourist street here in Bangkok (I travel internationally for work), and after some prodding he approaches two 25 year old girls. They’re receptive! He even makes them laugh. They seem to like him. So I join in. We all go for a drink, and talk. It’s going well, but he makes a few mistakes. He tries a bit too hard. He’s too “Gamey.” The girls sense a disturbance in the Force. I text him, “Stop over gaming them. Be real. No more dumb jokes. Be real.”
I save that interaction from going south, but he’s blown it with the brunette. She likes him. But he’s not going to score. It’s just not going to happen. He’s too inexperienced.
I on the other hand make a connection with the blond. It’s on. They still want to hang out with us. Good.
We all go partying, and as it becomes clear that he’s not going to romance his girl, he becomes sombre. He goes dark, starts making snide comments, tells me “That girl really doesn’t like me. Screw these girls. They’re no good, blah, blah…”
I take him aside and call his bullshit. “You blew it man. Let it go, be her friend. Stop hitting on her. It’s not going to happen. Meet more girls. There’s plenty. Be positive. Just be friends with her. It’s okay.”
The next morning he’s pouting. He’s dark man. “How long will this take? I’m tired of being a beta. I’m tired of being a bitch.”
I show him the world’s tiniest violin. He laughs.
We do some meditation. He says he can’t focus, but tries anyway. We argue a bit while I explain “No that girl wasn’t a bitch. She was mad because I was making out with her blond friend, and nobody was hitting on her. Probably because she was with two guys, and most men are pussies.”
“I did! I was hitting on her,” Chris says, not understanding that yes, she wants to be hit on, but she wants to be hit on well, with skill, and he’s just learning. He’s a newbie. He has to pay his dues. He has to make mistakes.
That brunette girl has more game than him. At 25, she’s been hit on by hundreds, maybe thousands of men. She’s had more sex, more relationships, and she knows an experienced, talented, fully developed man.
He’s just not there…yet. And yes, it’s his fault, and not hers. He should be very happy he was able to approach them, to meet them, to go for drinks with two beautiful women! “That was amazing!” I tell him. “I’m super proud of you, of your quick progress.”
But he’s sad. He’s bitter. He wants an outcome. He doesn’t appreciate the journey.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. I really don’t. How long does it take to learn guitar? To learn algebra? It’s up to you.
We meditate to clear negative energy. I ask him to exercise with me. He doesn’t want to. He wants to sleep. He wants to whine. That’s fine, I tell him. Sleep is good.
He can’t sleep. He’s angry. He goes down to the restaurant, depressed. He orders some food, and at the bar he starts talking to two pretty girls! Now he’s laughing, they’re laughing. He’s having fun. He’s a man again.
And I’m upstairs, writing this blog post.
When I see him again, I’m sure he’ll be riding high.
I hope he understands the lesson. That it’s only a matter of time before he’s low, dark, once again. Unless he learns to master his emotions, this will be a very, very painful ride.
This is a long, hard, but incredibly fun journey. He will find success with women. He will find sex, and love, and companionship, and confidence, and self-esteem.
But it takes time. Lots of time. And that’s fine. He’s 21, for fucks sake. He’s just going to get hotter with age.
But if he rides that emotional roller coaster, it will burn him out.
Always remain slightly above happy. Be present to the moment. Enjoy the journey as much as much as the destination.
If there was no learning curve, no challenge, it wouldn’t be so damn rewarding.