‘Understanding Women:’ A Book I’d Like to Destroy
Reflecting on my past self as a dating novice is an uncomfortable trip indeed. I’ve made plenty of embarrassing blunders in my dealings with women throughout the years. In an attempt to preserve my pride, I had swallowed enough proverbial blue pills to fill a 100 gallon aquarium. It never did help much. Once I finally took the red pill, all those comfortable lies about romance became about as relevant as children’s stories.
Today I noticed a surprisingly perturbing mistake sitting in the dustiest corner of my bookshelf. It’s a banal tome called ‘Understanding Women: The Definitive Guide to Meeting, Dating and Dumping, if Necessary’ by Romy Miller.
I picked it up close to a decade ago when I was far less cynical about the dating scene. Even back then I knew something deeply amiss about the advice.
Supposedly you don’t need a Ph.D. in psychology to be an expert about women’s thoughts, feelings and desires. One merely needs a vagina.
From the blurb on the back of the book:
The ‘in-your-face approach’ it speaks of is commonly referred to as talking down to your audience. From the start it reads like she is addressing a class of retarded fifth graders.
Her advice ranges from hopelessly biased to so clichéd, it sounds like something your mother told you before going to your first semi-formal.
The chapter titles speak volumes: ‘It’s all about the Benjamins,’ ‘Never let her see you cry like a baby,’ ‘The wheels,’ ‘Get a good job if you don’t already have one,’ ‘The pad,’ ‘Bitchy-beautiful girls,’ ‘Do not disrespect her,’ ‘Are you stalker material? Don’t be,’ ‘The bitch is back: Dealing with PMS,’ ‘Keep your eyes to yourself,’ ‘Buy her gifts,’ ‘The engagement ring.’
In order for the reader to be accepted by women, he’ll need to model his every behavior, and lifestyle choices around what the author personally likes. She even gets into specific music and attire, as if men are confused aliens awkwardly trying to learn about human culture.
It’s lined with feminist propaganda that the average Joe she claims to be looking out for cares nothing about. Of course she’s no longer egalitarian when it comes to matters of finance. The man is required to shower his love interest in gifts, and must refuse to let his date pay for anything.
Predictably females are never to be held accountable for their misdeeds. Even if women continually burn a man, he needs to roll with the punches and take it like a champ. Oh yeah, and it’s a scientific fact that women are ‘genetically superior.’ Here’s a clip:
How is it possible to have a meaningful relationship with someone that thinks they have more inherent value than you do? She unabashedly discloses her perception that men are disposable peasants that must prove their worth. What’s the prize for their efforts? Her majesties companionship and occasional sex, but only for as long as he tirelessly produces like a good worker bee.
Miller derives pleasure from shit testing men and judging their reactions. Her pearls of wisdom for guys who have screwed up:
Men making judgments of their own, based on a woman’s physical attractiveness, are poo-pooed. She rants about men that give women scores out of ten. Miller warns that they’ll be hell to pay if a woman catches a man doing this. Seriously, what man doesn’t realize women don’t like locker-room talk?
She lambasts men that talk about their feelings on the first few dates, calling the practice “tacky and just a little bit creepy.” Men need to be strong, but not too strong:
Later Miller admits that if you pursue a long-term relationship, a woman will try to change you as a matter of course. Control is only acceptable, if it’s emotional manipulation initiated by the female. Machismo bastards need to throw in the towel.
In a chapter called ‘How to talk to a woman,’ she reveals her double standard:
I could pull questionable material from this book all day. For the full experience, grab a copy and buckle in.
I’ve never come across a self-help book that offers so little empathy to its intended audience. It’s ironically about serving women’s needs and not men’s. Any male pursuit that doesn’t directly benefit women is written off as meaningless. To her, a man is nothing more than an appliance; his humanity and autonomy be damned.
As much as I want to rip this book up and toss it in the trash on a visceral level, it has value in a sense the author never intended. It will indeed help you understand women. You’ll learn about the mentality of the worst kind.