PRESELECTION: (noun)

Women are more attracted to men who already have the interest of other women. This saves women time in judging a man, by using the idea that other women have already judged him favorably.

How many movies have we seen with this plot? How about “Can’t Buy Me Love”, Starring Patrick Dempsey and Amanda Petterson, 1987. He was the school loser who paid the popular girl $1,000 to pose as his girlfriend for a month. Suddenly, all the girls wanted him and the he guys thought he was cool. It backfired and she became jealous because the other girls wanted who she created, and he no longer wanted her. Just a stupid movie, or real life? No. We see this everywhere. … affairs, for example. How many times do we see affairs and ask ourselves what in the world is he/she doing with them??  Is it because they really have feelings or is it because they’re “off limits” and therefore desirable? (Further proof of how terrible humans are.)

As I’ve candidly revealed, I’ve been cheated on a few times, and each time, the other woman (or women) have ridden side saddle right next to me, the whole time. I just never knew it. BUT THEY KNEW ABOUT ME. So when I discovered their secret lives, did I kick into overdrive to “win” these men? No. I grieved my heart out over certain relationships, but I never tried to win anyone back doing the typical “woman games”.  To each their own, we all do our own thing; but that’s never been me.

In fact, long ago, I was with a man who had a side girl. It broke us up, we reconciled, but he kept her for a long while after, lying to me. So the last time I discovered she was still around, it was for sneaky meetings with this woman to “wrap things up” because “he felt bad for the way it ended with her”, even though it never really did.  Obviously, the intention was for sex with her, more ego stroking, and validation that she still wanted him, because he simply wasn’t over her.

By the way, she wasn’t exactly a one – man – woman; (as fate would have it, through an unbelievable coincidence, we had a mutual friend, so I knew a lot.) I found out about yet another upcoming secret rendezvous, and I said, “If you go see her, just stay gone. I don’t want you or your lies or your left over time. See her again, and just stay gone.” Was I manipulating him? No. I sincerely wanted away from him. I had shut off. The thought of him with her turned me off so much that I shuddered at the mere thought of even a hug with him, because it was as if I could almost smell her on him. It turned my stomach to imagine him with this woman, and it made me see him differently. It removed his desirability and actually erased EVERYTHING I admired before. This man that I worshipped suddenly seemed like a loser, just for chasing that woman. It deeply bothered me that he could never resist her, and he suddenly appeared “weak” to me, no longer the self proclaimed “Alpha”.  He pulled off his mask and there stood Mr. Beta.  I cannot explain it, but that was the end result. Yes, he saw her again and that was it.  He chose her tarnished gold plating over my devotion for the last time. I never saw him again and stopped answering his calls until he went away.  The end.

So, why did I tell this story? Because this woman knew all about me. She knew that guy and I were together, she knew he was lying to me and she she knew he was dumping me for her. That, folks, is Preselection. (Woman are more attracted to men who already have the interest of other women)

John and I sat across from each other in a little restaurant we frequent. He was very handsome in that light; five – o’clock shadow, well fitting sweater, his usual half smile. John’s a very cheerful man, very easy going, very warm. It adds to his beauty and I always tell him so. And looking at him as often as she could, was one of the waitresses. She’d saunter past, touching the table edge with her fingertips, asking him if we needed anything. *Hi, I’m here, too.* She’d tilt her head and laugh at absolutely nothing, but anything he said was funny to her. And she’d walk away and look over at him again from another table, as if he were sitting all alone. And then she’d come back and pour her full attention on John, keeping her back slightly to me. (MmmHmmm. I see you.) Eventually, I said to John, “What’s with that waitress? She sees me sitting here, obviously we’re a couple, you’re clearly my boyfriend … so why is she openly flirting with you??” And John says casually, “Oh, is she? I hadn’t noticed. I’m so used to it … ” “Yeah yeah yeah,” I answered, laughing and throwing a wadded up straw wrapper at him. I continued, “It’s not like I’m ugly or something. It’s not like you’re sitting here with some frumpy dumpy sloppy girl. I’m as good looking as you,” I teased. “Well, almost,” he said. “And what would that have to do with anything?” “Because,” I answered, “If I weren’t attractive or even your ‘equal’, she’d feel like she has leverage over me. Like, you know, why wouldn’t you flirt back if you’re with an ugly girl. But since I’m not, I mean … jeez. She’s not even threatened by me. She’s just acting like I’m not even here. Like she’s intending on taking you off the shelf.”  John leaned back and settled into the corner of the booth. ” … Because … I … am … a …challenge. Yes she sees you. Yes she knows we’re together. That only fuels her desire.” I raised my eyebrows and drummed my fingers on the sides of my glass. “Men don’t do that,” I said. “Not usually,” John replied. “It’s not really within ‘the code’, you know?” “Well, what if we were out and a man kept blatantly flirting with me, as if you were not a barrier to me?” “He’d find out what a barrier I am. I’d kick his ass. It’s disrespectful, first of all.” He said. “But what about her?” I asked. “She’s coming on to you. Isn’t that just as disrespectful?” “Yeah. But she’s a woman, and I hate to say it, but … ” “Women are awful,” I said, finishing the sentence for him. And we are.  People write songs illustrating exactly what we were talking about, like “Jolene” where she’s begging this other woman not to steal her husband, or “She’s single again (hold on to your man)” and even “The Boy is Mine” where 2 singers fight over one man.  Everyone knows it happens and proves the idea of Preselection. Men who are attached are sought after by a certain type of woman.

As the waitress looked over her shoulder again at John, I wondered: at what point does the man in the relationship give out enough signals to let a woman know that he’s taken? There’s no missing a woman in heat, and he knows she’s sniffing the air and circling; why doesn’t he tell her to go away? Why didn’t John just reach over and take my hand to let her know he’s with me? Why do men enjoy this game when the end result, if they bite, is always disaster? They know this. Why didn’t I take John’s hand to let her know he’s mine? Because I refused to play into her game, and, I can hold my own, thankyouverymuch. But it bothered me! It bothered me that she was flirting in front of me. It bothered me that he didn’t make any move to demonstrate allegiance to me. It bothered me that I didn’t grab her face and push her against the wall, like I wanted to, like I should have. (Like I will next time.)

Why do we play these games? Why do we even entertain the idea of infidelity, or not always snuff out at anyone who crosses the line … and instead cry and hurt when they take the bait? Why do we do this to each other and ourselves?

This is the Red Pill. To be continued …