Rant about life
Reading the book was shocking, disgusting, and more than a little hurtful. Having borrowed it from my boyfriend, who owns it due to his interest in social dynamics, I laid awake countless nights worrying that he, like the characters of the book, desired a 6ft blonde with plastic breasts, nil intelligence and the measurements of a severely malnourished 7-year-old. Was the idea of brains above physical beauty merely there to comfort those of us who did not meet Mystery's 9-or-above standard?
Countless times I wanted set the book down, burn it, log onto Mystery's website, criticise their shallow statements on both male and female behaviour, and generally unleash my anger on the world. I cried over this book, my confidence hit rock bottom, I felt like there was nothing for me to offer to the world except a body and possibly my reproductive organs. Every woman in this book is treated as an object, as a goal to win, and sex is viewed as something only a man wants, that a woman has to 'give up'. Let us just say the phrase 'hell hath no fury like a woman scored' came to mind.
I have finished the book, and found myself liking Style. Not for his pick-up skill, but for his love and respect for his current girlfriend. She may be more beautiful than I could ever wish to be, but her brains and attitude make her the perfect woman for him: The love of his life, or so he claims.
I would like to mention here I don't believe in happily-ever-after. I do not believe in 'the one'. I do not believe in the apparently universal female fantasy of settling down and having children and 'trapping a man'. I believe in loving someone, spending time with them, being their friend, telling them everything you need to and having them not say the perfect thing, but having them accept it. Having someone be your support, you being theirs, there being no manipulation or games or any such deceit going on because you both are honest with each other. I want to be successful, I want to own a business, and I want to develop my brain. And I would like a partner who supports me. But it is *not* the end of the fucking world if I don't have someone, if I adopt a child because I want to save a life not bring another white spoilt brat into the world.
I don't need to change, the world does. So much stock is put into appearance, and I fell for it. I want to feel good about myself—I will do exercise, I will continue to dress nicely—but I will not become or envy the shallow bimbos who men salivate for. They may have their one-night-stands and be the competition of men, but they are nothing but prizes. Dumbing themselves down in order to gain 'power' from a man? That isn't clever, that is pathetic. Just like these men who put all their efforts into capturing these women. What do they gain? What do they do for the world? Nothing. I don't care what people say about being popular, having a good social status, or anything of that—the fact of the matter is after your 25th birthday, you shouldn't be focused on one-night-stands and gold-digging: You should take care of yourself. Have a frikkin career, have a family, have something meaningful instead of just plastic surgery that will need touching up in 5 years!
Breast implants cost thousands of pounds, Mystery's workshops cost $2,500. A thousand pounds, just a thousand that you would spend on your appearance or on a workshop of Mystery's, can buy food for a village, go towards developing cures for diseases, be invested in a business, be used to pay rent, be used to pay off your mortgage—something useful! You think everything is about appearance? You think having a gorgeous girl on your arm will make you instantly popular? Maybe, but what the hell does it do? Nothing. You are still worthless to the world.